My son is only six, but he’s baseball crazy and he’s adopted number 15. Of course, Thurman Munson wore 15, and he was my childhood hero. His death in 1979 was the most traumatic thing that happened to me as a kid. It was like the world had ended.
Finn asked me how he died today and I told him that he died in a plane crash while he was practicing takeoffs and landings. But I discovered that I simply couldn’t talk about it. I’m 46 years old, and I still can’t talk about Munson dying without sobbing.
There’s just something about doing things the right way.
Thank God I got Don Mattingly a few years later to set that example for me again. And then Derek Jeter. It’s been a blessing to be a Yankees fan, not because they have a big budget, but because I’ve had those three men to teach me how to conduct myself.
Munson died just before I turned ten years old. I was playing my first year of Little League. And he’d already taught me exactly how I wanted to be.
