If you hit a home run, you didn’t stand in the batter’s box and admire the flight of the ball. You put your head down. You quickly ran the bases. You shook hands. You sat in the dugout. Mays did all that. He played the game right, as it was supposed to be played in Willie’s time. But he did a lot more. He was more than a hitter, more than a fielder, more than a runner. More than someone who suited up and played nine innings. He was more than a ballplayer. Baseball’s greatest star was baseball’s greatest entertainer.
