Kirby Puckett Suffers Stroke

Good morning,

Sports fans received some sad news this morning about Baseball Hall of Famer Kirby Puckett, who helped the Minnesota Twins to two World Series Championships, and who has always been highly regarded by both players and fans alike. Sunday evening, Mr. Puckett suffered a stroke, underwent emergency surgery, and is listed in critical condition.

During his time in Major League Baseball, Mr. Puckett earned a lifetime batting average of .318, went to the World Series in 1987 and 1991, won the Golden Glove Award for his achievements as a big league outfielder, and was named to the League All-Star Team 10 times. He retired in 1996, after being diagnosed with glaucoma, which eventually took his eyesight in one eye.

Though I am lifelong fan of the New York Yankees, it's tough to hear when something like this happens. As kids we grow up idolizing players and their abilities, as adults we admire them for what they can do, but never in the way we did when we were young. Time has a way of proving how mortal we all are, and though there are moments when the true magic of our youth shines through, like watching an incredible play or hearing a great story about a player, where we smile and remember a time, or cheer at a game, throwing our fists in the air with a celebratory "YEAH!", it's situations like this that remind us they are just like any one of us. Sure, deep-down we always knew it, but there was a time when it would have been difficult to convince us, and that is the magic of which I speak.

I remember as a young kid playing outfield, one day when I made a jumping catch at the wall, my dad mentioned Kirby Puckett, the first time I had heard the name, but it wouldn't be the last. Through the years I'd see the occassional news clip of one of his great plays, or hear a sportscaster compare his manner of play to someone else, and it would always take me back to that time. A time of run-down ballparks, with the smell of a concession stand wafting through the air, a crowd spilling out of the bleachers onto the parking lot, my dad and me walking back to the car after a game, his arm around my shoulder, giving me a pat on the back, my glove still in hand, and head held high or low depending on the outcome of the game, though a win or loss never seemed to matter to my dad. I still see that smile, and sure miss those days.

My prayers go out for Mr. Puckett and his family. If I could tell him anything, it would be that very story I just shared with all of you, and how his name somehow found it's way into one of my fondest memories. I wish him all the very best on his road to recovery. Get well soon Kirby.

**UPDATE**
I sure hate to say, but Kirby Puckett passed away.
My prayers go out for him, his family, and all the fans out there who admired him. If there's a team in heaven, they sure couldn't do much better than having ol' Kirby playing centerfield. May he rest well, safe at home, once again.