As Hall of Famers die, sport’s golden age is fading away
While growing up, there was a ritual adults of a certain age performed on a regular basis.
Whether it was a game of Wiffle ball, strikeout or a battle on the sandlot, youngsters stepped into the batter’s box and emulated their heroes.
In the Giesen household, the youngest son would get into a crouch and lean back to look like sweet-swinging Rod Carew getting set to use his magic wand to direct the ball into the outfield. His friends would churn their bats like a windmill to emulate Pittsburgh legend Willie Stargell.
Among the most notable copycats was the back-elbow fluttering of Cincinnati Reds second baseman Joe Morgan — the smallest cog who put the Big Red Machine into overdrive. Morgan died Monday at the age of 77. His death is the latest in a
depressing run of Hall of Famers dying in 2020.
Detroit Tigers legend Al Kaline died in April. New York Mets legend Tom Seaver died in August. St. Louis speedster Lou Brock died in September. St. Louis ace Bob Gibson and Morgan both died this month.
What makes it worse is that as baseball fans, we are losing the famed players from a golden era of baseball. The players from the 1950s through 1979 represent the final period where baseball was king. The NFL was starting to, but hadn’t completely usurped baseball as the country’s sport of choice.
And the players were mythical.
Henry Aaron and his remarkable consistency that led him to 755 home runs and, depending on whom you ask, the real home run title. Willie Mays with his hat flying off making amazing plays in the field and at the plate day after day. Brooks Robinson and his golden glove catching everything around third base. Carl Yastrzemski and his willing the 1967 Impossible Dream Red Sox to the World Series.
But unlike myths, these men are real, and they are still with us, sharing their legacy and the legacy of those around them. But each one is in his 80s. Time isn’t on their side or ours. And like the five Hall of Famers we’ve lost, when they’re gone, their lives become memories that are found in books, baseball cards and museums. They become almost unreal people that you hear dad or grandpa wax poetically about.
It’s sad, but the hands of time must move forward. Father Time’s perfect record of dominance will not end. Athletes like Mike Trout, Clayton Kershaw and Mookie Betts will
replace the heroes of the past, only to be followed by the likes of Fernando Tatis Jr., Bo Bichette, Luis Robert or Vlad Guerrero Jr.
But before that moment comes, let’s look back and enjoy the memories. Step up on the mound and dominate the inside corner with an intimidating glare while your knee scrapes the dirt and gets muddy from your followthrough. Wiggle that elbow one more time while holding a wooden Louisville Slugger. For one single moment, dash toward second with abandon while stealing away.
And for those legends that still walk this earth, read about them. Watch their career highlights. Listen to their interviews and learn. It’s how we respect them and, most importantly, respect the game.