Last night, I remarked that football, basketball and hockey were nice distractions while one waited for baseball to start again. Fortunately, there weren't any major sports fans in earshot, so I was spared from bodily harm.
Someone then asked me what I loved most about the sport. After making such a bold statement, I naturally stumbled over the question. I love so many things about baseball. I couldn't put my finger on just one.
Then this morning, I heard about Tug McGraw's passing. Over his nineteen-year baseball career, he pitched for the New York Mets and Philadelphia Phillies. I first heard of him when the Phillies last made it to the World Series in 1993 (Dykstra, Kruk, Schilling, and Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams). I cringe thinking about that series. Most people these days know him as Tim McGraw's father (assuming they've heard of the country singer).
McGraw is most famous for getting the final strikeout that clinched Philadelphia's only World Series championship back in 1980. That sentence alone is a reason why I love the game. There is a history to it. A great tale can be told of an entire team or a single man.
This morning's Today Show had a clip of Matt Lauer interviewing Tug last year.
Lauer: What was it you loved about baseball?
McGraw: Everything. I can't think of anything I didn't like.
He came up with the answer I was looking for and said it so easily.
1 Comments
I cried when I heard this. I was eight when they won the World Series. I remember how he would tap his glove over his heart when a heart stopping moment happened. As a little kid, he was one of my favorites. He is on my personal All-Phillies team.
If a sports star in Philly looked at how Tug got the city to love him they would learn that he had fun, Played like hell, and remembered he was getting a kings ransom to play a kids game. It does not hurt that he closed out a world series for us.
Tug, put of you will always be in my baseball loving heart.