The Say Hey Kid

It was as if the term "five tool player" was invented just for him, and some say indeed it was. There was nothing Willie Mays could not accomplish in (and on) his field of endeavor.

The basket catch was, and is, his alone. The hat flying off his head as he sped around the bases. He had the unmistakable grace of a dancer and the power of a race car. 

There was pulsating energy in every stride and pure unadulterated talent in every swing, each throw. The catch against Vic Wertz, Willie's back to home plate, not an aberration but an exclamation of greatness.

He was linked with Mickey and the Duke in the early 50's. Three young men, all playing center field in New York, all exploding on the scene at seemingly the same moment. For me, with Yankee pinstripes coursing through my veins, I am certain I failed to give Willie Mays full credit for his capacity. But numbers don't lie, and neither do the eyes. And what we all witnessed over the course of two decades was remarkable and immaculate.

He made a hard game seem simple. Played with passion and precision. A bounce in his step and a smile in his heart. Just like a kid. The say hey kid.