Quick Tom Seaver story. In the late ‘90s when I was covering the Mets he came back to the team to be an announcer and instructor. I was a professional-type baseball writer, but this was still my childhood hero, so I was excited. 1 https://twitter.com/TJQuinnESPN/status/1301315762368503818

He arrived late. And then he rode around in the back of a golf cart like Caesar. Frankly, I thought my hero looked like kind of a jerk. At the end of the day we were waiting to talk to him. And waiting. I said to @MikeVacc, “I don’t care who he is, I’m going to rip him.” 2

He finally showed up. He apologized for making us wait. He was charming. I was still sour. And then I said something-I have no idea what-that cracked him up. Really cracked him up. And suddenly I was 10 again. Vac leaned in and whispered “that was awesome.” I blushed. “I know.” 3

I was about 30 and he was still every bit my hero and it was wonderful to still feel that way. As I got to know him over the years I only came to like him more. I’d find excuses to call him and he’d tell me fantastic stories and he never lost his magic. 4

He said to me once, “Did I ever tell you about the dinner I organize at Cooperstown every year?” I said, no, Tom. “It’s me, Sandy Koufax, Bob Gibson, Gaylord Perry and Warren Spahn.” I said something cool like “jeepers.” 5

Tom said, “Sandy and Gibby are the only ones without 300 wins. You know what we call them?” No, Tom. “Our fourth and fifth starters.” And we both roared. Then I called my father and everyone I knew to repeat it. 6

Thanks, Tom, for being the biggest thing in my world when I was a kid. Thanks for making me proud to have the name “Thomas” and for all the imaginary games in the backyard when I got my knee dirty striking out the Orioles in the 9th. 7

And thanks for making me feel like a kid throughout my 30s and 40s and making me feel like I belonged.