About this episode
On this episode of The Lovable Reunion, David Ross and Anthony Rizzo are joined by their former Chicago Cubs teammate Addison Russell, who tells stories of his grand slam in the 2016 World Series, Starlin Castro’s mentorship, Jason Heyward’s amazing speech during the epic Game 7 rain delay, and more great stories from Chicago’s iconic MLB postseason run. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Listen to the original episode
Episode summary
We’re sitting here with our shortstop, Addison Russell, and I can’t wait to relive those 2015 and 2016 memories with you, man.
I’m good and seeing you guys brings a flood of memories, so I’m fired up to be here.
Take us back to that 2014 trade that flipped our timeline from rebuilding to winning—what did you know in that moment?
I found out on July fourth while rehabbing a hamstring, getting texts from Albert and a call from Joey Gallo, then a coach sat down and basically confirmed it, and I was dizzy processing it all.
I looked up the Cubs roster, worried I’d never played second, then my manager told me I’d be a centerpiece in a big market and to treat it as a huge opportunity, and once the dust settled I was ready.
You came up playing second next to Starlin—what was that relationship like, especially when the position switch came?
At first it was intimidating, but he welcomed me, told me to bet on myself, and when I moved to short he handled it like a pro and helped me on both sides of the bag.
That infield from 2015 to 2016 was tight and set a defensive tone while we were all still young.
Starlin was the face for years and still shifted for the team, and that pass-it-on chain from vets to us really shaped our culture.
Being around guys who’d done more than me changed how I thought and worked, and now I try to pay that forward whenever I can.
What did those teams teach you that you still share?
Show up no matter how you feel, adapt on the fly, and learn to perform even when everything’s uncomfortable, including the cold.
Walk us through that Wild Card in Pittsburgh when the boot and then the double play swung the night.
It was full circle since I debuted there, the place blacked out and roaring, I booted a rocket and then we turned two and it went from deafening to dead quiet in a heartbeat.
Rolling into 2016 with Joe at the helm and big additions, what was your mindset and what did Joe mean to you?
I wanted to break camp and earn my place, and Joe made me feel comfortable and seen, so I was all-in on whatever he was pushing.
Who were your guys in that room?
CJ and I were tight, but I floated, watched everyone, felt at home goofing with the boys, and learned by observing.
We even had that 3–0 count bit where the infield refused to get ready to keep it loose, and it weirdly made us tighter.
I still do it, and I loved how those little edges bonded us through the grind.
You dropped twenty-one and drove in ninety-five, then our whole infield started the All-Star Game—what was that like for you?
First-time All-Star felt surreal, from the private jet with family to trying to meet everyone and soak in every second.
You and I scuffled early in the NLCS, then Joe checked in at BP and you took off, and later you started the clinching double play—how did those moments land for you?
I told Joe I was right there, then took Blanton deep and finally let the emotion out, and on that pennant-clincher my thought was simple, just make the play and the hop was perfect.
Did the pressure and ghosts creep in as the run got heavy?
I blocked out the noise, drove to work, stayed off socials, and focused on doing my job in something I knew would be history.
How did your routine evolve as we kept showing up early?
I learned by watching, adjusted with age, and liked Jesse Chavez’s approach of not over-loosening so the body wakes up in the game.
First World Series game nerves are real.
It was freezing, so I threw a football with Matt Szczur and danced in the dugout to shake it off.
Down three games to one, did you believe and why?
My life’s felt like back-against-the-wall, so I believed we’d win if everyone took their bite and I was ready to take mine.
We blasted Rocky before Game Five to reset, you hit a two-run shot, and that tight win kept us alive.
Game Six, you hit a grand slam and you’d led the league with the bases loaded—what did that trot feel like?
I felt like I was floating and yelling past Lindor and Kipnis, and I even heard a little ding in my head that I kept hearing through the rest of the series.
Then Rajai tied Game Seven and the rain delay hit; what do you remember most from that stretch and J-Hey’s talk?
The homer was a gut punch in a roaring stadium, then Jason pulled us into the weight room and spoke with calm accountability that centered the room.
Miggy’s game-calling with Chap and Chapman’s grit after all those high-leverage outs mattered big time.
What did winning teach you and who was on your mind?
It fulfilled the dream I had as a kid, and it made me proud of the work and sacrifice, especially for my family who gave so much.
You’ve played in Korea and Mexico, and people still ask about 2016.
You also carried through real adversity and kept going with four kids—how did you keep moving?
I leaned on how my parents raised me and, even on rough days, talking about that team lifts me back up.
Give us a favorite story from that run.
After Game Five on Halloween I wore a Raphael costume into Sluggers and took hacks in the upstairs cages for two hours.
That looseness was our secret sauce, and the next night you answered with a grand slam.
Our young guys felt free to be themselves, and that unlocked the best in everyone.
Ten years later at our reunion, we’re still expected winners and family for life, and I’m happy you’re in such a good place.
From that group I carry one thing everywhere—no matter what, we’re good.
We’re good, forever.