The cheers had faded. The roar of Wrigley Field, the smell of freshly cut grass, the sound of a fastball popping into a mitt — all now lived in Justin Steele’s memory.
Just three months ago, Steele stood on the mound, throwing warm-up pitches under the spring sun, unaware that his next fastball would be his last — at least for a very long time.
After undergoing season-ending elbow surgery in April, doctors initially believed he would return to the Cubs’ rotation in 2026. But what began as a standard rehab took a terrifying turn. Persistent fatigue, unexplained bruises, and strange blood markers led to a devastating diagnosis: a rare autoimmune disorder attacking his connective tissues, weakening his joints and heart lining.
Suddenly, baseball wasn’t the battle anymore. Life was.
“I’ve faced pressure with bases loaded in the 9th,” Steele said from his hospital room at Northwestern Memorial. “But nothing prepares you for the moment a doctor says you might not pitch again. Or that your body’s attacking itself.”
The news shook the Cubs organization. Teammates like Kyle Hendricks and Nico Hoerner visited him regularly, while manager Craig Counsell called him “the emotional spine of the locker room.” Cubs fans across the country rallied with #SteeleStrong signs, T-shirts, and letters that covered the walls of his hospital room.
As treatment progressed, Steele’s frame thinned, but his resolve hardened. He began documenting his journey in a journal — not of pitches and wins, but of pain, hope, and gratitude.
“I miss the game, of course. But more than that, I miss the smell of the ball, the laughter in the dugout, hearing little kids yell my name. I just want to walk out onto that mound… even once more.”
Doctors are optimistic about his long-term survival, but they’re unsure about a return to professional play. The damage to Steele’s heart and lungs may make the physical toll of pitching impossible to withstand.
But when asked what he wants most, Steele doesn’t hesitate.
“If I could just throw one pitch — one real pitch — at Wrigley… not for the stats, not for a contract, but for myself… and for the people who stood by me. That’s all I’d ask.”
The Cubs have quietly begun discussions about a ceremonial one-day activation in late September — a chance for Steele to step on the mound again, just once, in front of a standing-room-only crowd.
“Whether I can throw 95 or not, I want to walk out there with my head high. And maybe — just maybe — remind people that life, like baseball, is about how you fight back.”
One pitch. One dream. One man refusing to let go.
Justin Steele’s comeback might not be in the box score — but it’s already written in the hearts of every Cubs fan who ever believed in more than just the game.