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A Willie Mays Story

 With the passing of Willie Mays, comes the passing of a genuine icon.  While the label icon is thrown about so easily these days, Mays was the real deal.  Simply the best.  As my friend Bill said, "a part of my childhood died today."

Willie was the idol of so many kids growing up in the 1950s. He entered my consciousness in 1954 as a 7 year-old. We all saw "the catch" on black and white TV.  There was no replay back then, but there was grainy film of that amazing play.  I'd go out in the backyard and try to replicate the play by tossing a baseball over my head and trying to be Willie.  By age 8 I had to have a Willie Mays glove.  Living in LA, that was not easy.  But my dad, a New Yorker and avid Giants fan, took me downtown to United Sporting Goods where they had a wall of gloves.  A brand new McGregor Willie Mays autographed glove became my most prized possession.  The day I robbed Joey Ball of a home run by leaping in front of the center field fence at the Sun Valley Little League, I was sure Willie was with me.

While I never met Willie in person, I did see him play, first at the LA Coliseum, Dodger Stadium, and later on Candlestick Park.  There was an aura of excitement around Willie every time he stepped into the batter's box or took his position in center field.  I did come close to making his acquaintance one day back in the early 1980s.  



At that time I was a correspondent for a national thoroughbred horse magazine covering the big races, and the people and places in Northern California that made up the racing scene.  One summer, when the horse racing moved to the Summer Fair circuit, I stopped by the State Fair in Sacramento to pick up some press releases in the press box there.  As I was ascending a staircase in the back of the grandstand, an announcement came on telling the crowd that Willie Mays and Johnny Unitas were no longer signing autographs.  Apparently they had been signing programs, baseballs, and photos for the racing fans.  "Damn," I thought. I missed my chance to get a Willie Mays autograph.  As I climbed to staircase to the press box, I noticed three people ahead of me, casually climbing their way up there too.  A closer look revealed that it was the publicity director, Johnny and Willie.  I stopped to catch my breath.  In my head, I rehearsed the conversation I'd have when we all got to the press box.  Of course, I thought, lots of big time athletes hand out in the press box.  Most of them follow horse racing and really like the equine athletes.  I used to see Joe DiMaggio all the time at Bay Meadows and Golden Gate Fields.  

As I neared the trio in front of me, I suddenly realized they were probably tired of signing autographs and talking to people. I reconsidered.  What if Willie Mays refused me, or told me to get lost, or was otherwise bothered by my request.  I couldn't risk that.  I wanted only positive memories of him.  Now I know he probably wouldn't have rejected my request, but since I couldn't be sure, I just let it be.  No regrets.  I would have just fawned all over him and regressed to my 8-year-old self.  Not pretty.  Getting that close to Willie was close enough.


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