Harmon Killebrew, a notable giant in a game where eclipsed benchmarks are almost always forgotten, has announced that he will go into hospice care after what seems like an abrupt illness announced only yesterday; It was only December when it was made known that he was battling esophageal cancer.
The echoes of this man’s home runs rang long into my adolescence, when friends far more knowledgeable than me about the game, would throw his name into conversations about the greatest power hitters ever to menace the plate.
I didn’t know until this afternoon that he had made his start with the Senators. I also didn’t know that he had hit the most homeruns of any player in the 1960s.
Baseball players age much faster than the rest of us watching the game beyond the foul lines in some cruel Einsteinian wrinkle. Mr. Killebrew’s career was longer and more distinguished than the vast majority of players who somehow manage to play in the major leagues, but it still hurts me to hear of them passing on. Even in this era of astronomical paychecks and signing bonuses, and small time personas playing a big time game, baseball gives me something I could not put a price on, something not sold anywhere:
something to cheer for.
I was rooting for Mr. Kilibrew when I’d heard the initial diagnosis. I am rooting for him now in lieu of any thanks I cannot give him for all of the stories of his long, long, long home runs and the arguments his distinguished record inspired among my childhood friends.
Mr. Killebrew, it’s quite something to be 11th.
It really is.
-SJ
I was rooting for Mr. Kilibrew when I’d heard the initial diagnosis. I am rooting for him now in lieu of any thanks I cannot give him for all of the stories of his long, long, long home runs and the arguments his distinguished record inspired among my childhood friends.
Mr. Killebrew, it’s quite something to be 11th.
It really is.
-SJ
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It really was sad to hear the news. He and Mickey Mantle brought the term "tape measure home run" into being. The heroes of the last golden age of baseball are almost all gone now. Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax, Yogi, Whitey, Stan Musial are still with us, but who knows for how much longer. We need to cherish them while we still have them around. I never saw Mr. Killebrew play, but the stories of his amazing power displays were a big part of my baseball education. He may not be with us for much longer, but his legend will live on.
ReplyDeleteI remember you and Mejias dropping his name back in 84 like a full ten years after he'd retired and I'd always wondered if I was hearing you guys right because his name sounded so fucking strange. Seriously, I've never encountered the surname 'Killebrew' anywhere. I was too embarrassed to ask you guys exactly who he was and who he'd played for, so when I asked my friend at school (Jeff Schneider,) his father made a federal case out of it because neither of us knew. It would've been easier on me if I'd just asked you and Mejias in the first place.
ReplyDeleteIn the years since, I always marveled at how little bragging (none really) this guy did, compared to players still in the game with like nothing nearly as great a record to compare with.
The guy was just a giant. Reading his stats is like having somebody punch you in the eyeballs with numbers.
-SJ