My dad took me to my first ball game, a Yankee-Orioles game in the early 70's. I was about 9 years old. We had field level box seats behind the 3rd base coaches box. In the middle of batting practice, Murcer took a bucket of balls into the outfield and threw baseballs into the upper deck. The place went crazy. I thought it was the coolest thing I ever saw.

Later in the game, Murcer hit a foul ball right into our box. I had my hand on the ball. A large, older woman in the box next to us stepped right on my hand and started yelling "Its mine!!!!!!!" I let her have it.

I came to really dislike George Steinbreener, and, to the everlasting horror of my family, declared my allegiance to the Mets the winter after Thurman Munson died (#15-my all-time favorite ball player). Still, I always had a soft spot for Murcer. He was what the Yankees are supposed to be.....the class of the league. He may not have had the best stats, but he was all that a 9-year old be could ever hope to have in a sports hero.