I am a bit young to have seen Bob Gibson pitch. But his 1968 season loomed over the baseball of my youth like Mt. Rainier over Seattle. A 1.12 ERA. A season so good that it was the final straw before baseball lowered the mound. And a World Series performance 52 years to the date before his death. By all accounts a fierce competitor, and also dedicated to the civil right movement, his righteous anger in 1968 channeled in his pitching. I wish I had seen him in his prime, but will have to be content with the stories and the grainy film. RIP, Gibbie.
Boy, it’s still busy. But the WNBA finals are done – congrats to Breanna and Bird and the Seattle Storm! – and the NBA finals look close to done. So it’s a bit less overwhelming as we focus on the baseball playoffs in neutral sites and NFL and college football, assuming there aren’t more Covid interruptions (and I am pretty sure there will be). And the French Open is nearing its end. Plus there was the NHL draft.
As ever, all sports subjects are welcome.