1961
“Willie Mays makes us young again. He makes us feel good about ourselves, our environment. He makes us reflect and smile. He makes us want to do better and be kinder.”
— John Shea, sportswriter and co-author of Mays’ memoir 24: Life Stories And Lessons From The Say Hey Kid
I’m pretty sure Willie Mays was my first baseball memory.
Not any particular game or play. Just Willie.
Much smarter people can remember exact details of their very first baseball game.
Not me. I was in my 20s before I got to my first game. And, I can only tell you a few things.
It was the Orioles. It was Memorial Stadium. It changed me.
There’s no Willie Mays in that memory. He’d retired more than a decade earlier.
But, still, long before that first live game, Willie Mays was baseball to me.
My memory is simple. Just Willie in his Giants uniform, standing in the outfield. Playing baseball.
Bob Costas has said that Willie Mays exuded joy. Maybe that’s what I felt. I don’t know.
My dad never took me to a game. I never saw Willie play. But, I knew. I just knew, Willie Mays was everything that baseball was and should be.
Here I am, a California girl, sometime during the last seasons of Willie’s career with the Giants.
I owned no baseball cap and the glove I had wasn’t even leather — it was made of some weird plastic thing. It’s long gone.
My dad was a Dodgers fan so, naturally, I rooted for the Giants. And, that meant Willie Mays. He was nearing the end of his career by then, but no matter. Willie was Willie and I might not have known a lot about baseball, but I knew that Willie was great.
Here it is – my Willie Mays’ baseball card, updated in 1972 in my young, heartbroken hand, angrily scratching out Giants and scrawling Mets at the top.
How could they trade Willie away? How could they do such a terrible thing? I didn’t forgive the Giants until 2011.
Today, I know much more about baseball. Not a lot, but enough. Enough to know that Willie was not only great, he was the greatest.
Willie was always there, not too far from my memory. Even when I strayed from baseball and other sports intruded.
My dad, ever the good sport, let me paint Bill Walton’s name on the backboard over his shop when I was a kid. I thought seeing Bill’s name up there would inspire me to grow taller and improve my shooting. (It did neither.)
His loss this year also makes me sad.
(And, hey, before you complain about the quality of that photo, understand that I was maybe 14 at the time, and I both shot the basketball AND took the photo.)
I’ve written a lot about Willie Mays on here. But, the Willie Mays’ story I’m most proud of is 147 Miraloma Drive, about Willie’s efforts to buy a house in a white neighborhood in San Francisco in 1957 ahead of the Giants move from New York. I wrote it in 2020, when covid first locked us down in our homes. It’s one of the most popular things I’ve written on here.
Jane Leavy, the baseball historian, once wrote that your 29th birthday is “the last one before you get old.”
She meant baseball players, I think. Not the rest of us.
I think that each of us has something that connects us to our childhoods. Something we can hang on to. Something that reminds us that we’re not so old. Something or someone that gives us that ever-tenuous tie to our youth.
Today, the first day without Willie Mays, is the day I lost that. I feel older now. Empty.
Something great was taken away.
Someone who was the greatest.
Maybe you feel that, too?
The Baseball Bloggess 
Beautiful tribute. I admire your honesty and love that you weaved together the loss of Bill Walton with Willy Mays, two great losses. How many people can say they painted Bill Walton on a backboard! Excellent!! For me, it was Harold Baines, my hero that takes me back to the formative baseball years. It never gets old.
I’m reading Jane Leavy’s “Sandy Koufax: A Lefty’s Legacy”….so far very inspiring. She’s a great writer but sadly I agree with her about our 29th birthday as “the last one before you get old.” However, Grandma Moses didn’t start painting until she was 78, so here’s to us older folks trying new things. My girlfriend assigned me to water about a dozen plants every day. Great to have you back Jackie!
Thanks, Steve! I agree, Leavy’s Sandy Koufax bio is fab; I read it just recently, too. I’m currently reading her book on Mickey Mantle which is just heartbreaking in so many ways. I came away, like you, so inspired by Koufax and, now, I’m just sad, disillusioned, but, I guess, not surprised by Mantle. During this week as we’ve heard a lot and read a lot about Willie Mays, it just reinforces how great Willie was on so many levels. The greatest.
So good to hear from you. I miss writing on here and I especially miss reading some of my favorite writers, like you. I’m going to try to rectify that!
It’s great to have you back Jackie. I hope you keep writing. WordPress is the closest I’ve ever been to a writing group and it means a lot.
It is impossible to “like” this news, but very possible to “like” the way you expressed it. Great job, as usual.
v
Thank you, v. While I’ve gone dark on here more than I would like, I have been working on one of my “Dozen Things You Should Know” posts — which continues your series. I hope to have it done in the next week or two. I need to make this blog a priority. I miss this little blog world and all the nice baseball fans on it!
So great to see you back! You have a way of sharing memories that makes me remember the “good old days” before sports became big business. Thanks Jackie.
Thank you, Gloria! Work has run me ragged of late and I sure miss writing on here. I’m going to try to make it priority again. And, I owe you a visit. I’ll be in touch about that! :)
My earliest memory of being at a baseball game involved Willie. It was a doubleheader between the Cubs and the New York Giants at the Polo Grounds. (Yeah, that makes me feel old.) Maybe 1955 or 56. My dad only took me to Sunday doubleheaders. Better value for your ticket. Early in the first game, it might have been the first inning, Willie hit a slow roller to third. The throw to first base was wild. Willie ran to second and kept going. The Cubs first baseman, Ernie Banks, threw across the diamond but it got by the third baseman. Willie scampered home. You can’t tell me I didn’t see Willie Mays hit a home run.
Wow, Ken! You should have written this post, not me. Your Willie “home run” story is fabulous! I guess that’s a two-error play (and one by Ernie Banks? This story has everything!) I love everything about this story and I’m so glad you shared it here. Thank you!
Hey! It’s you! Writing about baseball things!
(I didn’t mean to seem so excited over a post about an all-time great dying. I was just surprised to see you again.)
I knew what you meant! :) Yes, I’m juggling a lot of writing at my “work-work” which impacts my baseball writing which, of course, I’d much rather be doing. I need to carve out some time to sneak back on here more regularly, because I love the little blogging community and writing baseball is such a joy. Thank you for being part of that wonderful blogging community.