I've always hated the NY Yankees with a passion (just like I hate the Steelers and the entire ACC!), but I always respected Thurman Munson (who was killed 30 years ago today).

1979 was my first year in teener baseball - I pitched and played different infield positions - but our regular catcher broke his leg before the season started, and I volunteered to catch. Thurman was one of my heros, and so I played exactly the way he played (I actually did pretty well). And when I got banged up (all kinds of bumps and bruises from foul tips, hurt my knees, and got hit twice in the head/mask with a bat), I pretended I was like Thurman playing hurt.

By the time August came around, our season was done, but I kept following Thurman as much as I could. (Even wanted to grow a moustache like his, but I was only 14).

I was watching a late afternoon Phillies game on August 3rd against the Mets. The Phillies put a four spot on the board in the top half of the first inning. Right before they went to a commerical break, Phillies commentator Richie Ashburn said, "Harry (referring to Harry Kalas), I've just been handed a tragic, tragic news story - Thurman Munson, the great catcher for the NY Yankees, has been killed in a plane crash". I was crushed.

A few night later, the Yankees and Orioles played the famous Monday night baseball game on ABC, right after the funeral, when the Yankees won an emotional come-from-behind victory and Bobby Mercer cried on the field.

Back in those days, all I did in the summer was play baseball, watch baseball (and yes, chase girls). I was so stunned by the news that for a week I hardly did or said anything.

RIP, Thurman, you were a stud