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It finally hit me: CC Sabathia, the man who once towered in the Yankees’ dugout like a friendly giant, is now Carsten Charles the Great. On July 27, 2025, at Cooperstown’s Clark Sports Center, Sabathia took his rightful place among immortals as part of the Class of 2025. His 86.8% vote share was nothing short of dominant. First ballot, no question.

As die-hard baseball fans know, Sabathia wasn’t just a workhorse with a heater. Over 19 seasons across Cleveland, Milwaukee and New York, he amassed 251 wins and 3,093 strikeouts, the third most ever by a lefty. He collected a Cy Young with Cleveland in 2007, earned ALCS MVP honors in the Yankees’ 2009 title run, and led MLB in wins in 2009 and 2010.

But his Hall moment wasn’t about stats. It was about soul. The emotional weight of his induction speech belonged not to sabermetrics but to the women who molded him. He paid tribute to his mother Margie for turning him into a baseball fanatic, to his wife Amber for anchoring the family, and honored his late grandmother, late father Corky and the unseen village that shaped his journey, all delivered with the humility and sincerity that defined his clubhouse presence.

Sabathia, 45, confessed he still feels like a rookie in that Hall-of-Famers-only room. “Every corner of the room you look in is one of my favorite players…” he said, describing the surrealness of finding your name among your childhood heroes. And the celebration of his legacy included deep reflections on Black representation in baseball, joining the exclusive “Black Aces” club of Black pitchers with 20-win seasons and standing as only the third in that group with over 3,000 strikeouts.

Fans latched onto the softer, human side of CC during induction weekend too. His car broke down en route to Cooperstown, of all things, but he still made it. Classic underdog resilience. Yankees social media lit up, celebrating not just the legend but the man: his elaborate Halloween traditions with full-size candy bars, his rehab story in 2015 (which he admitted humbled him and changed his life), and his commitment to family and community.

But let’s not forget that for all the warmth and humility, CC Sabathia was a stone-cold enforcer when the moment called for it. He had that “Don’t mess with my guys” mentality that’s gone the way of 200-inning seasons and sunflower seeds in the dugout. The most famous example came in his final start of 2018. Sabathia, just two innings away from a $500K bonus, drilled Tampa Bay’s Jesús Sucre in retaliation for the Rays buzzing Austin Romine earlier. The warning had been issued. Sabathia knew what it would cost. He did it anyway. Then, walking off the mound, he delivered the now-iconic message to the Rays’ dugout: “That’s for you, bitch.” Yankees fans still wear the t-shirt.

That wasn’t just a veteran flex. That was a code. Sabathia wasn’t about numbers or accolades in that moment. He was about protecting the people who suited up next to him. In a league where beanballs are increasingly frowned upon and pitchers rarely stick their necks out, Sabathia was a throwback. One part Nolan Ryan, one part Biggie Smalls. And the locker room loved him for it.

One of his teammates, Aaron Judge, cited Sabathia’s selflessness, like pitching through pain in the 2019 playoffs at great personal cost, as a lodestar for younger players. GM Brian Cashman recalls pulling Sabathia into the Yankees fold in 2009 to heal a divided clubhouse, and they made good on that. CC wasn’t just an ace, he was the glue guy.

It wasn’t all somber reflection. In true Hall fashion, the Class of 2025 brought levity. Ichiro Suzuki delivered a witty, self-deprecating 18-minute speech lamenting his near-unanimous vote denial, contrasting sharply with Sabathia’s reverence but fitting the same emotional arc. Reinvention, gratitude, legacy. And closer Billy Wagner, finally inducted after ten years on the ballot, spoke movingly on perseverance and surviving early adversity to dominate on the hill.

Sabathia’s Hall plaque will feature a Yankees cap. No shock there. He spent 11 seasons in pinstripes, won his only title there, and remains deeply tied to that city and brand, even while never forgetting Cleveland, Milwaukee or his Vallejo roots.

Critics who once questioned if he was “first-ballot worthy” have been silenced. His career peak from around 2005 to 2012 made him the league leader in wins, innings, starts and strikeouts of any pitcher in that era. Especially remarkable in an era when starters were fading into bullpen reliance.

In the end, CC Sabathia’s induction wasn’t just about cementing stats. It was about the journey. From Vallejo kid playing backyard catch with his mom, to first-round pick, to MVP award winner, to the emotional comeback story, to a pillar of leadership in New York’s gilded org. His plaque in Cooperstown is the cherry on a career built on grit, community, resilience and heart.

Someday, his kids might tell mates, “My dad’s in the Hall.” But as CC pointed out in his speech, the greatest accomplishment is seeing his children grow. A legacy that stretches beyond the numbers, and far beyond the batter’s box.