Letters to the Editor: Willie Mays, the greatest baseball player ever and a class act in person

To the editor: April 17, 1968, was one day at Shea Stadium in New York that I will never forget. All one had to do was see Willie Mays play to know he was a special talent, the best of his time. (“Willie Mays, known for ‘The Catch’ and by many as baseball’s best of the best, dies at 93,” June 18)

That brisk day, two friends and I hung out at the stadium after the Mets’ game against Mays’ San Francisco Giants. I don’t even remember who won, but what I definitely do remember is seeing Mays coming out of the press gate with a pack of kids trailing him as he headed to his pink Lincoln Continental, signing autographs all along the way.

Luckily, the traffic leaving the parking lot prevented Mays’ car from exiting quickly. I waited patiently, and he continued to sign at his window for the group of us that had followed alongside his car. For me, that signature was gold.

When I got back to my friends and told them I got Mays’ autograph, they immediately took off, hunting down the pink Continental.

Mays still had an effect on me right into adulthood. When Reggie Jackson had a plaque dedicated to him at Yankee Stadium in 2002, he asked for and received Mays as one of his personal guests for the event.

Working at the ballpark, I had a souvenir stand in the upper deck that day, but I wasn’t aware Mays was going to be attending. When I heard Mays’ name over the loudspeaker, I ran straight out to the stands to see the great one again. I left my souvenirs completely unattended, thousands of dollars’ worth of stock vulnerable to theft. Just the mention of his name on the loudspeaker had me reacting like a kid again.

Stewart Zully, Los Angeles

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To the editor: Some years ago, I was traveling to San Francisco from Palm Springs International Airport. As I waited for boarding, a woman pushing a wheelchair parked beside my seat. Willie Mays was in the wheelchair.

I sat quietly, respecting his privacy as one man after another came over to give the famous baseball player his recognition. He just nodded in thanks, until a boy about 10 approached him.

Amazingly, the two chatted for several minutes, exchanging baseball and Little League stories.

Finally, Mays asked the boy if he wanted an autograph. The boy smiled and said it would be the “best thing ever, Mr. Mays.” The jaws of everyone watching dropped.

Not one other person approached Mays during our wait to board the plane. It was an honor and a pleasure to sit next to him in silence and observe every minute of interaction that day.

Thank you, Mr. Mays.

Lin Conrad, Indio

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To the editor: I saw Mays play on numerous occasions, including the “tragic” year (for the Dodgers) of 1962. His ebullience, love of the game and skills were, in his prime, second to none.

I hated the Giants, but not Mays. When he would beat us, I just sighed and shook my head knowing this was greatness on the field.

Always a class act, it was an honor to watch him even though he played for our rival. There will never be another like him.

Scott Sewell, Marina del Rey