Appreciating Bobby Ray Murcer
The news that came from Bobby Murcer himself on Wednesday was not what anyone in baseball wanted to hear. The tumor recently discovered in Murcer’s brain is malignant. That revelation, coupled with the whispers that doctors were not able to remove all of the tumor in a recent operation, adds up to a scenario that no Yankee fan wants to envision.
As a Yankee fan who grew up in the late 1960s and early 1970s, I liked Bobby Murcer as much as anyone on the team—with the possible exception of Thurman Munson. There weren’t many reasons to watch the Yankees those years. Oh, they weren’t as bad in the pre-Steinbrenner era as they have been portrayed by some of us, but they were highly non-competitive, non-contending teams—the epitome of what we like to call "mediocre." They had only a few good players—Munson and Murcer, Roy White, Mel Stottlemyre, Sparky Lyle, that was about it—and few prospects for catching up to the likes of the dynastic Baltimore Orioles and Oakland A’s. Yet, I still liked those Yankee teams, because they were the first that I followed in childhood—and because guys like Murcer made it fun to root for them. At such a young age, I didn’t mind that Murcer wasn’t as good as Mickey Mantle, like some old-timers felt he should have been. In my mind, Murcer was plenty good; he was a little 180-pound guy who showed surprising power from the left side of the plate, ran faster than most white guys were supposed to run, and played a capable center field. He also seemed to be an easy-going, down-home, pleasant sort of gentleman, and all of that added up to him being one of my favorite ballplayers.
One of my earliest (and favorite) baseball memories involved Murcer during a game in the early 1970s. As I vaguely recall the situation, the Yankees were trailing by a run and down to their last out in the bottom of the ninth, when Thurman Munson reached on a two-out single and Murcer followed with the most dramatic of blows, a game-winning two-run homer. My memories of this game are so hazy that I’m not sure if those were exactly the circumstances—and I’ve never been able to pin this game down to a boxscore—but in a sense it doesn’t matter. Either way, Murcer was a hero to me.
Even as I’ve grown older and learned more about Murcer, my view of him has not become jaded, but rather my appreciation has only grown. (An opportunity to interview him for MLB Radio several years ago did not disappoint.) Here’s a man who had to overcome so much early in his career. Murcer lost two years of his development—and potentially two of his prime seasons— in 1967 and ’68, by serving in the military during the Vietnam War. That delayed his fulltime arrival in the major leagues until 1969. Even then, the Yankees had him at the wrong position. Although they had given up on him as a shortstop, they felt he could play third base. That was a mistake; he made 14 errors in his first 31 games. Thankfully, they realized that his speed and arm would play well in the outfield. He made the transition smoothly in mid-season, hit well in the second half of the season, and emerged as the team’s everyday center fielder.
Murcer played well, if not spectacularly, in center field. He twice led the American League in assists, and in 1972, won a Gold Glove. Still, the Yankees weren’t satisfied. Prior to the 1974 season, the front office made a deal to acquire a slick-fielding center fielder named Elliott Maddox from the Rangers. The Yankees made Maddox, who didn’t hit much and had no power, the everyday center fielder and moved Murcer to right. Even then, I thought it would have more sense to acquire a right fielder with some power and just leave Murcer in center field. Murcer handled the move about as well as his fans. He sulked about the change, creating friction between himself and manager Bill Virdon.
Little did Murcer fans like me realize that the move to right field would foreshadow a more radical change to the Yankee landscape. After the 1974 season, the Yankees announced a trade. There were no rumors, no indication that it was about to happen. On October 22, the Yankees announced that they had traded Murcer, arguably the team’s most popular player, to the San Francisco Giants for fellow outfielder Bobby Bonds.
It didn’t matter to us Murcer faithful that Bonds was the better athlete, and ultimately, the better player. To begin with, our team wasn’t very good. And now, one of the primary reasons that we still enjoyed following the team had been taken away from us. It had nothing to do with Murcer being white and Bonds being black, as some cynics might say in retrospect; it had everything to do with a removal of a fan favorite, without warning and without fanfare.
The trade made Murcer more miserable than even his fans. He wanted to play his entire career in pinstripes. He would end up developing a hatred for Candlestick Park and its ill winds. A subsequent trade to the Cubs would do little to appease him; even quaint Wrigley Field paled in Murcer’s estimation to Yankee Stadium.
Banishment to the National League only worsened for Murcer because of the Yankees’ simultaneous return to glory in the American League. As Murcer bounced from San Francisco to Chicago, the Yankees emerged as three-time pennant winners and two-time World Champions. Murcer should have been a part of that—a big part, along with Munson and Reggie and Catfish—but the fates of baseball dictated otherwise.
Thankfully, the story didn’t end there. In June of 1979, the Yankees had the good sense to make a trade with the Cubs, reacquiring an aging Murcer for a little known minor league pitcher named Paul Semall. Although the Yankees would soon fall out of contention in the American League East, the trade reunited Murcer with Munson, his best friend on the Yankees, allowing the two to enjoy each other’s company for at least a few weeks before the tragic plane crash that took Munson away in early August. And then, just hours after eloquently delivering Munson’s eulogy, Murcer gave us one of the signature moments of his career. Playing in front of a nationally televised audience on a Monday night, Murcer drove in all five runs with a home run and a single, giving the Yankees a dramatic, come-from-behind win against the Orioles. In a miserable season, Murcer provided us with one lasting highlight that I would remember forever.
Murcer would never win a World Series with the Yankees, but that wasn’t so bad. He at least became an integral part of two significant Yankee clubs of the eighties. In 1980, he served as a useful role player for that great **** Howser team that won 103 games during the regular season. In 1981, Murcer skillfully came off the bench, helping the Yankees win the American League pennant for the first time since 1978 and earning himself an appearance in his first World Series.
Even after his playing days, Murcer has remained a visible part of the Yankee family, working as a broadcaster for the team on WPIX and the YES Network. Along the way, he’s attended every "Old-Timers Day" that I can remember, recently providing comic relief with his futile old-timers Game at-bats while working with a series of celebrity hitting coaches. While always willing to poke fun at himself, he’s provided an active link to a simpler era in Yankee history.
I hope Bobby has a chance to pick up that elusive hit in this year’s Old-Timers Game. Baseball fans, please say a prayer that we all get to see that this summer.
Bruce, thank you for your comments on Bobby Murcer. Brought tears to my eyes. I have a very soft spot fo him, as he began his baseball career in my hometown - Johnson City, TN. I was a kid when he was here, and I remember the fans being very fond of him. I didn't go to any games back then, because my dad wasn't a fan and we lived on the other side of town. But I followed the JC Yankees through the newspaper stories and rooted for Murcer from afar. Then it was extra special to see his name in box scores as a Yankee only a few years after he'd played here. He was always one of my personal favorite players, and I remember the Munson tragedy and Murcer's uplifting tribute to his friend ...
God bless him and his family through this ordeal. I'm praying for him, still here near Johnson City where his career began.
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Beautifully stated ....
Murcer was also my "first favorite player" (see my blog for more details)
BTW, I searched through Baseball-Reference.com's Retrosheet info on Murcer. He hit only 3 game-ending HRs in his career, none of them with 2 out and Munson on base.
Maybe its just as well your memory is hazy .... hazy is good at a time like this.
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Many may have forgotten, but when Bobby Murcer was with the Chicago Cubs he hit a home run for a kid he had visited in the hospital. The kid was dying and he promised him a home run. Yeah just like Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth did. I still have the article that I kept all these years. The problem was he hit it on a nationally televised game and Howard Cosell told the world about it. Along with the fact that the kid was dying. Which the kid didn't know. This was eventually parodied on Saturday night Live with Garret Morris playing the dying kid. As Casey would say,"You can look that up".
I met and talked with Bobby Murcer years ago at a Yankee Fan festival that was held in the early ninties. What a great guy!. I got an autograph and spoke to him about 5 minutes about the 4 straight home runs I saw him hit in a double header against the Indians years ago. His line for autographs was the longest then. Not because there was so many people to get his autograph, but that he took the time to talk to people where the other players just signed autographs. God bless him in his fight. There should be a place on the WEB where all Yankee and baseball fans can write him a note of encouragement so he can understand how many people care about him.
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Bruce:
Thank you for a moving tribute to a classy individual.Like you , Bobby was my hero as a kid growing up in the late 60's and early 70's. I was a big Mickey Mantle fan and when he retired Bobby carried that torch.
I always wanted to meet him. I had that opportunity unexpectededly at Legends Field in 2005. He caught the corner of my eye when he was leaving the stadium after broadcasting a game. He was almost in the parking lot when I caught up to him. I asked him for an autograph and he said, "It's about time, I thought you would never get here". Apparently,he saw me running after him. He graciously signed my ball as I told him he was my childhood hero. I met him again the following year and he was just as kind.
My prayers go out to him and his family as he battles cancer.
Jack Fass
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As a child bobby murcer was my favorite player and as i got older i was happy to learn that he was a better person. when i was 12 years old i said that i was going to name my son after him and i did. i don't regret it for a minute.
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I just wanted to say that Bobby is a true hero and that we are all pulling for you Bob. You are going to fight this cancer as hard as I saw you fight thoughs monuments in center field many times. I think it would be nice to have a page were all Yankee's fans could post there appreciation for him. We are all behind you Bobby, keep on swinging away and you'll make it through this like the champion you are.
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BOBBY MURCER WAS MY HERO. One of my first games as a child,July13th 1973,Bobby hit 3 home runs in one game against the K.C. Royals. I still have the scorecard. I had sent it in to have Bobby sign it at a steiner signing in N.Y. in 2005. MURCER was the ray of hope to Yankee fans during the 60's and 70's. The best player on an average team. Bobby carried the Yankees with grace,class and dignity. Like Gehrig.Dimaggio and Mantle, there was no doubt that he was a YANKEE when he took the field. BOBBY was a Yankee and always proud of that. Timing was against him. BOBBY made the team when MANTLE.MARIS,HOWARD were on board. BOBBY'S playing time was cut short with these legends due to military service. BOBBY came back in 1969,with full force,but the dynasty he joined was gone,FORD,MANTLE,BERRA retired,MARIS AND HOWARD were traded. BOBBY had the legend of MANTLE to liveup to. Without the support of a spectacular team,BOBBY forged ahead. The team showed some promise in 1973. The move to Shea in 1974 hurt BOBBY. Steinbrenner,who had promised to never trade BOBBY MURCER went back on his word and MURCER was traded for BOBBY BONDS.Now the team that BOBBY MURCER carried was on the climb,he did not reap the rewards for his groudwork.During 1975-1978 there were MANY post season games for the Yankees,and 2 World Series championships. MURCER'S TIMING WAS AGAINST HIM AGAIN. 1979,Murcer was back,traded from the Cubs,back to NEW YORK. BOBBY MURCER was winding down now,BOBBY GOT TO SEE HIS ONLY POST SEASON IN 1981,only to exit without a ring to the Champoinship Dodgers. Well,I hope BOBBY'S timing is right this time. I hope they caught the cancer in time.Cancer took his brother DEWAYNE MURCER.,,TO ME, BOBBY MURCER IS THE SILENT HERO,ONE THAT DID NOT COMPLAIN OF HIS SHORT COMMINGS. HE BELONGS IN MONUMENT PARK,ALONG WITH THE OTHER NUMBER 1 BILLY MARTIN. WE, THE FANS WHO GREW UP IN THE 60'S AND EARLY 70'S DID NOT HAVE A DYNASTY OF SPECTACULAR PLAYERS, WE HAD ONE HERO AND HIS NAME WAS BOBBY MURCER.
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I've been teary eyed since Christmas when hearing about Bobby's health news. I pray as he's asked for his recovery. No one looks like he's taken care of himself or lived the clean life like Bobby! God Bless Bobby as He's blessed us with Bobby. Here's hoping he can show up for old timers's day in Great health!
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I too was young teenager in the late sixties/early seventies and listened to as many Yankee games as I could get on radio, in Buffalo NY. Murcer was our hope to beat Baltimore and Detroit during those years. All the entries above brought back great memories. Bobby did hit a three run walk off home run off the Angels' Clyde Wright (Jaret's dad) on August 5, 1969 that won a game at the Stadium. I remember listening to that one. I was just looking at that boxscore online.
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My thoughts and wishes are with Bobby and his family. I
hope to see and hear Bobby at
the games this year.
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Thought I would share a piece I wrote about Murcer last year....thanks for your touching write-up.
Our baby sitter Alison has an expression that my wife and I have grown to love: sharing is caring. And while she uses it mainly to referee possession disputes between our 3 year-old twins, I like to think she also means something more profound: sharing is the ultimate demonstration of love and caring for small children. If you need proof, witness the bond that toddlers have with those who play with them on the floor. Dropping to their altitude elicits smiles and offers of everything from toys to soggy crackers.
So it is that sharing a first name with the Yankees' centerfielder was enough for me to become an adoring, mildly obsessed fan as a boy. Bobby Murcer was a pillar of my childhood. I don’t remember the first time I heard his name; the memory has no distinct start point. Murcer’s name conjures memories of watching Yankee games in the den of our house in Union, NJ. My father and I are on the couch. The room is dimly lit, it’s Saturday afternoon, and, even as a 6 year old, I know that Phil Rizutto is off-topic. My father questions the Yankees’ courage with peculiar accusations (“Bloomberg, your pants are brown!”), and I ask him six-year old questions: by how many points does a homerun raise a batting average? How long until Murcer is up again?
This is joy: my two heroes, in one poorly air-conditioned room.
Soft dissolve to: my father pitching me tennis balls in the backyard. I hit several of them over the fence, across Rahway Avenue, into the front yard of the factories across the way. My father spins and watches the shots as they clear the crab apple tree, and then turns to me with a smile. He retrieves them, dodging traffic, while I practice my swing in slow-motion. I wear a Yankee T-shirt with “MURCER” on the back (iron-on letters courtesy of Mom).
In 1974, we attended Old Timer’s Day at Shea, the Yankees’ temporary home while their stadium was being refurbished, and the place where Murcer’s long drives became long outs. I have a picture from the trip, snapped from the upper deck without the benefit of zoom technology. If you squint and hold it at the right angle, you can see the old timers lining up on the field. My friend Jeff is in the lower right corner waving. His smile is that of a boy who can’t believe his good fortune. Shea is a magical place that day. I am too young to know that it will also be the final resting place of Bobby Murcer’s Hall of Fame potential: he hits just 10 home runs that summer, and there are whispers that the Can’t-Miss-Kid was over-hyped.
After we moved to a larger home to accommodate the arrival of my third sister, I joined little league. The practice with my dad paid off—my baseball skills were better than many boys. I was voted to the All-Star team. The game was covered by the local paper, and I don’t need to look at the wrinkled article to tell you the headline: “East beats West in Small Fries’ Big Game.” There is a team photograph, and I am unsmiling and professional, holding a ribbon. It is a proud day, the sort of day where it’s not too far-fetched to think that this slight, freckle-faced boy might one day patrol centerfield for the New York Yankees. Kindly, I’m not aware that it is the last time I will play in an All-Star game.
My father broke the news to me the day Murcer was traded to the Giants for Bobby Bonds. He sat next to me on the couch, awkwardly anticipating my grief. “Your buddy got traded today,” he said. After processing it, I remember saying the only thing that came to mind: “I’m so sad, Dad.” I ran to my room and cried. Shortly thereafter, there was a picture in the newspaper of Murcer and his wife. He was trying on the San Francisco uniform. He was smiling, but his eyes were sad.
I was a small boy, and seemed to get smaller as the boys around me grew. There are small boys who can compensate with pluck and speed. I was not one of them. After getting hit on my bony frame by pitches a few times, I was terrified to bat: my right foot (I batted lefty) would twitch and often bail out on its own. Pitching control, previously my forte, became my weak spot: batters came to the plate salivating, knowing the offering would be slow and down the middle. Eventually, I was moved to the outfield, where I grazed lazily with the other boys who were either small, unskilled or uninterested. In the fifth grade, I made a great over-the-shoulder catch in left field, after running for what seemed like days. The other outfielders seemed alarmed-- I’d ruined a good thing by raising expectations. As I came back to the bench, there was stunned clapping from the parents and slaps on the back from teammates. It was like I had been re-discovered for a brief moment, as if everyone simultaneously ran into an old acquaintence whose name they couldn’t quite remember.
My final year of baseball, I played more out of fear of hurting my father’s feelings than desire. After mustering the courage to tell him how I felt, I retired at 12. Dad smiled and hugged me.
I tracked Murcer closely through his years in San Francisco (where he was admittedly miserable) and in Chicago after he was traded to the Cubs in 1977 for Bill Madlock. He had good, solid years, never great. He missed the Yankees World Series years of 1976-1978, and I wondered how he felt as he sat in San Francisco or Chicago, watching his old friends Lou Pinella, Graig Nettles, and Thurman Munson celebrate at Yankee Stadium. He was eventually brought back to the Yankees for the end of his career, and retired a Yankee in 1983.
I eventually got bigger, but it was too late for a baseball career. I took up running, and would stop and watch my friends play high school ball on my way back from the track. They would be laughing, shagging fly balls, shouting insults to one another. I would walk slowly, my running shoes strung over my shoulder, smiling and yelling to them.
Today, Murcer announces the Yankee games on TV. The shock of black hair is now gray, and his soft Midwestern drawl carries gently on the summer night air in New Jersey. He is nearly apologetic when his career comes up, and I smile. My daughter Emma wears the Murcer shirt I wore as a boy, tripping on it as she runs around our den. I am tired after a long day. I close my eyes for a moment and see the old crab apple tree, and a boy and his dad. I listen to Murcer speak, and I have never been more content.
We’ve never met, Bobby Murcer and me, but we are old friends.
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Bobby Murcer was my favorite player when I was a young boy who became a lifelong yankee fan. I am saddened to hear of his illness and I pray for his full recovery.
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My husband and I enjoy Bobby Murcer's broadcasts soooo much! My husband was Thurman's No.1 fan as a child and, of course has so many fond memories of Bobby...esp that infamous game following Thurman's funeral. Bobby is a true testament to humanity and is the ultimate Yankee!! God bless him as this struggle with cancer continues. He will be in our hearts and prayers!! Good luck, Bobby! Love, L&J
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Since I was a little girl watching the Yankees on TV with my father in the early 1970's...Bobby Murcer was my all time favorite player..no one even came close.....I was upset when he was traded to the Giants and then to the Cubs only to be elated and thrilled when I heard the news that he was returning to the Yankees in 1979 and yes reuniting with Thurman Munson for those last few weeks before Munson's tragic crash and then to see Bobby win the game the night of Munson's funeral was just the perfect message sent out to the fans..
When he signed on to be a Yankee broadcaster..nothing could get better....Bobby was back with us....He was home.
I was lucky enough to meet Bobby Murcer, once in High School...and at Bobby Murcer Day in 1983..and of late only two years ago at a signing at one of the Malls in New Jersey.at that time he signed my program from that Bobby Murcer Day and took a picture with me..joking with everyone "boy if I were only 15 years younger"...well I was still that little girl turning red in the face even in my 40's...
No one is better than Bobby Murcer in my book...and I will pray for him and his family that he comes through this just like the champion he has always been not just in my eyes but in the eyes of all the Yankee fans.
Bobby you are the ultimate Yankee!!!!
God bless you - Bobby.
PS: and I know Thurman Munson is looking down watching over you today and will be with you every step of the way...
Good luck Bobby, love bh
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I can still see many of the back page headlines and photo's of Bobby in the Daily News that were tacked to my bedroom wall as a child. I had Bobby's batting stance mimicked to the "T". I believe Bobby hit four consecutive home runs in the span of two games? Maybe I remember more of the talk then the deed. He was part of the first super star trade ever made. Bobby for Bobby, Murcer for Bonds. It broke my heart. I was shocked.
I 'm shocked once again. My heart fell to my feet when I read the news of his malignant tumor. I will pray for your speedy recovery Bobby Murcer.
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It has to be of some comfort for Bobby to see all the people who have signed in and are pulling for his full recovery. Bobby Murcer was and is my hero. Its OK for a man of 49 to have a hero, because Bobby Murcer brings back those great memoriess of care free innocense of our youth and growing up listening to baseball games on radios, with our Dads and family members. Life was much simpler then in the 60's and 70's or so it seemed to young teenagers. Bobby has always been a clutch performer, when the game was on the line, he was the guy we always wanted up at the plate. Well he came through more often than not, and now its our turn to come through for him. If prayers and good wishes can pull anybody through an ordeal like this, let's hope the thousands of Bobby Murcer fans can help him win this biggest of all games. The world is a better place becasue eof people like Bobby Murcer, we need to hold on to him as longa s we possibly can. Keep swinging Bobby and together lets get one more game winning hit. Baseball fans everywhere, please send your prayers and wishes to a great baseball player, but an even better man.
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It is difficult today to appreciate what a good player Bobby Murcer was in the context of his own time. In some ways he was a lot like Bernie Williams. He did everything well but, like Bernie, he didn't hit 40 home runs a year, and so was underestimated by the press and fans alike, who have always overvalued home runs and RBIs to the detriment of everything else it takes to win a ballgame.
It was my pleasure to see Bobby play many times when I was a kid, and the first word that comes to mind when I think of his game is "smart." He wasn't a mass of beef like many of our current power hitters but, like Don Mattingly and Bill Dickey, he figured out that he could generate good power by pulling the ball into Yankee Stadium's short right field porch.
That being said, he was never a dead pull hitter, but would always go the other way if the pitch or the game situation called for it. Want an example? The famous game after Munsons' death in which Bobby drove in all 5 runs. His home run came on a high inside curve and Bobby tomahawked it deep into the right field seats. In the 9th he seemed to know he wasn't going to see one of those again and he looked for one on the outside corner, got it, and lined it into left. Part of being a smart hitter is being willing to take a walk, and because of this Bobby left the game with a very good lifeime OBA. It is hard to put Murcer's career in perspective now, because the game has become so distorted in favor of hitters. Lots of guys who look like really good players today would have hit .260 with 12 hrs. and 55 rbi's (.300 OBA) in the 1960's and 70's.
Lastly, Bobby was and will always be a great guy. Can you imagine him sulking, preening himself, or blowing his horn like some of our modern stars? No, like his friend and teammate Roy White, he was a team player and a gentleman - a species that has nearly gone extinct these days. I wish him a complete recovery and send many prayers for him and his family!
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It's hard to put in words what I feel. I pray for a complete recovery for a very special man. I was lucky enough to meet him a couple of times as a child and attend several Yankee games, they are very special memories. As many have said, as we got older and learned more about him as a man, he only blessed us more. There are so few players that are as special as him. I remember the game after Thurmans'funeral and still have that article - what a true friend and example of a true sportsman. God bless.
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For a long time I have told baseball fans and my kids that Bobby Murcer was the last real baseball player. It was still a game and you got paid to have fun. No steroids and nautilus equipment was just beginning to be used. He took the trade. George promised he'd get him back and he did his time. He came back after his peak without his shot to have played on the team that broke Boston in the one game playoff. A sin or not for Gabe Paul that was baseball. He took the trade the old way. Many of todays players seem to be pure mercenaries enabled by their agents and the players union. How many rumbles are there at third base or home plate? He was definitly the last real ballplayer. Good times.
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I grew up in the 50's during the golden years of the yankees when every year except 54& 59 the yanks took at lest the pennant. I remember when Bobby murcer was groomed to take over for the Mick at the time I thought it was heresy. Bobby Murcer proved me wrong and became the most classy yankee of all a real gem. May God look after him and return his health to him. God bless you Bobby Murcer.
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Bobby Mercer has been the classiest "COLOR" commentator for the Yankees. I enjoyed the stories about his days playing. He took a lot of kidding about his concern for how his hair looked! May he have all the strength needed to win this battle!
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Bobby Murcer's number one fan is in Chicago. There is one here who did not want to see him go. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, I watched Bobby Murcer play for the Cubs on WGN every summer day. He just appealed to me. He had such a cool about him. When he was traded back to the Yanks I cried until I heard how happy he was. Then I was happy too. I cried when he won the Monday Night baseball game in honor of Munson, who he had seen buried that day. I just loved the guy. Fast forward to 1993. My twins decide to come into the world on May 20th, Bobby's birthday!! How eerie but cool. I am still in Chicago wishing I could have seen Bobby broadcast Yankees game. My one highlight a few summers ago while watching the crappy Cubs was Murcer singing the 7th inning stretch. I loved #7 (Cubs #). I hated Jody Davis just because he took that number after Murcer left. May God heal Bobby Murcer and his family. May Bobby never lose his sense of humor no matter what God hands him. I still pray for the day I will shake my hero's hand.
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A lifelong Yankee fan from Manhattan I was so sorry to heard about Bobby's illness.Opening day a few hrs. ago showed not only how much he is loved but also how many really good people there are in this world. Proud to be an American, proud to be a Yankee fan and proud to be part of a tremendous group of people praying for his recovery. God bless you Bobby!
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I grew up in the Cleveland area and have always been an Indians fan. The first season I followed was 1970 when I was 9 y/o. Bobby Mercer was in my eyes a star player on one of our opponents. I had the happy opportunity to see him play against us in September of 1973.
Although I was never a direct fan of his because he was a Yankee, I liked him because he was left handed and a smaller guy like myself. I disliked the Yankees because they aquired what I thought of as our best players, Craig Nettles and Chris Chambliss.
I am deeply saddened by the news of Bobby Mercer's health! I am hopeful that he and his family can enjoy the time he is given until he joins Thurman Munson, and Catfish Hunter. The blogs prior to mine explain to me why baseball is so special!
Sincerely,
Norman
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