Lifespans

The former Pittsburgh Pirates second baseman Bill Mazeroski died on February 20th at the age of eighty-nine. Mazeroski, who retired as a player in 1972, was only a middling hitter, but he was a standout defensive player who still holds the all-time record for turning the most career double plays at his position. The moment he will always be most remembered for, though, came at the plate: with the underdog Pirates batting against the New York Yankees in the bottom of the ninth inning in the decisive seventh game of the 1960 World Series, he belted a home run over the left-field fence, breaking a 9-9 tie and giving his team the game and the series. It's considered one of the greatest games in baseball history.

As famous as that moment was, I wouldn't bother to mention it except that it forms one of my earliest imaginary memories, certainly the first related to baseball or, for that matter, to anything outside of home and family. I say "imaginary" because I suspect that, given my age at the time (four), I would have been at best only vaguely aware of what was happening, and I only think I recall it because it was reinforced by repeated retellings after the fact. My parents weren't big sports fans, but since the Yankees were involved I'm sure they had the game on, and it's likely that I was in the room. The first baseball games I have definite memories of watching came four years later, in the 1964 series in which the ascendant St. Louis Cardinals put an end to the Yankee dynasty, at least for the next decade or so.

Mazeroski's death came just eight days after the death of his longtime teammate, the brilliant relief pitcher Roy Face, who was ninety-seven. I have no statistics to back this up, but longevity seemed to favor that 1960 Bucs team; as I write starting pitcher Vernon Law is alive, just shy of his ninety-sixth birthday, as is outfielder Bob Skinner, who is ninety-four. Bill Virdon, another outfielder, made it to ninety, and pitcher Bob Friend to eighty-eight. Who knows how old the great Roberto Clemente might have lived to be, if he hadn't died in a plane crash in 1972? (The champion of that series in this regard, though, was in the opposing bullpen: Yankee relief pitcher Bobby Shantz, alive as of this writing at the age of one hundred. He would play for the Pirates in 1961.)

Remember that Mazeroski's home run came during what was still the Eisenhower administration; JFK's triumph over Nixon that November, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Dealey Plaza, all of that still lay ahead. They say that life is short, and sometimes it really is (and tragically so), but at the same time it's astonishing to contemplate all that can happen in the span of a single life.

Stepping up to the plate

Two forceful and anguished statements in the wake of yet another mass shooting indicate that the stereotypical image of the American professional baseball player is seriously out of date or simply wrong. First, Nationals pitcher Sean Doolittle:

It just feels like we’ve reached a point where if not now, when? We should have done something after Sandy Hook; we should have done something after Vegas; we should have done something after Pittsburgh; I mean, you can go down the list. We should have done something after Virginia Tech. How far back do you want to go? And then the conversation inevitably always changes to mental health or bulletproof backpacks. We’re talking about ballistic blankets. We’re talking about renovating schools so there is only one entrance and one exit. We’re talking about arming teachers.

You’re describing a prison, and you’re bargaining and negotiating with people’s lives instead of just addressing the common denominator in every single one of these issues. It’s really frustrating, and I would like to think that in this country we’re capable of some common-sense reforms that a majority of Americans support that don’t infringe on your Second Amendment rights ... Who am I? I’m on the injured list. I’m a middle reliever on a team that unfortunately is in last place right now ... But we’re still members of societies and our communities, and there are people who look up to us as athletes, who listen to what we have to say as athletes.

And I think if you could start some of these conversations, or you can participate in some of these conversations and maybe get people to listen or put pressure on elected officials to do something, the reality is that you have a little bit more sway than the average person. And when it comes to making changes in your community, you can help move the needle on any number of issues that are important to you.

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Perhaps even more remarkably, San Francisco Giants manager (and former player) Gabe Kapler, on why he won't be coming out of the dugout during the playing of the national anthem:

I’m often struck before our games by the lack of delivery of the promise of what our national anthem represents ... We stand in honor of a country where we elect representatives to serve us, to thoughtfully consider and enact legislation that protects the interests of all the people in this country and to move this country forward towards the vision of the "shining city on the hill." But instead, we thoughtlessly link our moment of silence and grief with the equally thoughtless display of celebration for a country that refuses to take up the concept of controlling the sale of weapons used nearly exclusively for the mass slaughter of human beings.

We have our moment (over and over), and then we move on without demanding real change from the people we empower to make these changes. We stand, we bow our heads, and the people in power leave on recess, celebrating their own patriotism at every turn.

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Necrology

Three masters, three obits. Just an average day in 2020. Rest in peace.

Barry Lopez

Phil Niekro

Tony Rice