Kirby Puckett died two years ago today. Last week, after receiving an unsolicited remembrance from frequent commenter BC Beneke, I thought it would be cool to ask folks for their Puckett memories. I know this is a long post, but this is a time to take advantage of the endlessness of the Internet.

If you have a few minutes, I think you’ll enjoy these.

Here’s what BC Beneke wrote: I am 33 years old. He came up in the summer of 1984. I was watching the game on Channel 9. This tiny little black kid with a goofy name went 4 for 4. A few years later he had a Saturday that not many could ever dream of. He single handedly beat the Milwaukee Brewers with one of the greatest hitting performances that anyone has ever had in the history of the game.

His pudgy little legs, his barrel chest, and his ever brilliant smile, and those teddy bear eyes big and wide just like the man himself. I’ve tried to go over how many times I saw him play in person. I can’t. It was well over 100 times during his 12 years. I am guessing it was closer to 1000 times that I saw him play on television. It would have been more, but after having his career cut short by Glaucoma I didn’t get that opportunity, and neither did my son.

It was the home opener of the 1987 season; I was sitting in the 7th row behind home plate with my boss, my uncle, and my minister. Bert Blyleven (who should be in the Hall of Fame) was starting against the Oakland A’s. In that game Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson hit a ball to right center field. I was so pumped; I was going to see Reggie hit a homer. I had seen so many superstars get important hits, or hit home runs, but not this time, not that night… Kirby Puckett came out of nowhere, and jumped up, and caught the ball as it went over the fence. He robbed the great Mr. October of a home run. As I said, I’ve seen him play over a 1000 times in 12 years, but that was the moment that I will never forget. They went on to win that game, and eventually they won the division, the playoffs, and the world series to bring the first major sports championship in Minnesota in the modern sports era.

They say he played the game the way it was supposed to be played. Even when he lost his sight, and had to retire, he never sulked, he never backed out… he went in, and gave his team a pep-talk. At his retirement speech he was upbeat, and positive. At the ceremony to retire his number, I was in the crowd watching. He came out, and gave a speech that they should make a movie about. At his Hall of Fame induction ceremony he was outspoken on his love of the game, and of life. The late Bob Casey announcing his name in Cooperstown: “centerfielder… number 34, KIIIIIIIIIIRRBBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY PUCKETTTTTTT.

Like so many others here in Minnesota, Kirby Puckett wasn’t just our hero, he wasn’t just the guy that brought us two world series titles, no. In Minnesota with the way he played, and the way he treated us, he was a part of our families. He was the face of Minnesota, and now the eyes are closed, and tears are rolling down, and we’ll never see that smile again except in memories, and replay.

The irony is that they said he was too short to play. It ended up being that his career was too short, and his life was too short… He donated his organs to help others live…

The most famous line associated with him, and one of the most famous in baseball history after making a game saving catch in the top of the inning, he hit the game winning home run in game 6 of the World Series which lead to the greatest World Series game of the last 30 years….

Thank you for your amazing catches, the countless clutch hits, the ten All-Star games, 6 Gold Gloves, your 2m000+ hits, and thank you Kirby for doing it in a manner that helped me learn to love the game of baseball so very much. Thank you for everything.

The late announcer Jack Buck simply said… “…and we’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Well, as of now, tomorrow will never come again.

Brian Boothe shares: My memory of Puck is from 1999. He had been out of baseball for a long time and his weight showed it, but his sense of humor and laugh were still there. I was working as a busboy at Edina Country Club, which he was a member of, and it was a Halloween party for kids. Puck was there with his niece and a large group of kids (I’m assuming his own). I was going to Roosevelt High School in Minneapolis at the time and I played Tight End for our football team. I was walking around filling up water glasses and Puck saw me. He was sitting alone with his niece at the time and he asked, “What’s your name?” I was shocked he even noticed me, most people at the club just ignore the help. He asked if I played sports, I told him I played football and baseball. He smiled and asked what position I played in football. To understand why this is funny, you must understand I’m only 5′8 and I weighed about 155 lbs at the time. I said I played TE and Puck just started laughing and laughing. It was so loud every other table started to look at us. “You got to be kidding me, you are a tight end?” he said. I was so embarrassed, I filled up the water glasses and walked away. About 30 minutes later, he was getting ready to leave and he walked right over to me. He said, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, keep your head up and you’ll do great. You probably don’t remember this because you are too young, but I was once pretty small too, but I did allright, good luck kid!” He shook my hand and
left. That was the first and last time I ever met Puck and I’ll never forget that laugh.

Jason Yessak writes from Iowa: My thoughts and memories of Puckett will always be related to the time I spent with my father watching baseball. My father is no longer with me after losing his battle with cancer, but some of my most memorable moments about the Puck included my father. The smile the Puck would bring to my father’s face over the years was tremendous, something only a son could hope to share with his father. I remember attending the game when the Twins retired Puck’s number and seeing the tears in my father’s eyes. Those were tears of sadness, I also remember the two World Series championships. Those were tears of elation.

CSE remembers: I was born in 1977 and grew up in MN during the Kirby Puckett era. While playing in the backyard or the local sandlot, I think a lot of kids liked to fantasize about being Kirby. I never did. Yes, Kirby was my favorite player … but I always dreamed about being Gaetti or Gladden. That way, I could imagine being Kirby’s teammate and friend.

Matthew Novak of Arlington, Va., wrote this on his blog when Puckett died:

When I was ten years old I met a man named Kirby Puckett. An amazing athlete, he was doing the splits on the stairs which led down to the Metrodome field, where I was throwing out the first pitch. He must have seen my jaw drop, because as I passed he stuck out his hand and passed on a simple, joyful, knowing hello. “Hey kid.”

To a ten-year-old kid, baseball players are celebrities and the stars are heroes. But in the Upper Midwest, Kirby was more than a hero. He was a living legend.

In 1991, we all learned what a living legend can do. In Game 6 of the Greatest World Series Ever, on the brink of elimination, Kirby Puckett famously told his teammates to climb on his back, because that night, he would carry them.

He did.

Before that night he had been a tremendous - if unconventional - ballplayer. He put up amazing numbers, and he earned himself a spot in the Hall of Fame. And on that particular night, Kirby Puckett confirmed what every ten-year-old kid already knew: The man was special.

His heroics - both on the field and off - earned him well deserved accolades. He was both a 10-time All-Star and the Roberto Clemente Man of the Year. But it wasn’t the heroics alone that made Kirby special.

When I was ten years old, I knew that what made a great baseball player was the same thing that made a great person: heart. For those that knew him, and for those that watched him, it was his heart that made Kirby a living legend.

“I did what you’re supposed to do in life, and that’s what I tell my kids every day: Pick one or two things in your life, and put your heart into it. I gave my all to the game of baseball.”

If another player had said it, the words would sound hollow. Coming from Kirby Puckett, they’re an understatement. The man was a force of energy and excitement. He played baseball because he loved baseball. He was always keenly aware of how blessed he was to play for a living, and Puckett played every game like it could be his last. That passion was truly unique.

There are few ballplayers who can top Puckett with their on-the-field performances. There are fewer still who were able to inspire like he did. But there are none who played the game like Kirby.

When I was ten years old, my hero was a man named Kirby Puckett. He was my hero not because I wanted to play baseball as well as he did, but because he wanted to play baseball as much as I did. Kirby Puckett played baseball with the joy, the enthusiasm, the love, of a ten-year-old boy.

Kirby once said, “I’ve always tried to play the game the right way.” Kirby did not just play the game the right way, he set a whole new standard. The way he played baseball made him more than a man, it made him a living legend.

When I was ten years old I said hello to a man named Kirby Puckett. Today, when I am twenty-four years old, I say goodbye to a legend.

Topper Anton, who used to live in Bloomington, had this brush with Fame:
When I was only about 12 years old I started a bi-weekly newsletter
for my neighborhood that told little human interest pieces for all the
neighbors, but I was lucky enough through a few connections of my
parents to land an interview with my favorite Twins player ever: Rick
Aguilera.

I was taken with my Dad on a behind-the-scenes tour of the Dome, got
to see Rafael Palmeiro (yuck) take shots in the batting cage, and then
was led into the clubhouse for my interview. I was in AWE, and all of
my heroes were standing around joking, half dressed and in towels and
I was pretty embarassed as they led me over to Rick’s locker.

Of course everyone on the team was eyeing me and nudging each other as
I was led past them with my little notebook and tape recorder. One of
the guys giving me the most attention was good old Kirby, jolly as
ever and strutting around in what I could only make out as an
autographed jock strap, and I didn’t really want to look and see who
had autographed it or if my eyes were deceiving me.

When I was sat down in front of Rick and started to interview him, the
whole time in the background I could hear Kirby joking around. “Hey,
kid, don’t worry about him, why don’t you want to interview me?”

Other guys were ribbing Kirby too, saying, “Uh-oh, Kirby, looks like
your fans are going elsewhere!” and things like that.

I didn’t really think it was funny at the time, I just felt really
self-conscious. But looking back on it all now, talking to Rick and
getting teased by a mostly-naked Kirby Puckett were probably the
greatest memories of my childhood I could ever hope for.

Jesse Doughty remembers: Being born in 1980 I first came to love baseball around the time that Kirby was coming into the league. As a kid Kirby wasn’t just a baseball player, he was baseball. I can remember days when I would be playing outside and my parents would be watching a Twins game. They would holler for me everytime Kirby was coming to bat so I could run in to watch the guy I idolized. After each at bat I would run back outside and either swing my wiffle bat mimicking Kirby’s high leg kick or I would throw a ball in the air so that I could practice catching it just like him.

My most memorable moment watching Kirby is the game 6 homer off Charlie Leibrandt when I was 11. My dad and I were the only ones in our house that had been able to stay awake long enough to watch the entire game. When Kirby hit the homer my dad and I screamed so loud that we woke both my brothers and my mom. I thing that I will cherish most about Kirby though was the way he played the game. As I grew up playing baseball I tried to play the same way he did, by running out ever grounder and by always smiling. It’s still hard for me today to think about the downturn that my childhood hero has taken and I only hope that when I have kids that they have a ballplayer like Kirby to look up to.

Paul Guerrero met Kirby in Sioux Falls and, in a sweet way, his son’s life was forever changed: We met Kirby Puckett just once and that was at a Twins Caravan event in Sioux Falls… There were several hundred people there, and, as is the custom of the caravan events, an autograph session was held after the presentation. When my son (age 7) and I finally made it to him, he shook both our hands and made us feel like we were the only ones in the room. Even though the handlers were wanting to move things along, my son wanted to ask him a very important question for a 7 year old: “What’s your favorite ice cream”? He looked right at Derek and with that big Kirby smile, stated: “Black Walnut”…his favorite ice cream flavor to this day because it was Kirby’s.

Thanks, all, for sharing.

other people are here too.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 6th, 2008 at 5:15 am and is filed under Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.