When celebrities die, we’re sad, but not in a truly, truly sad way. It’s not like losing a relative. Sometimes, in fact, it’s more about gossip than remorse. A celeb dies, it’s something to talk about—his/her life, career, impact, triumphs, blunders.
Tonight, however, I’m truly sad. I loved Mark (The Bird) Fidrych. Really loved him. Never met the man, but I’m a fan of all athletes who refuse to take themselves overly seriously. This guy clearly had no ego; loved pitching and getting people excited. A true original.
About, oh, 20 years ago I bought the below poster at the Stormville Flea Market outside of Carmel, N.Y. I think it was 50 cents, and it’s followed me everywhere since. Because the frame broke, I had it tucked behind a couch in the office. When I learned Fidrych had passed, I pulled it out, and the wife and I looked him over. Such a goofy, lovable character. A real shame …
