The Feast of Willie the Greatest
Remember Feast Days? They’re back. At least for one glorious Friday afternoon, when we rightfully celebrate.
Please remember: I’m no poet. I’m no Carson Cistulli.
Life: Willie friggin’ Mays. Fourth all-time with 163.2 WAR. One of only five baseball players to eclipse the 150 WAR-mark. In center field, Mays flew.
Spiritual Exercise: Mays twice hit 50 home runs in a season; 51 in 1955, and 52, 10 years later, in 1965. Even time appreciated Willie Howard Mays, Jr.
A Prayer for Willie Mays:
Before my time,
Came Willie Mays.
A student of baseball history,
I learned: GOAT.
Willie Mays!
Before “The Catch,”
Before the home runs,
The MVP and World Series trophies,
Mays, a rookie in 1951, hitless in his first 12 Major League at-bats.
Lucky 13: a home run.
Against Warren Spahn, no less.
He’d hit 659 more, 17 more off Spahn.
Willie Mays!
New York, San Francisco, and back to New York.
A Giant, in baseball and in life.
Walk through AT&T Park
and look for Ted Williams’ words on the wall:
“They invented the All-Star game for Willie Mays.”
It’s true,
They did.
Eighty-years old today,
but forever just a Kid.
Say Hey!
Image courtesy blackathlete.net.
Navin Vaswani is a replacement-level writer. Follow him on Twitter.
I’m a fan of Carson’s Feast Days, but it’s actually refreshing to read one without the Cistullian sarcasm and absurdity.
Mays eclipses all sarcasm, but exudes absurdity in the way he played and lived.