The statistics and numbers Willie Mays compiled as a Major League Baseball Hall of Famer are stunning—and perhaps even more beyond computation is what his phenomenal, incomparable performance meant at the turnstiles of the stadiums. Like a rock star, he drew fans to the ballparks wherever he played. There was his unique way of catching the ball, whether basket-style or over his left shoulder; his prowess on the base paths and ability to hit the ball with power and consistency were unmatched. He even possessed a showman’s instinct, making sure his cap flew off his head as he sped on the field.
There is no way to compute what he meant at the box office, nor the impact he had on attendance, but he was as magnetic an attraction as he was graceful on the diamond. As one noted commentator stated upon hearing of his death at 93 on June 18, Willie came as close to perfection as you can get in baseball.
Before the 1963 season, Willie signed a contract worth a record-setting $105,000 per season, equivalent to a little over a million dollars last year. That salary is minuscule to the millions of dollars the club owners raked in, but there was rarely a complaint from Willie. “All I want to do is play baseball,” he often told reporters.
In today’s market where the top players are commanding huge payouts, Willie’s agent would bring him wheelbarrows of cash if he were roaming centerfield, banging the ball out of Candlestick Park, or just available to meet the demands for autographs nowadays, which he often did graciously.
He never lost that Alabama charm, that “Aw, shucks” personality, a prepossessing dignity and integrity that endeared him to fans and foes.
No matter the numbers he registered in the record books and the countless dollars that followed him to the plate, Willie, as more than one sports writer has noted, was simply “a-MAYS-ing.”