The drive from northern New Jersey to Cooperstown, N.Y., offers myriad options. The quickest route is usually the New York Thruway north to I-88 west, but interstate highways tend to be boring. Weaving one’s way up through Sullivan County and the Catskill Mountains is a much more scenic drive, and only marginally longer. Rambling past the bucolic pastures and trout-stocked rivers of Delaware County, those extra minutes fly by quickly. It’s a peaceful part of the world, as the nearly half million hippies who descended on Max Yasgur’s farm in 1969 could attest.
On a late-July Thursday this past summer, CC Sabathia and his family piled their belongings into two cars and prepared to make the roughly 3 1/2-hour journey from their home in Alpine, N.J., to the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame & Museum in Cooperstown. It was to be a weekend-long celebration, culminating in Sabathia’s official induction into the Hall of Fame on July 27. There would be parties, a parade, press conferences, golf … and, of course, The Speech.
After a baseball player receives the phone call of a lifetime, letting him know that he has been elected, it’s never long before he starts thinking about what he’ll say at the podium some six months later. It’s often the second piece of small talk people volley during that interlude between election and induction. Congratulations! Hey, how’s the speech coming along?
Some Hall of Famers have been preparing those words their entire life. “For 54 years, I’ve been kind of working on it,” fellow Class of 2025 inductee Billy Wagner said the day before delivering his speech. Others would rather be in a tie game in the bottom of the ninth with the bases loaded than speak in front of 30,000 people.
Sabathia claims to be among the latter group. Although he thrives in nearly any situation in which a microphone is involved, delivering a once-in-a-lifetime speech during the crowning moment of his professional existence was understandably more anxiety-inducing than taping a live hit on MLB Network. Like every great pitcher, though, Sabathia understands the importance of preparation. He put a tremendous amount of thought and effort into his speech, working closely with his most trusted confidant -- his wife, Amber -- as he crafted something that would be special and would succeed in getting across a message that often gets ignored in a male-dominated sport. He felt good about how it would be delivered and, hopefully, how it would be received in Cooperstown.
But first, he had to get there.
***
Like the drive from Alpine to Cooperstown, Sabathia could have gone in a lot of different directions with The Speech. As the two-car caravan pulled onto the Palisades Parkway and headed north, and his thoughts turned to what lay ahead, he surely reflected on how far he had come.
Born July 21, 1980, Sabathia grew up dreaming not of becoming a Hall of Famer, but of being the best athlete in Vallejo, Calif. He looked up to guys such as Damon Hollins and Joe Thurston, who rose from their hardscrabble hometown to become Major Leaguers. There were men in Sabathia’s life, beginning with his dad, Corky, who instilled in him a love of the game. His high school baseball coach, Abe Hobbs, did more than develop Sabathia into a first-round pick of the Cleveland Indians (20th overall) in 1998. Hobbs also made sure to teach the promising youngster about Jackie Robinson and the Negro Leaguers who paved the way for Black ballplayers.
But Sabathia didn’t want his speech to simply retell his entire life story, which he had already done in his superb 2021 memoir, Till the End, and the 2020 documentary, Under the Grapefruit Tree. True to his nature, he wanted it to be less about himself and more about the people who got him to that podium.
The last time a legend was inducted into the Hall of Fame with a Yankees cap on his plaque was in 2021, when Derek Jeter was enshrined. Sabathia attended that ceremony along with his oldest son, Carsten, and saw firsthand how many Yankees fans had trekked -- perhaps just as he was now, out of New Jersey and past Harriman State Park -- toward baseball’s holy site, eager to cheer for their captain again. Knowing how tough they could be on those who don’t meet the moment, Sabathia was determined to give those fans a speech they would remember.
While with Cleveland from 2001 to 2008, Sabathia found it “super intimidating” to pitch in the old Yankee Stadium, and although his father, who passed away in 2003, predicted that he would be a Yankee someday, Sabathia was hesitant, to say the least, about putting on the pinstripes. “When you’re outside looking in, you hate the Yankees, right?” he said during an exclusive interview with Yankees Magazine that took place outside The Otesaga hotel along the shoreline of Otsego Lake two days before the induction ceremony. “It’s the Evil Empire.”
When he hit free agency after closing out 2008 with a heroic effort for the Milwaukee Brewers following a midseason trade, he thought he would end up with the Dodgers or Angels. But soon after signing with New York, he realized that there was nothing like “the pressure and the prestige and -- if you can do it well -- the honor” that comes with playing for the Yankees. “Having a chance to be on both sides of it, I love being a Yankee more than anything.” Fans quickly fell in love with the big southpaw, who stabilized the clubhouse and was the ace of a World Series championship team in 2009.
The fame and fortune that came with being in New York was nice, but the Sabathias’ decision to plant roots in the Northeast wasn’t solely a baseball one. They had three kids, soon to be four, and while many baseball families make their offseason home far away from the Major League city where dad works, CC and Amber wanted to settle in one place where Carsten, Jaden, Cyia and, eventually, Carter could thrive and grow and chase their own dreams.
That home in Alpine, about 12 miles northwest of the Bronx, is where the Sabathias had departed from on July 24 when, less than an hour into their sojourn, they needed to make a pit stop. Getting to Cooperstown is never quick, and on an empty stomach, it can seemingly take forever. So, they pulled off the highway to grab something to eat.
After the quick respite from the road, his 6-foot-6 frame and his electric vehicle now both charged, Sabathia was ready to resume the trip. Normally, he would take the lead, dashing ahead of Amber, but on this day, perhaps feeling a bit contemplative on his way to baseball’s promised land, CC hung back behind his wife to maintain the two-car caravan. It was a good thing he did. Her brand-new Cadillac Escalade just … stopped. She was able to pull over safely to the side of the road, and while she got on the phone to begin figuring out how to remedy the situation, CC and the kids couldn’t help but smile. Here was baseball’s newest member of the Hall of Fame, just the third left-hander in history to top 3,000 strikeouts, stranded on his way to the induction ceremony. If that wasn’t symbolic …
***
Overcoming obstacles was nothing new for the 45-year-old. Ask him for his favorite performance as a Yankee, the one that best encapsulates his time in New York, and he’ll tell you that it wasn’t Game 1 of the 2009 American League Championship Series, when he mowed down a potent Angels lineup with such ease that TV cameras caught him yawning in the dugout as he prepared to go back out for the eighth inning. Nor was it Game 3 of the 2017 ALCS against the Astros, when his six scoreless frames helped the Yankees get back in the series after losing the first two games in Houston.
It was Game 5 of the 2012 ALDS against Baltimore. And although he never would have admitted it then, Sabathia was hurting. Since Memorial Day of that season, bone chips in his elbow had caused extreme swelling and pain, to the point that teammate Brett Gardner would have to physically help straighten it for him. “Me and Gardy would be in the clubhouse, he’d be cranking on that thing.” In Game 1 of that series, Sabathia threw 120 pitches, going 8 2/3 innings in a 7-2 win. Three intense one-run games followed, two of them going to extra innings, setting up a Game 5 showdown at Yankee Stadium with a trip to the ALCS on the line. Once again, Sabathia blocked out the pain, tossing 121 pitches in a 3-1 complete-game victory.
“He was the best. The best,” said Hall of Fame closer Mariano Rivera. “As a teammate, he always had your back, and you appreciate people with that type of passion for the game. He’s a warrior. He’s a guy that never backed down from nothing. So, I’m glad that he was on my team.”
Any on-field obstacles paled in comparison to the demons Sabathia faced in his private struggle with alcohol. He would dry out in the two days leading up to a start, but as soon as he was lifted from the game, another three-day bender would begin. This went on for years, until he finally admitted that he needed help. Oct. 5, 2025, will mark 10 years of sobriety.
“There’s no way the second part of my career or my life is the way it is if I’m still drinking,” he said. “Absolutely not.”
Car troubles? That’s nothing. As passersby honked upon realizing who it was stuck on the side of Route 17, a bemused Sabathia posted a selfie on social media of him and his family, all of them smiling (except for Amber, who was busy handling logistics). Car broke down on the way to Cooperstown, he wrote, followed by three laughing/crying emojis. Anyone headed that way?
When the six of them travel together, Sabathia said, something always seems to go wrong. They’ve learned what it takes to figure things out and adjust on the fly. That’s why their group chat is called “Strong as a Unit,” because “when we’re all together, no matter what happens, we know we can get through it.” He popped his trunk, transferred the belongings from Amber’s car into his, and the family headed home to retrieve another vehicle.
Doubling back to Alpine certainly wasn’t how the trip was supposed to go, but a few hours later, the Sabathia family arrived in Cooperstown, right where the big lefty belonged.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
First there was the Garden Party, hosted by Jane Forbes Clark, the Hall of Fame’s chairman of the board. Looking around the room, Sabathia was in awe of the other faces. Some of them drew him back to the posters hanging on his bedroom wall as a kid. “I’m thinking, Should I be sitting here?” he said. “You get that kind of impostor syndrome for a second.”
That feeling faded fast. Whether walking the grounds of the Otesaga or teeing it up with his sons at Leatherstocking Golf Course, Sabathia ran into baseball legends throughout the weekend who couldn’t wait to welcome him into their fraternity. Seeing Yankees teammates such as Jeter and Rivera helped him feel at ease, as did seeing other Hall of Famers that he had befriended over the years, such as Dave Winfield, Ferguson Jenkins, Ken Griffey Jr. and others. But there were still plenty of “pinch me” moments for Sabathia. When he found himself in a conversation with lefty legends Randy Johnson and Sandy Koufax, he took a picture to be sure it wasn’t some southpaw fever dream.
“I’m excited and humbled and just overjoyed with the love that everybody’s been showing,” Sabathia told the family, friends and teammates gathered at Brewery Ommegang for a party in his honor the night before the ceremony. “I appreciate everybody coming out, and I love you all.”
Still, looming in the back of his mind was The Speech. The clock was ticking down, and whether he was as prepared as he thought or not, it was going to happen on Sunday afternoon.
***
“Due to inclement weather expected between noon and 2 p.m.,” read the Sunday morning message from the Hall of Fame, “the start of the 2025 Induction Ceremony has been moved to 2:30 p.m. ET.”
Another curveball. No worries. It just gave fans an extra hour to find a good seat. The cloud mass that dumped rain on Otsego County earlier in the day now provided intermittent shade from a scorching sun as more than 50 Hall of Famers filled the stage outside the Clark Sports Center. Wagner, the first left-handed reliever and the first Division III player to be elected, went first. Dick Allen and Dave Parker were inducted posthumously, with Allen’s widow, Willa, and Parker’s son, David Parker II, delivering memorable speeches in their honor.
Then it was Sabathia’s turn. A tribute video was shown, in which Jeter offered his thoughts on the six-time All-Star and 2007 AL Cy Young Award winner. “He was expected to go out there and dominate -- and he lived up to it. He lived up to the hype. And there aren’t too many pitchers — there aren’t too many players -- that do that when they come to New York.”
Sabathia, wearing a sharp gray suit with a crisp white shirt and navy blue tie, was summoned to the rostrum. As Commissioner Rob Manfred read the inscription on the plaque that will hang forever inside the Hall of Fame’s hallowed gallery -- Carsten Charles Sabathia. “CC.” … Unrelenting ace was the rock of three franchises’ staffs … -- Sabathia glanced out at the gathered masses. The moment had arrived. The heart rate and nerves spiked. But seated together right in front of the stage were the people whose strength and support were the very reason for him being there.
After a quick thank you to Clark, the baseball writers, the fans and the Hall of Famers sitting behind him -- “Even Ichiro, who stole my Rookie of the Year Award in 2001” -- Sabathia said, “The list of people who deserve my thanks is very long, and you’ll hear from me personally. Today, I thought I would tell a few stories.”
He could have regaled fans with tales of his October heroics, pitching Cleveland and Milwaukee into the postseason and winning a World Series in New York -- and he did, to an extent. But he did it in a way that felt unlike any speech that had ever been delivered in Cooperstown. Acknowledging that “plenty of men taught me about baseball and life” and that “no one has more fun hanging out with the fellas than me,” Sabathia veered in a different direction.
“I have been blessed to have so many wise and caring women in my life,” he said before naming 10 women -- family members and others -- who played a pivotal role in molding him, setting the tone for a 9-minute, 21-second outpouring of love and gratitude for the female influence on a formidable career.
“You’d be lucky to have even one of those women in your life,” he continued, “and I’ve had them all -- a village of women who raised me, guided me, made me laugh, fed me, protected me and, a few times, literally saved me.”
Sabathia took the audience on a journey that began in the backyard of his grandmother, Ethel Rufus, where he honed his cannon of a left arm by tossing grapefruits that fell from her tree at a folding chair. That was his “home base and safe place” in a city where those things aren’t a given.
He then paid homage to his mom, Margie, who was seated next to Amber in the front row -- “here today, just like she’s always been there for me. That hasn’t always been easy.” A former softball player, Margie loved baseball, but she kept her only child humble. When the consensus was that CC, a three-sport star at Vallejo High School, should quit football and basketball to avoid the risk of getting injured his senior year heading into the MLB Draft, she encouraged him to go out and enjoy playing one last season with his longtime friends. When college coaches and Major League clubs started coming around daily, it was Margie who acted as CC’s agent, eventually negotiating a contract with the Cleveland front office herself.
“My mom, she’s the G.O.A.T. She’s incredibly savvy,” Sabathia said inside the Clark Sports Center after the final speech of the day, Ichiro Suzuki’s, was finished. “I always tell the story about my father, and I owe him everything; he is one of the reasons why I’m here. But my mom is my anchor. She’s my rock, and I felt like I had to tell that story today.”
Margie showed CC what perseverance and hard work meant, and it was her guidance that allowed the pitcher to understand that no bump in the road (or stalled car on the side of it) was too much to overcome. He recalled how his mom and dad had split up around 1992, and how Margie worked night shifts to make ends meet. It was a difficult life, filled with plenty of hard times, but she found a way to make it through.
“As much as we struggled through painful losses that took family and friends away from us too soon, my mom kept going,” Sabathia told the crowd. “From her, I learned that if we are here, if we are breathing, if we are standing, we can get through it. There’s always something on the other side of the storm.”
At that point in The Speech, many of those in attendance needed a moment to collect themselves. Nineteen-year-old Ryan Garner -- a left-handed pitcher himself at Husson University in Bangor, Maine -- vowed that if his favorite player ever made it into the Hall of Fame, he would make the four-hour trek from his home in Leominster, Mass., for the induction. Wearing a pinstriped No. 52 jersey, he was glad he had, wiping away tears as Sabathia’s words made him think about his own mom and all that she had done for him. “She’s an amazing person, and I’m thankful for her every single day,” Garner said afterward, his voice still crackling with emotion. Added his father, Chad: “I think it resonated with everybody and was clearly the No. 1 speech of the day because we all love our moms, right? Putting that in the limelight today on the biggest stage in baseball, it speaks volumes about CC the person, not even the player.”
Sabathia might have broken down himself when discussing his mom, but he soldiered on. He talked about going to Oakland Coliseum with Margie to watch Griffey, her favorite. He reminisced about his beloved 1989 A’s and their designated hitter, Parker, who died just a month before he was set to be inducted alongside Sabathia. He talked about being a Black baseball player and how he is trying to nurture the next generation of Black stars.
“Maybe part of the answer is more agents like my wife, Amber,” he said. Thus began the second half of Sabathia’s most epic delivery -- a heartfelt tribute to his life partner. He told stories of her nursing him through the emotional agony of being a homesick teen playing in Rookie ball in ’98, and of receiving the call on her phone that he had been elected to the Hall of Fame. Through it all, Amber was always at his side.
“The first time we met was at a house party when I was a junior in high school,” he said. “We spent the whole night talking, and that conversation has been going on for 29 years now.”
The rest of The Speech was ostensibly about a life in baseball, but more so about a life lived, together. Few know the feeling of pitching in the World Series, but plenty of families know the stress of having to relocate for work while expecting another child, as the Sabathias did when CC was traded to Milwaukee in 2008. The uneasiness of seeing a partner enter into rehab; the joys of watching your kids grow up and become their own people -- these are not emotions unique to professional ballplayers. But every couple’s journey is their own, and Sabathia eloquently expressed just how grateful he is to have Amber with him on his.
“I know I’m super difficult to be around sometimes, and I’ve tested her patience and love too many times,” he said. “But she knows how to navigate me like no one else does, and I always say she’s the only human I can be around every single day.”
Before thanking the Baseball Hall of Fame “for making the Sabathias a part of your family,” and encouraging the crowd to “tell your grannies, your moms, your aunts, your sisters, your wives, your girlfriends and your daughters how much you love and appreciate them,” the great left-hander told one last story.
It was about a drive up to Cooperstown in January, the day after the Hall of Fame had called. It was just him and Amber, and, fortunately, there were no car troubles that time. Just CC behind the wheel and Amber in the front passenger seat, like always. It was on that drive that Sabathia realized something, and the foundation for The Speech began to take shape.
“It’s been a long road from Vallejo, Calif.,” he said. “And I wouldn’t have made it all this way without the women redirecting me when I got lost.”
Nathan Maciborski is the executive editor of Yankees Magazine. This story appears in the September 2025 edition. Get more articles like this delivered to your doorstep by purchasing a subscription to Yankees Magazine at www.yankees.com/publications.