The Bird

"That ball has a hit in it, so I want it to get back in the ball bag and goof around with the other balls in there. Maybe it'll learn some sense and come out as a pop-up next time." - Mark Fidrych (1976)

I was a huge fan of the Detroit Tigers in the mid 1970's. I listened to every game on my blue Panasonic Toot-a-Loop radio, even the spring training games. I look back fondly in my memory to the sounds of Ernie Harwell's distinct voice echoing out in my back yard, and I can still feel the crushing humidity of those hot summer days as I listened with incredible concentration to each and every play.

There was the fading glory of the 1968 World Series win still in evidence as the last few players of that team slowly declined into retirement: Mickey Stanley, John Hiller, Bill Freehan, Mickey Lolich. These were the giants of the past, but we needed someone young to re-energize this crumbling team.

And then came The Bird.

Mark Fidrych was brash and loaded with both personality and talent. He loved the crowd, and they loved him. He talked to the baseball. He literally couldn't stand still on the mound, shuffling around and playing with the dirt constantly. He was tall and had gold curly hair, like that Big Bird who gave him his nickname.

And he threw strikes. Lots of them. I remember him striking out Yaz at Fenway, a very rare thing, and that's when I knew he was good. He threw almost every pitch low, right at the bottom of the strike zone at knee-level - an unheard of strategy in those days, but very common now because if you can pull off that kind of accuracy, your pitches are almost impossible to hit.

He went on to finish 1976 with 19 wins and walked away with the Rookie of the Year award, and he got the whole nation's attention. He was the lone bright spot in an otherwise dismal era for the Tigers.

...

The Bird was working under his 10-wheeled truck yesterday when a jack apparently slipped and he was crushed to death. The cliché is that he was too young, and of course that's true enough. But for me this closes an era of my life that I really wanted to keep alive for a while longer. It's always good knowing someone who had an impact on you in your youth is still out there, somewhere, keeping it real. In that respect, this is one more chapter closed.