"Puck"
I had to take a few days to think about this post, and talk about my friend Kirby Puckett. Like most men/boys who came of age in the 80's. Kirby Pucketts name meant baseball and the Minnesota Twins. As a young man who had grown up in Minnesota and who was born the same year that the Twins moved from Washington DC to Bloomington. I was and still am a Twins fan. I remember sitting at my grandpa Gherkes, in Stewart, watching Halsey Hall, do the broadcasts and the Hamm's Beer commercials and the "Killer", George Mitterwald, Phil Roof, Tony Oliva, Ceasar Tovar, Rod Carew and the like. I grew to intensely dislike Calvin Griffith for allowing my favorites to move on to other teams because of his tight fisted ways. I still remember how hurt I was when Calvin would not sign Harmon to his last one year deal. To see Harmon Killabrew in a Royals uniform was humiliating to me! I was just a teenager, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
Every Fourth of July I went with Elroy and Mark and Al and Jon to Bat Day, at the Met, But not after that season. My heart was broken. I was busy enough by then, Sports, working the summers, Picking Peas. Those long, long hours on the tractor at night, just me and the crew and the skeeters. I found myself drawn back into baseball, listening to Herb Carneal and the Twins, and then the late night KMOX, and the Cardinals games on the left coast. I found myself lost in the Mike Cubbage, Bombo Rivera Twins, losers that they were. You took each victory to heart and just shook your head at each defeat. There were many defeats. Soon, I was in school and girls and work in the cities. I took in more games, sitting in the cheap, shitty seats up in right field stands. Where if a fly ball was hit to right, you had to wait for fan reaction to know if the ball was caught or not. (it's still that way today) I lived through the sad 100 loss seasons of the early 80's. Then, I saw what was the start of the turnaround. I watched as Herbie, The Rat, Bruno (little bingo), Frankie V, Gags, Lauds and the rest came together. Then came the missing piece to the puzzle. The stubby legs the smile and the swing of Kirby Puckett. The swing, it was remarkable. Puck had remarkable eyesight and hand eye coordination. It did not seem to matter as to where the ball was thrown. Low, High, inside or out, his big ass bat could find it. He swung a mighty big bat. Much larger than I ever did or would have. I watched as the Twins actually contended in 85, only to blow a 10-0 lead at Cleveland on the last weekend of the season to fall out of the race. 86 was a fiasco for the team as they were expected to contend but fell to last place.
In 1986 some thing happened to me that led to my friendship with the man. In 1986 I was working at Burger Brothers Sporting Goods in Edina and one day a guy named Tim who was from Iowa came in and talked fishing. He lamented as to how his job left him little time to go fishing and he wished he had more time to go. I offered him a chance to go out to Minnetonka for a short outing and he accepted. Tim met me at the Wayzata ramp and we went Bass fishing for a few hours as he had to be at work at 1pm. When we went back to the ramp, he thanked me for taking him, and as he helped load the Lund. I asked him where he worked as he had to report for 2nd shift, was he a machinist at a local manufacture? He laughed and told me was the catcher for the Twins!! Damn! That was the start.
In 1987 I went to Guide in Alaska, for Bristol Bay Lodge. During the Season Tim and various members of the Twins sent me letters about their season. Stories of cities and games and players and movies and plane rides from hell. I mailed them letters back, stories about Fish, and Bears and Boat rides from hell. Fishermen, good and poor, famous and not. I listened to armed forces radio to the all star game, the only one Tim Laudner played in. (he doubled) while I was on the Nushagak at the King Salmon Spike Camp. I sent them a box of Salmon delivered to the clubhouse by a lodge guest from Minnetonka. They sent me Team pennants to decorate my camp.
I flew home from Alaska the day that The Twins started the playoffs vs. the Tigers. It was a memorable week. I returned home to find my girlfriend of 6 years, had taken up with her photographer or hairdresser (or both) After receiving stacks of letters right up to the last week from her. Wham, That kind of threw me for a loop. (my friends all told me that she was to good looking for me anyways) Thanks to Smitty, the Twins and one month of Goose hunting at Lac Que Parle, I survived. (I purged a lot of rage, pulling the trigger on geese)
Smitty and I rented a Hotel Room in Montevideo so we could watch Game 7. Smitty fell asleep! I screamed when Gags scored, and took a late night hot tub and sauna after the game and cried alone, tears of joy.
I started working for Orvis in the conservatory in downtown Minneapolis that fall after duck hunting ended. It was there that I met Dick Martin. For those who have never met Dick, well he is about the nicest man you could ever meet, ever. Dick was the Trainer for the Twins for many years. About 30 some. He was/is also a fishing Guide in the off season in Melbourne Florida. He is a very good fly fisherman. Since the Orvis store was just a few blocks from the dome, Dick came in quite a bit and we became friends. He would have a ticket set aside for me from time to time, and I went to a lot of games.
After the 1988 Alaskan season, I moved to Florida for a while to get warm and fish some different water. I went to Spring Training and saw Tim and Dick. I accepted an offer from Orvis to manage a shop in Chagrin Falls Ohio. When the Twins came to town to play the Indians I was there and I saw Tim during pre-game. Surprised the heck out of him and watched the game.
When the Twins came back into town later that summer I called Dick to see if he wanted to come out to the Pine Lake Fly Club, where I also managed a small fly fishing pro shop, during their off day. Their off day was a Monday and as the club was closed on Mondays, I told them it would be a perfect time, as it would be quiet and to one but me and the grounds crew would be around to hassle any player who wanted to come along.
It was a rainy Monday morning when the rental car pulled in and Dick, Doug Nelson assistant trainer, Kent Hrbck and Kirby Puckett stepped out. Holy Shit!! They caught many, many Trout. Dick helped out Doug, Herbie needed no help, and took off on his own. But Puck, he was hopeless with a fly rod, so I gave him a spinning rod and he was hopeless with that also. So I got him Spin casting rig armed with a little Mepps, he went to work. He caught some trees and he caught some rocks, he even caught a fence. He also caught some Trout! I spent most of the day giving him a hand on the water. We talked a lot, I’ve been known to be quite talkative. I was not even close to being able to keep up with Puck. We talked about growing up, him in Chicago, me in Gaylord. We talked about our families, his large, mine medium. Our parents. Minnesota, fishing, and baseball. Lots of things. I noticed that I was taking all of his fish off the hook, and it was time for him to pick up the slack. I showed him how to hold the fish and remove the hook. I gave him my forceps, and left to see how the others were faring. When I came back, Puck was not wearing his shirt? What the? Here it turns out that he was not enjoying holding the fish, and when he caught one, he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the fish to hold it and then removed the hook! Unwrapped the fish and put it back in the water! Since his shirt was wet and covered in fish slime, he did not want to put it back on. We walked back to the shop and I got him a new shirt. The ground crew still remembers the sight of the half naked Puck, strolling around the Pine Lake club fishing away, laughing and smiling having a good old time. When they left Herbie and Puck signed and posed for the crew. Puck told me later that it was his first time he ever went fishing. He always thanked me for it. I always told him that It was my pleasure. I will never forget the day I met Kirby Puckett.
In the years that followed I was fortunate to hang out with Kirby at his home in Edina, where we played pool and shot hoops, and enjoyed a beer or 2. We talked to each other on the phone, and hung out with our mutual friends. Randy Angel and Joe Rassat.
Kirby was one of the most fun guys I’ve ever had the privilege to hang with, and everyone who ever met him, I suspect would say the same. I am proud to be able to say that Puck was a friend of mine. It hurts my heart knowing I will not be hearing his hysterical cackle of a laugh or see his smile. Nor, will we be able to drink a beer while relaxing in a boat. But, I will always remember our friendship.
Many of you, who are my friends have been with me in the clubhouse and met Kirby, he always treated my friends as his. I am happy with those memories the most. Puck and my Dad and Tom Kelly talking baseball, in the Twins Clubhouse will always be a stunning memory of mine. Being able to introduce my uncle Noel Phifer to Kirby is another. All of my friends who made the trip down the tunnel, deep with-in the Metro Dome, know how excited he was to show the picture of me, Puck kept in his locker, and how proud I was for it to be there. He was one of a kind. I will miss him. Every time I crawl into the boat and turn on the game I will think of him. God Bless you Puck.
You know, Puck man, I love you man!
I had to take a few days to think about this post, and talk about my friend Kirby Puckett. Like most men/boys who came of age in the 80's. Kirby Pucketts name meant baseball and the Minnesota Twins. As a young man who had grown up in Minnesota and who was born the same year that the Twins moved from Washington DC to Bloomington. I was and still am a Twins fan. I remember sitting at my grandpa Gherkes, in Stewart, watching Halsey Hall, do the broadcasts and the Hamm's Beer commercials and the "Killer", George Mitterwald, Phil Roof, Tony Oliva, Ceasar Tovar, Rod Carew and the like. I grew to intensely dislike Calvin Griffith for allowing my favorites to move on to other teams because of his tight fisted ways. I still remember how hurt I was when Calvin would not sign Harmon to his last one year deal. To see Harmon Killabrew in a Royals uniform was humiliating to me! I was just a teenager, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
Every Fourth of July I went with Elroy and Mark and Al and Jon to Bat Day, at the Met, But not after that season. My heart was broken. I was busy enough by then, Sports, working the summers, Picking Peas. Those long, long hours on the tractor at night, just me and the crew and the skeeters. I found myself drawn back into baseball, listening to Herb Carneal and the Twins, and then the late night KMOX, and the Cardinals games on the left coast. I found myself lost in the Mike Cubbage, Bombo Rivera Twins, losers that they were. You took each victory to heart and just shook your head at each defeat. There were many defeats. Soon, I was in school and girls and work in the cities. I took in more games, sitting in the cheap, shitty seats up in right field stands. Where if a fly ball was hit to right, you had to wait for fan reaction to know if the ball was caught or not. (it's still that way today) I lived through the sad 100 loss seasons of the early 80's. Then, I saw what was the start of the turnaround. I watched as Herbie, The Rat, Bruno (little bingo), Frankie V, Gags, Lauds and the rest came together. Then came the missing piece to the puzzle. The stubby legs the smile and the swing of Kirby Puckett. The swing, it was remarkable. Puck had remarkable eyesight and hand eye coordination. It did not seem to matter as to where the ball was thrown. Low, High, inside or out, his big ass bat could find it. He swung a mighty big bat. Much larger than I ever did or would have. I watched as the Twins actually contended in 85, only to blow a 10-0 lead at Cleveland on the last weekend of the season to fall out of the race. 86 was a fiasco for the team as they were expected to contend but fell to last place.
In 1986 some thing happened to me that led to my friendship with the man. In 1986 I was working at Burger Brothers Sporting Goods in Edina and one day a guy named Tim who was from Iowa came in and talked fishing. He lamented as to how his job left him little time to go fishing and he wished he had more time to go. I offered him a chance to go out to Minnetonka for a short outing and he accepted. Tim met me at the Wayzata ramp and we went Bass fishing for a few hours as he had to be at work at 1pm. When we went back to the ramp, he thanked me for taking him, and as he helped load the Lund. I asked him where he worked as he had to report for 2nd shift, was he a machinist at a local manufacture? He laughed and told me was the catcher for the Twins!! Damn! That was the start.
In 1987 I went to Guide in Alaska, for Bristol Bay Lodge. During the Season Tim and various members of the Twins sent me letters about their season. Stories of cities and games and players and movies and plane rides from hell. I mailed them letters back, stories about Fish, and Bears and Boat rides from hell. Fishermen, good and poor, famous and not. I listened to armed forces radio to the all star game, the only one Tim Laudner played in. (he doubled) while I was on the Nushagak at the King Salmon Spike Camp. I sent them a box of Salmon delivered to the clubhouse by a lodge guest from Minnetonka. They sent me Team pennants to decorate my camp.
I flew home from Alaska the day that The Twins started the playoffs vs. the Tigers. It was a memorable week. I returned home to find my girlfriend of 6 years, had taken up with her photographer or hairdresser (or both) After receiving stacks of letters right up to the last week from her. Wham, That kind of threw me for a loop. (my friends all told me that she was to good looking for me anyways) Thanks to Smitty, the Twins and one month of Goose hunting at Lac Que Parle, I survived. (I purged a lot of rage, pulling the trigger on geese)
Smitty and I rented a Hotel Room in Montevideo so we could watch Game 7. Smitty fell asleep! I screamed when Gags scored, and took a late night hot tub and sauna after the game and cried alone, tears of joy.
I started working for Orvis in the conservatory in downtown Minneapolis that fall after duck hunting ended. It was there that I met Dick Martin. For those who have never met Dick, well he is about the nicest man you could ever meet, ever. Dick was the Trainer for the Twins for many years. About 30 some. He was/is also a fishing Guide in the off season in Melbourne Florida. He is a very good fly fisherman. Since the Orvis store was just a few blocks from the dome, Dick came in quite a bit and we became friends. He would have a ticket set aside for me from time to time, and I went to a lot of games.
After the 1988 Alaskan season, I moved to Florida for a while to get warm and fish some different water. I went to Spring Training and saw Tim and Dick. I accepted an offer from Orvis to manage a shop in Chagrin Falls Ohio. When the Twins came to town to play the Indians I was there and I saw Tim during pre-game. Surprised the heck out of him and watched the game.
When the Twins came back into town later that summer I called Dick to see if he wanted to come out to the Pine Lake Fly Club, where I also managed a small fly fishing pro shop, during their off day. Their off day was a Monday and as the club was closed on Mondays, I told them it would be a perfect time, as it would be quiet and to one but me and the grounds crew would be around to hassle any player who wanted to come along.
It was a rainy Monday morning when the rental car pulled in and Dick, Doug Nelson assistant trainer, Kent Hrbck and Kirby Puckett stepped out. Holy Shit!! They caught many, many Trout. Dick helped out Doug, Herbie needed no help, and took off on his own. But Puck, he was hopeless with a fly rod, so I gave him a spinning rod and he was hopeless with that also. So I got him Spin casting rig armed with a little Mepps, he went to work. He caught some trees and he caught some rocks, he even caught a fence. He also caught some Trout! I spent most of the day giving him a hand on the water. We talked a lot, I’ve been known to be quite talkative. I was not even close to being able to keep up with Puck. We talked about growing up, him in Chicago, me in Gaylord. We talked about our families, his large, mine medium. Our parents. Minnesota, fishing, and baseball. Lots of things. I noticed that I was taking all of his fish off the hook, and it was time for him to pick up the slack. I showed him how to hold the fish and remove the hook. I gave him my forceps, and left to see how the others were faring. When I came back, Puck was not wearing his shirt? What the? Here it turns out that he was not enjoying holding the fish, and when he caught one, he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the fish to hold it and then removed the hook! Unwrapped the fish and put it back in the water! Since his shirt was wet and covered in fish slime, he did not want to put it back on. We walked back to the shop and I got him a new shirt. The ground crew still remembers the sight of the half naked Puck, strolling around the Pine Lake club fishing away, laughing and smiling having a good old time. When they left Herbie and Puck signed and posed for the crew. Puck told me later that it was his first time he ever went fishing. He always thanked me for it. I always told him that It was my pleasure. I will never forget the day I met Kirby Puckett.
In the years that followed I was fortunate to hang out with Kirby at his home in Edina, where we played pool and shot hoops, and enjoyed a beer or 2. We talked to each other on the phone, and hung out with our mutual friends. Randy Angel and Joe Rassat.
Kirby was one of the most fun guys I’ve ever had the privilege to hang with, and everyone who ever met him, I suspect would say the same. I am proud to be able to say that Puck was a friend of mine. It hurts my heart knowing I will not be hearing his hysterical cackle of a laugh or see his smile. Nor, will we be able to drink a beer while relaxing in a boat. But, I will always remember our friendship.
Many of you, who are my friends have been with me in the clubhouse and met Kirby, he always treated my friends as his. I am happy with those memories the most. Puck and my Dad and Tom Kelly talking baseball, in the Twins Clubhouse will always be a stunning memory of mine. Being able to introduce my uncle Noel Phifer to Kirby is another. All of my friends who made the trip down the tunnel, deep with-in the Metro Dome, know how excited he was to show the picture of me, Puck kept in his locker, and how proud I was for it to be there. He was one of a kind. I will miss him. Every time I crawl into the boat and turn on the game I will think of him. God Bless you Puck.
You know, Puck man, I love you man!
posted by Spike | 2:22 PM
1 Comments:
Goes to show how much I visit your blog, glad to see you got a tribute in. Hopefully you will be up and blogging again soon.
Dave
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