h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Stan Musial died yesterday at age 92. Cardinal Nation has lost our greatest hero and role model. He was very frail the last time he participated in a home event, riding in a cart onto the field rather than walking. His grandson took over the interviews. Rumors were that he had dementia. I don't know if that's true or not, but at his age it's certainly possible.

You need to understand that I was raised in a household where baseball was a religion, Sportsman's Park was the Promised Land and Musial was the high priest. I was 14 when Stan the Man retired in 1963. The nearly 300 mile trip to St. Louis to the ballpark was a rare treat, but I listened to thousands of Cardinals games on the radio, with my dad when possible, by myself when he wasn't around.

Baseball was a large part of my life as a kid. One of the advantages of growing up in Little DooDah during the 50s and 60s was that we felt an attachment to several genuinely great baseball players. Mickey Mantle grew up 30 miles from here and got his start playing in Joplin. The Boyer brothers, Ken, Clete and Cloyd, grew up 8 miles from our house. Flesh and blood heros who showed up during the off season, willing to sign autographs when we ran in to them and talk baseball. Cloyd is the only one left. He and his wife helped me put together a baseball exhibit at the library a couple of years ago, let me hold his world series ring. Heaven!

Mick and Clete were Yankees, so I was a Yankees fan, too. But no team could really compete for my affection with the Cardinals. Musial was a big reason for this. He wasn't just a great player, he was a decent man. So, thanks for the wonderful memories, Stan, and for being such a great inspiration and role model for all of us. You will be greatly missed. Godspeed.

Thanks for sharing that, Hypatia. He will be missed.