By Steve Czaban Special to OnMilwaukee.com Published Oct 10, 2001 at 5:11 AM Photography: OnMilwaukee Staff Writers

Sunday in San Diego, Tony Gwynn's going away present from the Padres was something much more permanent than a framed something-or-other from his playing days in front of the Padre faithful . They named the street address for the Padres new stadium (opening in 2004) "19 Tony Gwynn Drive." Someday, when walking up to the ballpark gates, a little kid will ask his dad, "Who's Tony Gwynn?" That's the mark of a sports icon, not just a Hall of Famer.

In Baltimore, Cal Ripken Jr. is getting a bronze statue outside of Camden Yards, right next to the Babe. While inside the dugout is a plaque of him and his father, two pillars of Orioles history to be seen by many future generations of wide-eyed, just-up-from AAA Baltimore prospects. The emotional and elaborate send-offs for both men were genuine baseball tearjerkers.

Compare that to the otherwise modest "see ya" given to the Padres Ricky Henderson. You could make the argument (without breaking a sweat) that Henderson was by far the better all around player than either Gwynn or Ripken. The career records Henderson holds for walks, runs scored and stolen bases will stand the test of time. Still, all Ricky got was a nice little golden home plate for his den, and a pat on the back with the reminder to "call us when you find work."

Henderson was never loved the way Tony or Cal were loved because his personality wouldn't allow it, and his dedication to being the ultimate baseball mercenary brought him to the following cities, in order: Oakland, New York (Yankees), Oakland again, Toronto (for the pennant drive), Oakland (back again!), San Diego, Anaheim, Oakland (it's like I never left!), New York (Mets, this time), Seattle, and finally (we think) San Diego one last time.

Not that Ricky did the wrong thing, but more that we should savor the last few One Team Hall of Famers (OTHOF's) before their breed is officially extinct. The next guy who will soon hang up his one and only team jersey before stepping straight into his sport's Hall of Fame is Redskins cornerback Darrell Green. His 19 years in the league would be impressive for a mere kicker, but at the corner? You gotta be kidding, right? You can put the 19 years in the NFL at that position right next to DiMaggio's 56 game hitting streak, Ripken's 2,632 or Wilt's 100 point game amongst the unassailable records of all time.

After Green, who's to say if there will ever be another OTHOF in professional sports?

In baseball, who is currently on that trajectory right now? Derek Jeter seems the most likely candidate. Especially since he already plays for the richest team, in the biggest market, which also happens to be his hometown. Nomar Garciaparra seems to be a similar fit in Boston, where he is revered. Then again, so was Roger Clemens once upon a time. An ownership change next year with the Red Sox, and a ball park change sometime soon will occur before Nomar has hung em up, so who's to say? Chipper Jones is a great ball player in Atlanta, the city that doesn't really care. Is he HOF material? Is there a compelling reason for him to stay?

Barry Bonds, Ken Griffey Jr., and Alex Rodriguez put career before community. And good for them, because this is America and they have that right. They'll all go to the hall; they'll have a nice little farewell somewhere. But they won't become icons like Gwynn and Ripken. There will be no stadium names, streets, or statues in their honor. That's reserved for great players who also willingly inject themselves into the fabric of the city they live and play in. You can donate time and money to charity all you want as an athlete, but the true road to becoming a sports icon is to take less money, less fame, and stick with your city because that is where you want to be. When a player shows such commitment to the people who fill the ballpark, it's hard not to be adored or even worshipped.

The NBA has some modern day OTHOF's, and perhaps a few in position to do the same. However, being the least tradition-obsessed of all the major sports, the hero worship of NBA OTHOF's is less than in other sports. The most legendary OTHOF of all time, the "Moby Dick" of that category, Michael Jordan, threw his legacy overboard last month just to help make an awful team decent.

John Stockton and Karl Malone will no doubt ride off into the Utah sunset together. Their careers the perfect example of a symbiotic relationship at its operational finest. Both men have more than enough self esteem and humility to cut short any ideas of "moving on" to find a better situation. Reggie Miller is a probable HOF, but I wouldn't bet the house that he doesn't rent himself out at age 40 to some team that needs a hired sniper. David Robinson has never inspired fans, but his numbers will help kick the Hall door down when the time comes. And even though he has taken a pay cut to stay in San Antonio, there's a pretty decent chance that at some point another team will try to squeeze one last year or two of production from him. Look at Patrick Ewing. The very symbol of New York sports, last seen pathetically chasing a ring in Seattle (where he was lumbering at best) and now Orlando, where staying healthy and not embarrassing himself are his primary goals.

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The new breed of Kobe, Iverson, Carter, Duncan and Garnett are all still on Team #1, but have long roads to travel before they are Hall-ready players. The chance of any of the five ending up where they are now is probably 20 percent or less.

Football has been the best breeding ground for the OTHOF because it for so many years had the strictest (or basically non-existent) form of free agency. So it wasn't uncommon that Walter Payton, Lawrence Taylor, Steve Largent and Kellen Winslow would have just a single choice of team affiliation at Canton. Dan Marino, John Elway, Barry Sanders, and Emmitt Smith (a Cowboy to the bitter end, we think) will be in the same boat, while Troy Aikman and Michael Irvin have the OT part down, while the HOF is probable but not certain.

A couple of current players you might be able to project, like Peyton Manning and Ray Lewis. While other greats missed out on the OTHOF distinction due to early career trades not of their making (Brett Favre, Marshall Faulk), some decided to set out on their own (Joe Montana, Jerry Rice) and did not embarrass themselves in the process. A few others like Reggie White had great careers in two cities (Philadelphia, Green Bay), but then came up empty in their last incarnation (Carolina).

The current sports landscape is simply too fluid these days to think that the OTHOF will again roam free and abundant. The demands from agents, the media agitation, expansion and contraction, salary cap constraints, and of course the money — all conspire against a great player becoming a sporting icon like Ripken, Gwynn or Green. Not that it can't be done, or that it would be foolish to try. Alex Rodriquez could have easily settled in for a "Ripken-like" tenure in Seattle. When it was all said and done, they might have named the space needle after him.

Bonds, meanwhile, could still have the next best thing and become a TTHOF (two team HOF), but his agent/provocateur Scott Boras will insist on "shopping his client" in search of $20 million a year or more. Yeah, you can make the argument that A-Rod's $25 million/per has "set the market," and Bonds deserves to get "market value." You could also make the argument that three of the top four HR hitters this year (Bonds, Sosa, and Rodriquez) failed to swat their teams into the post-season, so how much is a slugger really worth anyway? Chicks may still dig the long ball, but it won't get you laid in October.

Sosa himself went through this charade a few years ago in Chicago, seeking his lucrative contract extension. The thought of him playing anywhere but Wrigley was tantamount to baseball sacrilege, but I suppose he had to hold it out there as leverage. There are just certain players who so perfectly fit the cities that they are in, you wonder why they don't see the same perfection as the fans. Sosa bombards Waveland and Sheffield at the "Friendly Confines" while Bonds depth-charges the Bay in McCovey Cove. Cal was the ultimate blue-collar player in a working man's town. Gwynn, the sweet swinging master in the Southern California sunshine. When you become one of your city's "main attractions" it is lunacy to consider leaving.

There are a few of our sporting icons left on the plains, but the revered OTHOF is quickly going the way of wooly mammoth - once great and inspiring, now just a footnote. Today if you are a great player, you are bound to move cities at least once, unless luck and your own humility find a way to intervene.

How much cash is a city's undivided love worth these days? You would think the answer is "priceless," but I guess we'll soon find out.

Steve Czaban Special to OnMilwaukee.com

Steve is a native Washingtonian and has worked in sports talk radio for the last 11 years. He worked at WTEM in 1993 anchoring Team Tickers before he took a full time job with national radio network One-on-One Sports.

A graduate of UC Santa Barbara, Steve has worked for WFNZ in Charlotte where his afternoon show was named "Best Radio Show." Steve continues to serve as a sports personality for WLZR in Milwaukee and does fill-in hosting for Fox Sports Radio.