I was 5 years old when I went to the Metrodome for the first time. I wasn't old enough to understand what exactly it was I was watching or who was playing. I had a hot dog bigger than my face and the soda to match. I fell in love with baseball that day, not knowing it until later.

Two years later, at the ripe old age of 7, my father came into town to take
Travis and I back to the Dome for a nooner against the Yankees. At this point I've got two years playing experience under my belt and I'm just starting to understand my love affair with the game. Yeah, we were indoors and it was 80 degrees out, but whatever--the Twins were playing and I was there so Bob Casey could tell me that there was noooooo smoking in the Dome. At age 7 in 1987, this was as good as it got.

The Twins were the Twins, but whenever Kirby Puckett was on the field, you knew he was The Twins. You hear the same testimonies all the time from all the players who played with and against him: Infectious smile, unparallelled passion for the game, could lighten the mood at a funeral. To a 7 year old kid, all those qualities were apparent. He just loved to play the game and it was so obvious that we began to take it for granted. I wanted to be Kirby Puckett. I wore his number when I played for the Pirates in the BAC. I crossed my chest each trip to the plate and I'm not Catholic. I kicked my leg high and struck out a ton of times. I slid for Kirby, I dove for Kirby, I played the game for Kirby.

October 26, 1991 is the actual date the Minnesota Twins won the World Series. If you look it up, Game 7 officially took place on October 27, 1991, but that game was really just a formality (although it should go down as one of the Top Five World Series Games of All Time--TFWSGAT). If anybody thought that after what Puck did in Game 6--the first-inning triple, The Catch, The Walk-Off--the Twins would then drop Game 7, at home, to the loudest fans in Baseball, then they just weren't paying attention. The Braves put up a hell of a fight, and John Smoltz's pitching performance will go down in the all-time annals, but Kirby Puckett and his Minnesota Twins had built a momentum unseen in this state. It was Happening.

I remember exactly where I was when he hit The Walk-Off. We had a townhouse in Burnsville, and it was fast-approaching my birthday. We had a French exchange student living with us at the time, and she gave me my birthday present--Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch's "Good Vibrations" tape, and my first fitted Twins hat, which suspiciously smelled like fish--but that's neither here nor there. I was so excited about my hat and my tape that through the first 3 innings we listened to "Good Vibrations" about 15 times. Between that and a new cap, I thought there was no way my Twins would lose that night. At age 11 I thought I was not only ready for a tattoo, but that the tattoo should recreate the magic that was The Catch.

Kirby Puckett taught me that sports were good, and that they should be played hard and always be given your best. He also taught me that this approach should carry over into everyday life. The Game of Baseball will miss Puck, the State of Minnesota will miss Puck, and I will miss Puck. We'll See Ya Tomorrow Night.