I think one of the things that made Forest Gump such a popular character was his connection to so many important people and historical events. It’s only natural for people to want to feel that connected to history or famous people. As a result, some folks misremember things to give the impression that they were there. This happens all the time with sporting events, in some cases attendance figures have been inflated to include that neighbor who was at every major event.

Yesterday, the baseball world lost one of its greats, Willie Mays, at the ripe old age of 93. The testimonials continue to pour in. He impacted the game in so many different ways, but one of the most important was how he stayed in the game-especially with the Giants. Everyone that played for S.F in the past 50 years interacted with Willie-their memories are priceless. He also touched the lives of countless fans over the years. But what is heartening in many accounts that I’ve read this morning is how guys admitted to never meeting him but were still impacted by his grace on and off the field. They clearly aren’t misremembering in order to become part of the story.

Growing up in a predominantly NL household, I heard plenty of Mays’ exploits from my Dad, but his career was coming to the end when I started following the game. Like everyone else of a certain age, the 1973 World Series is etched in my mind. However, several players have since hung on a year or two long and I’ve witnessed that as well.

I do remember attending a Giants-Cubs game at Wrigley during the 1971 season. Dad didn’t overdo it though and when Mays didn’t do anything memorable, I wasn’t crushed. Other more personal connections with lesser players stood out-for better or worse. I can’t pretend that I saw him do something spectacular and I’ve learned that often happens in baseball. I spent three days in Minneapolis a few years ago and saw Mike Trout go 2-12 with a walk.

About a dozen years ago, I was in Arizona for ST and attended a Giants game in Scottsdale. I was in the parking lot before the game and heard Mr. Mays would be attending that day and he would be arriving within an hour. I hung out and witnessed him connecting with a young kid (8-10), offering to meet him during the game so he could present him with a gift. This simple act of baseball kindness ensured this kid would be a baseball fan, and a newfound friend of the Say Hey Kid.

He played with a joy for the game and several players have pointed to that as how they chose to carry themselves. He also realized he was an entertainer and sought to give the fans their money’s worth every single day.

R.I.P Mr. Mays.