Well done. An incredibly sad day, but what a legacy. Even today, it's hard to believe just how good he was. It's why statistical work by you and others help preserve a deep respect for the past as memories grow hazy and eventually fade away and disappear.
Even more incredible to me, is that after the 1973 World Series (I am a longtime A's fan), it became common to here people say that Mays was "overrated," a "showboat," and "hurt his legacy" with his performance in the Series. Some of that came from Yankees fans in the New York press. Still, even as a young kid rooting for Oakland that struck me as unbelievably ridiculous and cruel.
What I saw over time, however, was that none of that appeared to matter to Mays. He, as you say, embodied "the grace and class of an icon." Despite his staggering accomplishments as a player with the clear right to defend himself, he elected instead to carry himself with class and a quiet dignity in a way that vanquished his naysayers and critics.
It's a sobering reminder that legacies should not be assessed with "hot takes" or G.O.A.T. proclamations but allowed to mature and marinate in the minds of the interested community over time. Mays will forever be missed but will continue to inspire awe in anyone who decides to pick up a glove or review his career.
Well done. An incredibly sad day, but what a legacy. Even today, it's hard to believe just how good he was. It's why statistical work by you and others help preserve a deep respect for the past as memories grow hazy and eventually fade away and disappear.
Even more incredible to me, is that after the 1973 World Series (I am a longtime A's fan), it became common to here people say that Mays was "overrated," a "showboat," and "hurt his legacy" with his performance in the Series. Some of that came from Yankees fans in the New York press. Still, even as a young kid rooting for Oakland that struck me as unbelievably ridiculous and cruel.
What I saw over time, however, was that none of that appeared to matter to Mays. He, as you say, embodied "the grace and class of an icon." Despite his staggering accomplishments as a player with the clear right to defend himself, he elected instead to carry himself with class and a quiet dignity in a way that vanquished his naysayers and critics.
It's a sobering reminder that legacies should not be assessed with "hot takes" or G.O.A.T. proclamations but allowed to mature and marinate in the minds of the interested community over time. Mays will forever be missed but will continue to inspire awe in anyone who decides to pick up a glove or review his career.