The game always gave me far more than I ever gave it. All of those things, every single one of those memories is enveloped with fan sights and sounds for me. Without the fans they would still be great memories, but none would be enduring and unforgettable because they infused the energy, rage, passion and ‘feel’ of all of those times. The game was here long before I was, and will be here long after I am gone. The only thing I hope I did was never put in question my love for the game, or my passion to be counted on when it mattered most. I did everything I could to win every time I was handed the ball.I make no qualms about Curt Schilling being one of my favorite ALL TIME players on the diamond. Seldom do you find someone with such a thirst to win and love for the game, while giving it all he had to help his team accomplish that goal. I'm a Phillies fanatic, which helps explain my appreciation for Schills. I was lucky enough to have season tickets throughout the 1993 season, and as a result took in game 1 of the championship series in which Schilling struck out the first five batters the Braves sent to the plate.
I'd say he'd be missed...but that's not exactly right. I rather Schills went out on his own terms. There is something uncomfortable about a player who has dominated over the length of his career coming back down to Earth towards the rest of us in the final few seasons. By retiring now, I'll remember his contributions to the game, and to my enjoyment of the game in the proper perspective. I won't recall a mediocre fastball over the meat of the plate getting sent out into the stratosphere, or a past All-star battling kids to stay in "the Show." Instead, I'll remember those whistling cannon shots and the splitter where the bottom dropped out right up until he called it a career. 3,116 strike outs...the attitude of a predator...and the heart of a lion.
Good luck Schills...and keep blogging.