NFL
By: Zachary Draves
He was the original five tool player who could do it all. He could hit, hit for power, field, throw, and run. He helped spur a sea change in American society and culture with one great play after another and his dazzling presence on the field made the game exciting beyond measure. He was the Say Hey Kid otherwise known as Willie Mays.
His career is one filled with spectacular numbers combined with winning performance while never wavering his unconditional love for the game.
In twenty two seasons playing for the New York/San Francisco Giants and the New York Mets, Mays had a lifetime batting average of .302, 3,283 hits, 660 home runs, 1,903 RBIs and 2,062 runs scored. He was Rookie of the Year in 1951, 2 time MVP (1954, 1965), an 11 time Gold Glove winner, and won a single World Series in 1954, which he solely defined by one of the greatest catches in baseball history. In 1979, he was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame and established himself as one of the most beloved figures who ever played the game.
(Courtesy: Malcolm Emmons/USA TODAY Sports)
Every time his bat hit the ball, every time he rounded the bases, and every time he chased a ball out in center field whether at the oddly designed but unique Polo Grounds in New York or battling the gusty winds of Candlestick Park in San Francisco, Mays played with non-stop joy and excitement.
(Courtesy: Frank Hurley, New York Daily News)
In other words, he expressed black joy athletically.
During his transcending tenure, which coincided during the Civil Rights era, Mays became one of the first black athletes to achieve commercial and cultural cache with his ability to transcend racial barriers through his playing style and easy going personality. A remarkable achievement status at a time in which the lives of Black Americans were literally hanging in the balance by the non-stop racist terrorism coming at the hands of Jim Crow and Segregation.
He was the Michael Jordan or Magic Johnson of his generation in the sense that he was a black athlete with tremendous likability that enabled him to become a universal icon.
Now that legacy has been captured by legendary filmmaker and culture writer Nelson George in his HBO Documentary Say Hey! Willie Mays which premiered on November 8. It tells the story of his life through his own testimonials and that of a few of his former teammates, contemporaries, namely his godson Barry Bonds, his family, and famed historians.
(Courtesy: Youtube)
In an interview with NBS, George speaks on the circumstances that went into the making of this film, his major takeaways, and his assessment of Mays’ place in history.
ZD: What made you want to take on this project and tell the story of Willie Mays?
NG: It really came to me. I was working on a show called Tales of the Tour Bus a few years ago. A very funny docu show about music and the producers Sean Stewart and Colin Hanks had been pursuing Willie since at least 2015 and they came together with the people from LeBron’s company Springhill and they said “listen you have a great background as a historian, you’ve written about sports, and appeared in sports docs, would you come on board?” So we put together a presentation and we finally went to meet Willie just before September 2019. Just before the pandemic hits, we go to meet him. I’ll never forget as we walked in the room, there was Willie Mays in his chair, Sean Stewart went to shake his hand and Willie said “that ain’t no handshake!” He’s funny and in many ways he is the ultimate jock. He has been in locker rooms since 1948, so he can take the piss out of people. But we really bonded with him and really liked him.
Then of course the pandemic hit and that pushed us back about a year. He got a vaccine and we had to get vaccinated. So when you see the film, the interview we did, it’s probably a year and a half from when we really wanted to start. We started with Willie at his house and I think we were one of the first film crews ever to be in his space. That’s his den and if you look at the picture it is baseball, bats, pictures, and incredible memorabilia. This guy is so much a part of American history it’s crazy.
ZD: As you were making this documentary, what were some of the things that surprised you about Willie in terms of some of the stories that he told?
NG: Well I think the thing that I learned was the mentorship part of him. He was mentored first in the Negro Leagues by Piper Davis and all those older guys. He was a kid and these were grown men. Then when he got to New York, Leo Durocher and Monte Irvin looked out for him. But what was interesting was by the time he got to San Francisco, he was the guy. So the (Orlando) Cepedas, the (Juan) Marichals, the Willie McCoveys, he was the mentor to those guys and eventually Bobby Bonds and Barry Bonds. So this legacy of mentorship was a big part of his being and there’s all these stories that we couldn’t fit into the film. Joe Morgan talked about meeting Willie when he was a young infielder and Willie inviting him over for dinner. Bob Gibson had similar stories. Frank Robinson had similar stories. There’s that Reggie (Jackson) story we have where Reggie talks about Willie seeking him out. Willie pretty much sought people out and he wanted to make sure they were alright. I didn’t realize he was that kind of guy and almost a father figure and certainly the uncle figure at the very least for many players.
ZD: You mentioned Barry Bonds. I found it really significant that you got the chance to talk to Barry Bonds considering how he has always had a tempestuous relationship with the media and at one point Willie did too. What was that like?
NG: It was amazing. In the film, you see Willie’s 90th birthday party towards the end and that is where we met Barry. It took about maybe a year of negotiations to get him comfortable even though he wanted to do it. His relationship with the media has been so contentious and so we really had to build his trust that we weren’t going to do a “gotcha” interview and that we were focused on his relationship with Willie and that’s what this film was about. Once we sat down with him he super opened up. We never expected him to be so emotional and so vulnerable. So I think that people who only know Barry through the tense press conferences he used to have are going to be shocked at meeting this guy. I think this is the Barry that he was protecting, the more vulnerable guy. I think that is one of the most profound experiences I’ve had during this film and in general to find the core of a really sweet man.
ZD: One thing that stood out to me as I was watching it is that we get to the 60’s, Willie’s playing in San Francisco and we see the rise of Muhammad Ali, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, Curt Flood, and other black athletes speaking out. Willie was noticeably quiet for the most part and received criticism from Jackie Robinson. Given all of that, in the course of making this film, how do you put Willie in that historical narrative of black athletes and their accomplishments not just in their respective but to the broader society?
NG: A long time ago a guy said to me “when it comes to activism there are two types of people; there are tree shakers, who make the fruit fall down, and there are the jelly makers who make the fruit into something.” Willie came up in Mississippi in the 1940’s and 1950’s and his father told him “play don’t talk” and he took that to heart. Willie is a guy who, like Sidney Poitier and Sammy Davis Jr., are pioneers in opening up the American mind to the humanity of black people. The fact that he was on sitcoms in the mid 60’s, he was on Bewitched and the Donna Reeves Show. When a black person was on TV we ran to the TV. So Willie being on was an introduction to a lot of white people around the country. I don’t think you get to the more militant stage that happened without someone pushing the door to make us visible. I think he is part of that. Every generation has its own vibe. If you look at the generation now, the Black Lives Matter generation, before them you got (Michael) Jordan, Magic, and guys who weren’t political but who opened up the world because they are businessmen, they are charismatic, and they are likable. So I think there is always the Ying and Yang, I think Willie is the Ying and the next level is Yang.
ZD: You mention Michael and Magic, when I look at Willie he was essentially them on the baseball field that he played with a flair and style that paved the way for Michael and Magic to do what they did on the basketball court. And for, it’s bad timing to say his name, but O.J. Simpson on the football field in that he had that same flare, style, and charisma.
NG: It’s funny that people don’t want to mention OJ but the guy had Hertz commercials that we all watched as kids. OJ’s been kind of excised from the culture but he is truly part of that same lineage of these athletes that have this off the field likability that allows them to move in spaces and bring black people in spaces we weren’t in before. But OJ is a link between Willie and definitely Magic because there is a likability that they all had and went hand in hand with their athletic excitement. We are in an era now where people want to ignore parts of history because it makes them uncomfortable but people are complex and a hero is not a hero all the way through. That doesn’t mean they didn’t do heroic things but it makes them complicated and to me that is what life is about. No one is ever a super saint or a super villain. Willie says in the film “I have never been in any trouble” and he didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke. He says at one point “in 1951 when I joined the Giants, I had a 32 inch waist, in 1973 when I retired with the Mets, I had a 32 inch waist.” So there is a dedication to the game and there was a story that we didn’t fit into the movie but I will tell you. So Frank Sinatra loves sports, he invites Willie to his big house in Palm Springs for a party, Willie goes as a friend and then the Jack Daniels starts coming out. Willie is like “gotta go, we’re leaving.” Frank invites Willie to other parties, Willie makes excuses and doesn’t go. So even though he loved Frank’s music, he is not going to put himself in a place where he can get in trouble. I think that is the biggest lesson about his longevity. He took care of his body, he took care of his spirit, and that is why the guy played 22 years at a time when athletes were through at 35. Even when you look at (Mickey) Mantle, they both came up in ’51 and I think Mantle retired in ’68, Willie played another five years and when you look at Willie’s numbers, they were pretty good and he was still a productive player.
ZD: What do you hope people will take away from this documentary if they haven’t gotten a chance to see it? Do you think Willie Mays is the greatest baseball player of all time?
NG: Well I think that the argument that can be made very strongly is that in terms of the totality of the game, maybe Aaron was a better power hitter, Rickey Henderson was probably faster and better base stealer, but in terms of the totality of all these different disciplines that baseball requires, Willie was a ten at everything. I think the other thing is because baseball is not what it used to be in terms of pop culture, Willie’s role as one of the greatest of all time has been minimized because the game is not what it used to be. So what I hope to do is to reintroduce Willie as this iconic player to a new generation. Also to rekindle the memories. I got so many messages over the Thanksgiving holiday from people who watched it with their family or watched it with their father or grandfather who watched Willie. Younger people watching with their father and their father sharing stories. That is one of the most satisfying things about the film is the idea that it is a cross-generational experience.
