Rick Monday and the Flag: The 11-Second Moment That Turned a Cubs Outfielder Into an American Legend
I'll be completely honest with you — I am not usually the type of person who gets emotional about sports. But then I looked up the footage of what Rick Monday did on a quiet Sunday afternoon in Los Angeles on April 25, 1976, and I sat there genuinely moved. Not because it was dramatic. Not because the cameras caught it perfectly. But because it was so instinctive. He didn't think. He just ran.
And now, exactly 50 years later — on April 25, 2026 — Monday stood on the same Dodger Stadium field with his wife Barbaralee, held up that same flag he rescued half a century ago, and received yet another standing ovation. Different crowd. Same chills. Some moments, it turns out, don't age.
In this article, I want to walk you through everything — who Rick Monday was, what actually happened that day during the Cubs-Dodgers game, what the flag meant and why people still care, and what's happening in 2026 to honour this extraordinary slice of baseball and American history. Whether you're a baseball fan, a history buff, or just someone who stumbled across "Rick Monday flag" on a search engine — you're in the right place. Let's get into it.
Who Is Rick Monday? A Quick Background Before the Big Moment
Before we get to the flag, let me set the scene by telling you who Rick Monday actually was — because understanding him makes the moment make so much more sense.
Born to Play Baseball
Robert James "Rick" Monday Jr. was born on November 20, 1945, in Batesville, Arkansas. He grew up in Southern California and became a standout at Santa Monica High School, where — fun fact — a young scout named Tommy Lasorda (yes, that Tommy Lasorda) offered him a contract with the Dodgers. Monday turned it down to go to college instead.
He went to Arizona State University and shared a lineup with Reggie Jackson — yes, that Reggie Jackson too. Together they led Arizona State to the 1965 College World Series title. Monday hit .359 as a sophomore. He was, simply put, a serious ballplayer.
The First Ever MLB Draft Pick
Here's a piece of trivia that most people don't know: Rick Monday was the very first player ever selected in the inaugural 1965 Major League Baseball draft. Not first pick in his state. Not first in his position. The absolute first player ever drafted in MLB history. That's a footnote in the history books that would define most careers. For Monday, it was just the beginning.
His Career at a Glance
Monday played 19 seasons as a center fielder, spending time with the Kansas City/Oakland Athletics (1966–1971), the Chicago Cubs (1972–1976), and finally the Los Angeles Dodgers (1977–1984), with whom he won a World Series ring in 1981. He was a two-time All-Star with a career total of 241 home runs and 775 RBI.
But there is one thing that defined him more than any of those statistics. And it happened in the middle of an otherwise ordinary fourth inning on a Sunday afternoon.
A Marine at Heart
This part matters. Rick Monday served in the United States Marine Corps Reserves for six years during his playing career. He visited veterans' hospitals. He had friends who had served in Vietnam. He knew what the American flag meant — not as a symbol on paper, but as something people had bled and died for. That context is everything when you understand what he did next.
The Game: Cubs vs Dodgers, April 25, 1976
It was a Sunday. America was in the middle of its Bicentennial year — celebrating 200 years of independence. The mood in the country was patriotic, but also complicated. Vietnam had just ended. Political tensions were high. The nation was processing a lot.
Setting the Scene at Dodger Stadium
The Los Angeles Dodgers were hosting the Chicago Cubs in the rubber match of a three-game weekend series. The Cubs were 6–7 on the season. The Dodgers were 4–9. Not exactly a high-stakes showdown on paper. The crowd that Sunday was 25,167 fans — a decent turnout, but nothing special.
Rick Monday was playing center field for the Cubs. His left fielder that day was José Cardenal. They had been tossing a practice ball between pitches — doing what outfielders do between batters to stay loose and focused. Normal game. Normal day.
Ted Sizemore was at the plate in the bottom of the fourth inning. Cubs pitcher Ken Crosby threw a pitch. Sizemore popped out. Standard play.
And then something broke the rhythm.
The Sound That Didn't Fit
Monday later described it in a way that I find genuinely fascinating. He said there is always a "rhythm to the game" when you're standing in the outfield. The crack of the bat, the crowd noise, the shuffle of feet — it all has a predictable beat. And then he heard a sound that didn't match.
He turned toward left-center field and saw two figures — a man and, it would later turn out, his 11-year-old son — running onto the field from beyond the left-field pavilion fence. They spread an American flag flat on the outfield grass like a picnic blanket. Then the man pulled out a large, shiny can. Lighter fluid. He began dousing the flag.
Eleven Seconds of Pure Instinct
What happened next took approximately 11 seconds. Monday said that in the moment, he may have been thinking about "bowling them over." But then a clearer thought took over: if they don't have the flag, they cannot burn it.
He sprinted toward the two figures at full speed. As he closed in, the man fumbled with a lighter. Monday swooped down, snatched the flag from the grass with his right hand, and kept running — flag in hand — toward the Dodgers dugout on the first-base side. The man reportedly threw lighter fluid in Monday's direction as he escaped.
Monday ran through the outfield and eventually handed the flag to Dodgers pitcher Doug Rau near the dugout.
The crowd erupted.
The Stadium's Response
What followed is one of the most touching parts of this whole story. When Monday came up to bat in the top of the fifth inning — just one inning later — all 25,167 fans gave him a standing ovation. The scoreboard at Dodger Stadium flashed this message:
"Rick Monday... You Made A Great Play."
And in perhaps the most unexpected twist of all — because this was a Cubs vs Dodgers game, meaning Monday was the opposing team's player — the Dodger fans cheered for a Cub. Loudly. Wildly. Because some moments transcend team loyalty entirely.
Who Were the Two Protesters?
The two individuals who ran onto the field that day have a more complicated story than most people realise — and I think it's worth understanding fully, even if it's uncomfortable.
William Thomas and His Son
The older man was identified as William Thomas, 37 years old, from Eldon, Missouri. The younger figure was his 11-year-old son, who was not formally identified because he was a juvenile. Thomas was arrested. His son was reportedly taken into separate custody.
In the days after the incident, a local Los Angeles Times report indicated that Thomas claimed he was protesting to draw attention to what he called his wife's wrongful imprisonment in a Missouri mental institution. Other reports suggested Indigenous rights or opposition to the Vietnam War as possible motivations. The truth is that the historical record on their exact intentions remains murky and inconsistent — different reports said different things, and neither Thomas nor his son gave a clear public statement at the time.
What is certain is this: they were protesting something, they chose a very public and very inflammatory way to do it, and a Chicago Cubs outfielder made sure they didn't get the outcome they were looking for.
The Complicated Context
I want to be honest here, because it would be too easy to just paint this as "bad guys vs good guy." America in 1976 was grappling with genuine pain — the aftermath of Vietnam, civil rights struggles, Indigenous rights movements. Protest was real and often legitimate. But the method Thomas chose — attempting to burn a flag at a public sporting event — struck nearly everyone, regardless of political persuasion, as deeply wrong. And Monday, who had watched veterans suffer, felt it viscerally.
After the Game — What Happened Next?
President Gerald Ford Called
That same day, after the game ended — a 5–4 Dodgers victory in 10 innings, despite Monday going 3-for-5 with two runs scored — Monday received a phone call from United States President Gerald Ford. Ford called personally to thank him. That's the kind of moment that tells you everything about how the nation felt in those hours.
Monday Kept the Flag
Dodgers vice president of player personnel Al Campanis presented Monday with the actual flag after the incident. Monday has kept and carefully preserved it ever since — for 50 years. He has said repeatedly that he was "just a spokesman that afternoon for millions of people in this country." He doesn't call himself a hero. That kind of humility, honestly, is what makes the whole thing more powerful.
Traded to the Dodgers the Following Year
In a poetic twist of fate, Rick Monday was traded from the Chicago Cubs to the Los Angeles Dodgers in January 1977 — just months after saving the flag at their stadium. He went on to win a World Series with the Dodgers in 1981 and scored the famous two-out, ninth-inning home run in Game 5 of the 1981 NLCS that heartbroken Expos fans have forever called "Blue Monday." After retirement, he became a Dodgers broadcaster — a role he has held, on and off, since 1985.
Why the Rick Monday Flag Incident Still Matters in 2026
Here's where I get personal for a moment. When I research stories like this, I always ask myself: why does this still matter 50 years later? And for the Rick Monday flag incident, the answer is layered.
It Was Completely Unscripted
In a world drowning in performative patriotism — flags on merchandise, national anthem controversies, carefully staged political photo opportunities — Monday's move was the opposite of all that. He didn't think about cameras. He didn't weigh the PR consequences. He just ran. That kind of authentic, unrehearsed moment cuts through all the noise, which is exactly why it's remembered when so much else from that era is forgotten.
It Connected Two Rival Fan Bases
The Cubs and the Dodgers are not natural allies. Their fans do not normally root for each other. But in that moment, 25,000 Dodger fans cheered for a Cub. That's genuinely rare. And it's a reminder that shared values can, at least momentarily, override the tribalism that otherwise defines how we watch sports.
The Flag Is a Living Object
Monday himself put it beautifully in 2026: "What's very nice is that flag they were trying to desecrate still has a life." It was rescued. It was preserved. It has been carried, displayed, and honoured. It outlasted the moment. That gives people something tangible to connect to — not just a story, but an actual object with history baked into its fabric.
The 50th Anniversary in 2026 — What Happened Yesterday at Dodger Stadium
I want to make sure this part of the article is completely current, because — and this is extraordinary timing — the 50th anniversary celebration happened just yesterday, on April 25, 2026.
A Pregame Ceremony With Both Teams Present
The Los Angeles Dodgers hosted the Chicago Cubs — the same two teams from that April day in 1976 — and held a pregame ceremony to mark the 50th anniversary. The Cubs and Dodgers players lined up along each baseline for the national anthem, which was sung by Davis Gaines, famous for his role in "Phantom of the Opera."
Monday and Barbaralee on the Field
Rick Monday, now 80 years old, walked onto the field with his wife Barbaralee. Together, they held up the same flag — the one he snatched from the grass 50 years ago, the one he has kept and cared for all this time — to a standing ovation from the crowd. I genuinely got a little choked up reading that. Fifty years later. Same field. Same flag. Same man.
A Bronze Sculpture from the Marines
Members of the Marine Corps presented Monday with a bronze sculpture depicting him running with the flag — that now-iconic image frozen in metal. For a man who served in the Marine Reserves for six years, that gesture must have meant everything.
The Flag Goes to Cooperstown
In what I think is the most fitting development of this whole story, Monday announced that he is loaning the rescued flag to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown, New York. It will be on exhibit from Memorial Day Weekend through Labor Day Weekend 2026 — the first time the flag has ever been publicly displayed in one location for an extended period. The Hall of Fame is also celebrating America's 250th birthday this summer, making the timing absolutely perfect.
Hall of Fame President Josh Rawitch called the flag "a national treasure." That is not hyperbole.
July 25 Honours in Cooperstown
Monday will also be formally honoured at the July 25 Awards Presentation in Cooperstown during Hall of Fame Weekend (July 24–27, 2026), where the Class of 2026 — Carlos Beltrán, Andruw Jones, and Jeff Kent — will be inducted. He will also appear at the Hall of Fame Military Classic on May 23, 2026, a seven-inning legends game highlighting America's 250th anniversary celebrations. His contributions will be recognised alongside Ford C. Frick Award winner Joe Buck and Buck O'Neil Lifetime Achievement Award winner Bill White.
What Rick Monday's Story Teaches Us — Beyond Baseball
I've been writing about sports, history, and human stories for a while now, and I want to share what I personally take from this whole thing.
Monday wasn't a soldier in that moment. He wasn't a politician or a policeman. He was a baseball player, in the middle of a game, doing his job. And when something happened that he felt was wrong — something that went against everything he believed in — he acted. Immediately. Without asking whether it would benefit him.
He said it himself: "I'm not a hero. I'm just a guy who acted upon what I thought was right. I'm happy I was close enough to do something about it."
That line hits differently when you sit with it. How many times in life do we see something wrong and tell ourselves it's not our business, or we're not in a position to act? Monday was close enough. And he acted. That's really the whole lesson.
In an era where we often debate what patriotism looks like, Monday's moment is a kind of north star — uncomplicated, unspun, and real. He didn't burn anything down. He didn't post about it. He ran across a patch of outfield grass and scooped up a flag. And fifty years later, we're still writing about it.
Conclusion — Some Plays Don't Make the Box Score, But They Make History
Rick Monday finished that April 25, 1976 game with three hits, two runs, and an RBI. The Cubs still lost, 5–4, in ten innings. None of those numbers are what anyone remembers.
What they remember is an 11-second sprint across Dodger Stadium's left-center field. A flag scooped from the grass. A crowd of 25,167 people — rooting against the man holding it — rising to their feet anyway. A scoreboard message that became a headline. A phone call from the President. A career's worth of fame built not on a World Series ring or an All-Star selection, but on a single unrehearsed act of conviction.
Fifty years later, in 2026, that flag still has a life. It will spend the summer in Cooperstown, under glass, for thousands of visitors to see. And Rick Monday — now 80, still broadcasting for the Dodgers, still as humble as ever — will stand in front of that Hall of Fame crowd in July and be celebrated not for his statistics, but for who he was when it mattered.
If you ask me, that's the best kind of legacy there is.
I hope you found this article useful and genuinely interesting. If you did, share it with someone who loves baseball, American history, or just a really good human story. They'll thank you for it.
— Krishna Gupta
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Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
What exactly happened during the Rick Monday flag incident?
On April 25, 1976, during a Chicago Cubs vs Los Angeles Dodgers game at Dodger Stadium, two individuals — a man named William Thomas, 37, and his 11-year-old son — ran onto the field in the bottom of the fourth inning. They spread an American flag on the left-center field grass and began dousing it with lighter fluid, apparently intending to set it on fire as a protest. Rick Monday, the Cubs center fielder and a six-year Marine Corps reserves veteran, sprinted toward them and snatched the flag from the ground before they could ignite it. He handed the flag to Dodgers pitcher Doug Rau and received a thunderous standing ovation from the 25,167 fans in attendance — even though he was the opposing team's player.
What team was Rick Monday playing for when he saved the flag?
Rick Monday was playing center field for the Chicago Cubs when he saved the American flag on April 25, 1976. The game was played at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, where the Dodgers were the home team. Ironically, Monday was traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers just months later, in January 1977, and went on to win a World Series with the Dodgers in 1981. He later became a longtime Dodgers broadcaster and has worked with the organisation on and off since 1985.
What happened to the flag Rick Monday saved? Where is it now in 2026?
Rick Monday has carefully preserved the rescued American flag for 50 years. He was officially presented with the flag by the Dodgers' Al Campanis shortly after the 1976 incident. On April 25, 2026 — the 50th anniversary of the rescue — Monday and his wife Barbaralee held the flag up on the Dodger Stadium field during a pregame ceremony. Monday then announced he is loaning the flag to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown, New York, where it will be on public exhibit from Memorial Day Weekend through Labor Day Weekend 2026 — the first time the flag has been displayed at one public location for such an extended period.
What is happening to honour Rick Monday at the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2026?
In 2026, Rick Monday is receiving significant recognition at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. First, the flag he rescued will be on public exhibit from Memorial Day Weekend to Labor Day Weekend as part of the museum's celebration of America's 250th birthday. Second, Monday will appear at the Hall of Fame Military Classic on May 23, 2026 — a seven-inning legends game. Third, and most notably, Monday will be formally honoured at the July 25, 2026 Awards Presentation in Cooperstown, which takes place during Hall of Fame Weekend (July 24–27), when the Class of 2026 — Carlos Beltrán, Andruw Jones, and Jeff Kent — will be inducted.
Why is Rick Monday's flag rescue considered so significant in American history?
Rick Monday's flag rescue is considered historically significant for several reasons. It happened during America's 1976 Bicentennial year, a time of deep national reflection. Monday acted entirely on instinct — as a Marine Corps reserves veteran who deeply understood what the flag represented to those who served. The moment was bipartisan in its emotional impact, with even opposing Dodger fans giving a standing ovation to a Cubs player. President Gerald Ford personally called Monday after the game to thank him. Monday has preserved the physical flag for 50 years, turning it into a tangible artifact of American history. And perhaps most powerfully, it was a moment of unrehearsed, unsponsored, genuine conviction — something increasingly rare and therefore increasingly meaningful across generations.
