Guessing

Clare was so upset she called from work yesterday.  “Guess who died? Somebody I really liked.”  It was Tony Gwynn, one of her favorite players.

Why my daughter took to Frank Thomas, I have no idea.  Tony Gwynn, however, made perfect sense.  Clare played on the Bronco Ball Padres for a summer or two, and I liked how Gwynn approached the game, so I would have passed that on to my young hitter.  You don’t have to look like an athlete to be one.  And at 5’ 11”, Tony Gwynn did not look like someone who would collect 3141 hits over twenty seasons, only in one of which he failed to hit .300.

I particularly remember Gwynn helping Ted Williams throw out the first pitch for the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway Park; a lesser man might have tried to trip old Teddy Ballgame.  Williams liked Gwynn, but not to the point of forgoing criticism.  Gwynn hit with a “toothpick,” he wasn’t tapping into his power, he needed to turn on inside pitches….For his part, Gwynn loved Williams’ The Science of Hitting.

Yesterday was a big day for our daughter; the new car, her first one ever, was ready.  But she just couldn’t let it go.  “I hate when people do dumb things,” Clare told me, and by that she meant dipping tobacco, which was the probable cause of the cancer that killed Gwynn.  Of that, she need not worry with me.  I tried Mail Pouch once, and only once.