Rest in Peace Kirby Puckett, Hero of my Youth
Despite the ever-looming specter of Thanatos on the horizon, I always get caught off-guard when somebody I know of dies. Even if the person is simply a celebrity or an athlete, they often seem so much a part of life that it doesn't make sense that life could continue without them. And yet the world goes on despite the loss of Kirby Puckett...
I must say I've never experienced any close bond with Mr. Puckett in any real way; I never met him personally, and I wasn't a fan of the Minnesota Twins. But all the same, his death made me feel like something from my past had suddenly vanished. Back in my younger days I happened to enjoy watching and playing baseball (2nd favorite sport to watch at the time after basketball), and although I didn't know many players or understand a lot about the game, I did grasp onto a few names. The first two that held a place in my mind were Nolan Ryan of the Texas Rangers (best pitcher ever in my mind) and Cecil Fielder of the Detroit Tigers, both of whom I had the pleasure of witnessing in the twilight of their careers at my first pro baseball game. The other one who stuck out for some unknown reason was Kirby Puckett. Maybe I just liked the name, but Kirby Puckett was one of three baseball names I could instantly recognize and thusly was one of the players I cheered for. I would cheer for the Twins to lose when I watched them play the Rangers, but I always wanted to see Kirby have a good game. He was one of those childhood heroes that I knew little to nothing about in my childhood; his virtue in my eyes was that he was a good player with a funny name.
So it's a little sad to hear that he passed away (at a fairly young age no less). He was something special to some forgotten part of me, and it bothers me a bit that the world goes on without one of my old heroes. Something just doesn't feel right about it. It's like when I first learned that Reggie Miller was retiring from the Pacers, an inescapable fact that I just couldn't ever picture happening. Reggie had been playing basketball almost every single year of my life, and he WAS the Indiana Pacers. I haven't been able to look at the Pacers the same way since he left. He was something I expected to be there forever.
But things come to pass. Careers wind down, lives end, and everything just keeps going without ever really looking back. Kirby will likely be almost totally forgotten by the future generations (except for hard-core baseball aficionados), but the name Kirby Puckett will always make me reminisce about the younger years of my life. I could go on to a big rant about how there aren't any athlete role models anymore, but perspective is skewed on the matter. Even if they are fewer and farther between than before, I have reached a point in life where athletes can't be my role models; athletics alone cannot convey greatness to me. My role models are much more personal, much more down-to-earth, not the nigh superhuman heroes of my childhood (Nolan Ryan, Reggie Miller, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Kirby Puckett, etc.).
So here's to Kirby Puckett: a great man, a great role model, a rich part of my past, and one hell of a baseball player.
I must say I've never experienced any close bond with Mr. Puckett in any real way; I never met him personally, and I wasn't a fan of the Minnesota Twins. But all the same, his death made me feel like something from my past had suddenly vanished. Back in my younger days I happened to enjoy watching and playing baseball (2nd favorite sport to watch at the time after basketball), and although I didn't know many players or understand a lot about the game, I did grasp onto a few names. The first two that held a place in my mind were Nolan Ryan of the Texas Rangers (best pitcher ever in my mind) and Cecil Fielder of the Detroit Tigers, both of whom I had the pleasure of witnessing in the twilight of their careers at my first pro baseball game. The other one who stuck out for some unknown reason was Kirby Puckett. Maybe I just liked the name, but Kirby Puckett was one of three baseball names I could instantly recognize and thusly was one of the players I cheered for. I would cheer for the Twins to lose when I watched them play the Rangers, but I always wanted to see Kirby have a good game. He was one of those childhood heroes that I knew little to nothing about in my childhood; his virtue in my eyes was that he was a good player with a funny name.
So it's a little sad to hear that he passed away (at a fairly young age no less). He was something special to some forgotten part of me, and it bothers me a bit that the world goes on without one of my old heroes. Something just doesn't feel right about it. It's like when I first learned that Reggie Miller was retiring from the Pacers, an inescapable fact that I just couldn't ever picture happening. Reggie had been playing basketball almost every single year of my life, and he WAS the Indiana Pacers. I haven't been able to look at the Pacers the same way since he left. He was something I expected to be there forever.
But things come to pass. Careers wind down, lives end, and everything just keeps going without ever really looking back. Kirby will likely be almost totally forgotten by the future generations (except for hard-core baseball aficionados), but the name Kirby Puckett will always make me reminisce about the younger years of my life. I could go on to a big rant about how there aren't any athlete role models anymore, but perspective is skewed on the matter. Even if they are fewer and farther between than before, I have reached a point in life where athletes can't be my role models; athletics alone cannot convey greatness to me. My role models are much more personal, much more down-to-earth, not the nigh superhuman heroes of my childhood (Nolan Ryan, Reggie Miller, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Kirby Puckett, etc.).
So here's to Kirby Puckett: a great man, a great role model, a rich part of my past, and one hell of a baseball player.