A few months ago, I tweeted that nothing can make you feel older than when your childhood baseball heroes die.
I was wrong.
Nothing can make you feel older than when your adult baseball heroes die.
Tony Gwynn, the greatest hitter of his generation, died today. He was 54.
When he was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame (along with Cal Ripken), he appeared on the ballots of 532 of 545 writers, which just goes to show you how incompetent 13 baseball writers can be.
Gwynn was known for more than his hitting; he was known for his decency, especially at a time when baseball’s stars were shooting themselves up with steroids to cheat.
Gwynn died of cancer. He got it from a baseball tradition — chewing tobacco.