George Brett

George Brett was my idol growing up in baseball. He was the Royals in spirit and play. No one I have ever seen been so clutch in big situations It was his focus, his determination that drew me to him, a kid in Colorado whose only big game had been in Kansas City, when Brett was a rookie that only played in one game of a daylight doubleheader (remember those? They are never coming back.) For me, because baseball was everything, because it gave me the only solo time with my Dad, Brett was my Dad. the embodiment of how I should play. Always give your all. And I did. I don't know if I was good. I thought I was (I made my junior varsity team after not having played baseball for three year but they saw something). I kept trying to keep to the Brett ethic. Problem was, I was very asthmatic. That is why baseball was so dear to me (at first): I didn't have to run a lot. In fact, my first position was catcher, because that is where my dad played. I grew in love with the position, but it destroyed my knees. I went to first base. I enjoyed throwing out balls between innings. Going into right field for a cut off. It was fun and I didn't have to squat. Later, I played all positions, a utility man. When I got to the high school bit, I volunteered for the outfield, a position I hated. I had one great catch in practice, where the asst. coach sent me an accidental bloop and I reached out and dived. I caught it and had the presence of mind to throw the ball to the cutoff man. This was after I had done a body roll to prevent injury. Too bad it didn't last. Weeks later, I tried the dive without the body roll and not only did I miss the ball, I badly sprained my wrist, which sill bothers me to this day.