He was never their best player. He was never their biggest star.He never won a batting title. He never scored a Gold Glove. He never signed a historic contract.It required a mass organized effort to vote him into his first All-Star Game. When his team recorded the final out of his only championship, he wasn’t even on the field.Despite being in the middle of the greatest nine-year stretch in franchise history, Justin Turner was never the most famous, celebrated or accomplished of Dodgers.But he was the Dodger who signed baseballs for military heroes. He was the Dodger who passed out lunches to children. He was the Dodger who smoothed waters in the clubhouse. He was the Dodger who churned up dirt on the field.He once hit a walk-off playoff home run on the anniversary of Kirk Gibson’s blast. He once saved a title with a diving tag in base line chalk. He would forever saunter to home plate with a pine tar splotch on his back and a playful gleam in his eyes.Then there was that red hair and shaggy beard, what a glorious sight, as colorful and wild and tangled as the city he represented, perhaps the most famous
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