Cursing a death, celebrating a life

When news of a celebrity’s passing hits the news, there are different reactions. Hearing about Philip Seymour's instantaneous death, aged 46, on Super Bowl Sunday was certainly a shocker. And, given what we have found out about his demons, and probable cause of death, one can't help but think, what a waste of wonderful talent.

And that is not even taking into consideration three kids now have no father. This is bad enough, but they will go the rest of their lives knowing their dad died alone, in a bathroom, with a needle sticking in his arm.

I have no idea what can cause such anguish in anyone's life, especially one with as much success as Hoffman. I can't think of anyone else versatile and talented enough to have portrayed Oakland Athletic manager Art Howe (in “Moneyball”), Willy Loman (in a recent Broadway revival of “Death of a Salesman”) and Truman Capote. He deservedly won an Oscar for that latter role.

Yet, even with all that, the need for heroin was so strong, it apparently took over. He's not alone, of course. Smack has made a most unwelcome re-occurrence as the drug of choice for many over the past few years. Plus there appears to be a lethal batch making the rounds lately, some of which seems to have found its way to Hoffman's Greenwich Village apartment.

And, it's because of this all anyone seems to be focusing on how he died, instead of the successes of his career. Coverage has centered on his addiction, his rehab stint and his funeral. Whereas if he had died a natural death, at more advanced age, we would have instead been treated to tributes to a great acting career.

Yet, still, I'll say it again: what a waste.

Then came news a few days later of Ralph Kiner's death at age 91. And, what a wonderful 91 years it was. He was much more than a man who had a celebrated hall of fame baseball career with the Pittsburgh Pirates (and actually played a year with the Albany Senators, too, prior to going into the service.)

He is still the only player ever to lead his league in homers for seven consecutive years. Sixty years after playing his last game in Pittsburgh, Ralph continued to be an amazingly popular figure in the Steel City. As a lifelong Pirate fan, I this week treasured my 1953 Topps Kiner baseball card even more so than usual.

And, while he may not have actually ever said, “Home run hitters drive Cadillacs, singles hitters drive Fords,” it was always attributed to him. And, in his case, he got even more than luxury cars, as he dated several of Hollywood's finest, including Janet Leigh and Elizabeth Taylor.

Chicks dig the long ball, eh?

For most, this would have been a full life. Yet it was after all of this, when he perhaps became best known, because of his 50 years as a New York Mets broadcaster. In his early years, he was a solid play-by-play man, and also host of the popular “Kiner's Korner” post game show. In later years, even last summer, he told wonderful baseball tales from the booth.

And, as a result, almost every story which came out in the aftermath of his passing made one smile, if not laugh. A celebration of life, not a cursing over cause of death.

There were his malapropisms of course; what else would you expect from someone who worked with Casey Stengel?

He once, on Father's Day, wished all the dads in Shea Stadium a very “Happy Birthday.” Mets catcher Gary Carter became Gary Cooper, despite the fact the former had never appeared in “High Noon” nor played Lou Gehrig on film. Broadcast partner Tim McCarver became Tim MacArthur. Tim, to his credit, didn't miss a beat saying, “MacArthur once said, 'I shall return, and so will we, after this commercial.'”

There were the memorable quotes, such as “All of his saves have come in relief appearances,” “If Casey Stengel were alive today, he'd be spinning in his grave,” and “Solo homers usually come with no one on base.”

Who can argue with that?

My favorite, though occurred in a spring training game in 1993 between the Mets and Yankees. If you've ever been to one of those pre-season games, you know there are several substitutions made, and quite often the player coming in is some scrub who will never make it the big leagues. As such, keeping track of it in your scorecard can be almost impossible.

Sure enough, in this case, Ralph had no idea who the Yanks' new center fielder was. He looked at the scoreboard, and he was in luck though. It said, “John Fogerty, Center Field”

Ralph dutifully reported the change, blissfully unaware that the scoreboard announcement was merely noting which song had won the fan voting contest as to what music would be played the next inning, not who was in the 8 spot for the Yanks.

Wonder what he would have said if “Proud Mary” had been selected?

Rest easy, Ralph, or as you might have said, Happy Birthday.