
The passing of baseball legend Willie Mays on Tuesday stirred up some old personal memories and reminded me how important it is to keep the folklore and history of sports alive for generations to come. In regard to the latter, local sports halls of fame like the new Lowndes County Sports Hall of Fame may play a more important role in preserving the stories and people in sports than the big national shrines in Cooperstown, New York (baseball), Canton, Ohio (football) or Springfield, Massachusetts (basketball).
My first awareness of Willie Mays came when I was about 5-years-old. It was mostly a case of mistaken identity.
This would have been around 1964. I was a budding Yankees fan then, and Mickey Mantle was my favorite player (my brother, Mick was born in 1954 and named for the Yankees’ slugger).
I heard plenty about Mays, who as a Giant had my grudging respect, but certainly not my affection since the hot topic of the day was whether Mays or Mantle was the best player in the game.
But there was one thing that weighed in Mays’ favor: a local connection.
My mom worked at Long’s Laundry in Tupelo as a presser, probably the worst job you could have in the laundry. She sometimes spoke of a co-worker in misery by the name of Willie May.
Five-year-old me was impressed that Willie Mays played baseball and worked at Long’s, but I kept it to myself until one day, it occurred to me that my fondness of the Yankees and Mickey Mantle didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate players from other teams.
So I asked mom if she could get me Willie May’s autograph.
She looked at me with a puzzled expression for a moment, then burst out laughing. I didn’t know why she was laughing. Anyway, a few days later we were picking up my mom from work after her shift, and she approached the car with a middle-aged Black woman.
She leaned into the window into the back seat, smiled at me and said, “I’m Willie May. I hear you want my autograph!”
Willie Mays will never be forgotten and thanks to him, neither is Willie May, at least not yet.
That’s one of the great things about sports, I think. It has a way of conjuring up memories that sometimes have little to do with the memorable plays, players and games. They are often backdrops of something more personal. They transport us back in time and bring to memory all sorts of things.
The great players on the national and international landscape are captured and preserved in photos and film. That is how I “remember” Mays’ legendary sprinting, over-the-shoulder catch in the cavernous Polo Grounds in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series, even though it came five years before I was born.
But local sports folklore exists mostly in the memories of those who witnessed it and when those eyewitnesses are gone, there is little left to preserve it.
That’s why local sports halls of fame are so important. They record for posterity what the erosive nature of time might otherwise take from us.
The Lowndes County Sports Hall of Fame will induct its inaugural members next spring. In the meantime, the organization is soliciting nominations for the athletes, coaches and teams that will be enshrined into the hall of fame. Although a committee will determine the inductees, everyone can play a role through the nomination process. Because so much of local sports history is not accessible, those who were eyewitnesses are of critical importance. You don’t have to be a sports expert. You just have to have a memory of a player, coach or game worthy of remembering. Who knows? You may be the only one who can still recall that detail.
So take some time, search your memory and make your nominations by visiting the organization’s website: lowndescountysportshalloffame.com/nominate/.
Slim Smith is a columnist and feature writer for The Dispatch. His email address is [email protected].
Slim Smith is a columnist and feature writer for The Dispatch. His email address is [email protected].
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