I started this post last night with the intent to have it finished before I went to bed, schedule it for 7 AM, and wake up to your comments and sweet, sweet, worthless retweets. I got as far as typing the title and selecting a photo, then I started watching Brockmire, and stuck with that until I was dozing off on the couch. When I woke up to the sweetest kitten cleaning my face with her little sandpaper tongue, I grabbed my laptop and put it on the dining room table with the goal of tying a ribbon on this and unleashing it on the world, but got sidetracked by a dishwasher full of clean dishes and a sink full of dirty ones. Once I finally got around to opening my computer, there was a front office move that needed written about, and not long after that was a minor trade. So, here it is, well over six hours after I meant for it to be.
I won’t rehash Willie McCovey’s stats and career path since I’ve done that before, and so have many more better-qualified individuals. I just use any excuse I can to break out pictures of McCovey in brown and gold, and I’d say a round-number birthday is about as good as excuses get.