Cardboard Heroes

In 1979, I became a member of the baseball card collecting community. My dad took me to a baseball card show and I looked around each booth...wide eyed. He had given me 20.00 to buy whatever I wanted. After thumbing through many cards, I settled on a Jim Rice 1977 Topps Card, and to keep him from being lonely, I picked up a Catfish Hunter and a Thurman Munson. As I left the Days Inn, my heroes were placed in my shirt pocket, just above my heart.



In 1985, Jay Pearson and I began buying cards by the box. We would go up to George Souther's gas station in Little Chicago, SC and buy boxes of unopened Topps, Fleer, and Donruss cards. We would rush home and find our lucky spots in the floor. You see, there is a magical art in picking just the right box. The picker must touch each box and wait for "the feeling". This feeling is hard to describe, as it varies for each person. For me, it is a warmth that permeates the body. It is a magnetic, or perhaps static electrical charge that is a sign from GOD. He says, "This is the box, you must get it, and take it home, and open it in your sacred space, and cherish the treasures forever."I opened up a pack, and saw a name that sounded cool. Of course people wanted Nolan Ryan, Don Mattingly, Darryl Strawberry, and Dwight Gooden. For some reason, I liked the way that the name, KIRBY PUCKETT, sounded. So, I began to collect all his cards. Very soon, Mr. Puckett became a great player. He was a great hitter and fielder. He won several batting titles, and won a few World Series. More than just a name, I became a fan of the way that he played. He always played the game with joy and enthusiasm. He was built like a fire hydrant, but could run fast, jump high, and smoke a baseball to all parts of the field.



So, over 600 different Kirby cards later, I finally secured a treasure. His 1984 fleer update card topped out at over 300.00 in appraisal. This was my favorite card for years, until I possessed 2 autograph cards. I picked up several great magazines, and all star ballots. I still have many of these keepsakes, and will one day tell my son stories of the Spark Plug player from the projects of Chicago, that had the city of Minneapolis and myself, watching his games, studying the boxscores, and cheering him on to greatness.




After retiring, Puckett had several issues with the law, each revolving around sex and battery of women. I was crushed. The good guy had become an enigma. It seems that he hit women, with the same ferocity as he hit a baseball. A few years ago, he was charged with grabbing a woman and pulling her into a bathroom stall. She fought him, and escaped. Just who is this Puckett...anyway? A hero...or a villain?Last night, Kirby Puckett died from complications from a stroke, at the age of 45. He is the second youngest Hall of Fame member to die, just a few years behind Lou Gehrig. Many people on TV and radio were discussing the Life and career of Puckett today. Some only talked about baseball,(10 time all-star in 12 seasons) while others dwelt on the off the field issues. Very few painted a picture of balanced texture, color, and depth.I wonder about what will be said about me when I die. I am not famous, but if my biggest error, my darkest moment of the soul, was in the paper, and on CNN for all the world to gawk and analyze. Would people remember the good, or the bad in me? I pray that people will remember me as one who was real. I think of Puckett making a catch over the wall, smacking a double off the Green Monster in Boston, or torching the Braves in 1991 (most consider this the greatest Series in the modern era) but for some reason....I never recall the strikeouts.