Growing up, Mays and McCovey were like Wakandian Supermen to me. We lived in the hot and dreary Central Valley, did not yet understand racism, and a trip to SF was a visit to the Emerald CIty. I read the James Hirsch book about Mays and came away even more impressed. We forget that he was one of the first African Americans in Majors after Robinson, and often the first pitch was a fastball aimed at his head (right, Drysdale?). He is a tribute to incredible talent, and the enthusiasm/perseverance that made it happen. The most a(mays)ing thing in that book was that Mays almost threw out Dodgers on the basepaths for the cycle (home, 1st, 3rd, at 2nd but Fuentes dropped the ball) in one game in the 60s. He also did things unheard of today, like 1st to home on a bunt, 2nd to home on sac fly, etc. Robinson implied that Mays irresponsibly avoided civil rights, and Mays said that he stuck to baseball. Well, Mays/McCovey certainly made me respect civil rights as much as anyone. Shameful that an SF neighborhood didn't want Mays in '58, incredible all that he persevered despite being perhaps the best all around player ever.