Anthony Rizzo Is A Fighter

When Anthony Rizzo was diagnosed with cancer as a young prospect, he was scared – but he wasn't alone.

- Robert Sanchez

IT’S LATE SUMMER, nearly 1 a.m. at Coors Field in Denver, and Cubs players are wandering around the visitors clubhouse. Food is being served in the back, and guys are showering and getting ready for the team buses that will soon leave for the hotel.

Rain had delayed the start of the game by two hours. Then it went into extras, where an ill-timed two-base throwing error led to an 11th-inning walk-off for the Rockies.

After taking the loss, closer Aroldis Chapman is stretched out on a couch in the middle of the locker room, bags of ice on his left shoulder and elbow. A couple of players huddle around a table as they eat. A few others talk to reporters.

Anthony Rizzo, the Cubs’ first baseman, exits the shower with one towel wrapped around his waist and another draped across his shoulders. He ambles through the room, sits on the padded folding chair in front of his locker. He drops his head and checks some texts.

Jon Lester emerges from the back a few moments later. He won’t pitch for two more nights, so he’s eager to leave, already dressed in a white polo shirt, blue jeans, cowboy boots and a camouflage backpack. As he makes his way toward the clubhouse door, he pulls himself a little closer to the lockers where Rizzo is sitting. Lester’s chin is slightly tilted toward his chest, his eyes straight ahead, intense, as if he’s looking out the top of his eyelids. He’s walking right toward Rizzo.

Lester is a couple of yards away when the first baseman finally looks up from his phone. Rizzo gives a lopsided grin and silently watches his teammate brush past— a little clubhouse humor. Unless you were looking for it, you’d never notice their camaraderie. You’d never know the story behind it.