Keith Hernandez officially made shocking story about Willie Mays after his death

Keith Hernandez is paying tribute to Willie Mays with deep emotion. Mays is widely celebrated as one of the greatest baseball players of all time, and Hernandez, who is also a revered player, likely feels a profound sense of loss. When someone as influential and legendary as Mays passes away, it touches many people in the baseball community deeply.

The mention of “700 worlds” might be a bit confusing. It could be a typo or a misinterpretation of Hernandez’s words. If you’re referring to a specific quote or context, could you provide more details?

Ihave always wondered how I would react to the death of Willie Mays.

Now I know. Numbness, acknowledging that a part of you, part of your youth is gone, never to be reclaimed. Mays died Tuesday. I received word from alerts with some seeking comment wanting to put Mays in context and in perspective.

All I knew was that a bit of springtime had died.

Mays was my introduction to baseball, my introduction to my favorite team of all time: the San Francisco Giants of the mid-1960s. Those were the Giants of first baseman Orlando Cepeda and pitcher Juan Marichal.

Mays was also part of my continuing introduction to Black style as introduced to mainstream America by Black sports stars. The basket catch was and is one of the coolest innovations in sports, along with Muhammad Ali’s shuffle, Earl “The Pearl” Monroe’s spin move, Julius “Dr. J” Erving’s flying-from-the-foul-line Afro-blowing dunk. Mays’ basket catch was part of a revolution in mainstream sports — the birth of the cool in sports.

New York Giants outfielder Willie Mays makes the over-the-shoulder grab called “The Catch,” considered one of the most spectacular plays in World Series history, in the eighth inning of Game 1 against the Cleveland Indians in 1954.

Bettmann

When I think of Mays, I think about growing up in the little hamlet of Phoenix, Illinois, and watching the Giants teams on black-and-white TV. The moment fixed in time was how he once robbed the Chicago Cubs third baseman Ron Santo of an extra-base hit. Santo hit a deep fly ball in the gap between right and center field. In another place, another time — against another center fielder — Santo could have expected an extra-base hit. But Mays ever so coolly glided over, ran the ball down, made the catch and made it look easy. He flipped his shades back and coolly walked back to center field.

Cool.