It's hard when heroes die

Perhaps it's fitting that yesterday, amidst headlines of fictitious girlfriends and admissions of doping, we had a sports hero who, just as quietly as he excelled, passed away at the age of 92.

Stan Musial was my first sports hero.  Musial was, as to many men of that generation, my father's hero and thus he became my hero as well.  It didn't take much to bond my father and I together, as I worshipped the man that he was, but I now realize that it was Musial who, in many ways, was a key link for us when I was initially developing my interest in sports.

My dad was a St. Louis Cardinals fan as it was the closest franchise to our small town in eastern Kansas, and the Kansas City Athletics were a major league franchise in name only.  Many were the Sunday afternoon or weekday night that we would tune in Harry Caray on the transistor or car radio, listening to the tinny speakers carry descriptions of our Cardinals versus their National League foes.

I can remember my father straightening up in his seat or lawn chair when Caray announced that Musial was coming to bat.  And, I had seen enough television and photos of "the Man" to picture, in my mind's eye, the at-plate crouch and the number six turned to face the pitcher.

My favorite memory of Musial, my dad, and me was on a warm Sunday afternoon--July 8, 1962.  Dad and I were out by the orchard of fruit trees, lawn chairs in place, cool beverages in hand, and battery-powered transistor tuned in.  On that special day, a 41-year-old Stan the Man became the oldest player ever to hit three home runs in one game.  I vividly recall my father's glee as each Musial at bat brought the excitement of what he would accomplish that day.

I have found, in the past 24 hours plus, that many of my friends had similar bonds with their fathers via Musial.  And, I've re-connected, through the writing of Joe Posnanski and others, to Musial's unparalleled achievements and the humility in which he carried himself, both on the field and off.

An athlete who never was kicked out of a game and who seldom refused an autograph--what a contrast to the headline-stealing antics of others in sports over the past few days.  We miss you, Stan the Man--you were our hero.