Tuesday, March 07, 2006

34

One day, shortly after my father was arrested, a friend of my brother's gave me a paper cutout of a baseball. She asked Kirby Puckett to sign it for me. His son was in her elementary school class. She was told not to ask for autographs, but she knew I wanted one, so she asked, and he obliged. She made the autograph into a little baseball cutout, and gave it to me.

I'm looking at it right now. The "Y" sweeping into the "K". The "P" encompassing the "UC" in his last name, the "T" grazing the rest.

Of his 44 years on this earth, he spent some portion making this lonely, sad, little boy happy during his greatest period of struggle.

It makes me so, so sad.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Sarah said...

I, too am saddened. Kirby's daughter Catherine Puckett was a pupil at Breck School for a time when I worked there. She was only 5 when I assisted the summer programs in 1996.

Kirby was one of my favorite Twins. At every game I highly anticipated the annoucement of his name. "Number 34- Kirrrrrbyyyyyyy Puckettttt!"

11:41 AM  

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