MMillions of children who watched Willie Mays play during the height of his major league baseball career, or who were born after he retired from the sport in 1973, imagined themselves doing “The footprint.” Or practiced doing “The Catch,” just like Mays – who died peacefully on Tuesday afternoon at age 93 for the San Francisco Giants announced-did that afternoon in 1954. Throw a ball into the air behind you in your backyard, turn around and chase it, catching it over your shoulder with your glove, and conjure up the applause of a packed Polo Grounds . These imaginary screams filled the void of countless young minds.
And we’ve been doing this for almost 70 years.
Such was the power of Mays’ iconic World Series play in September 1954 against Vic Wertz of the Cleveland Indians in the eighth inning of Game 1 of the World Series. The score was tied 2-2. Mays, playing shallow center field for the New York Giants, began running back to the wall as Wertz hit a ball that would travel about 400 feet. Mays kept running and running and running, and made a miracle basket with his back to home plate. Mays not only saved at least two runs, but also had the presence of mind to immediately throw the ball back into the infield, keeping Cleveland’s offense going. Larry Doby, himself a fellow baseball Hall of Famer, from second base to home plate. Doby only made it to third. The Giants won the game and the World Series.
“Willie Mays just brought this crowd to its feet,” said announcer Jack Brickhouse, “with a prank that must have been an optical illusion to a lot of people.”
Mays was just 23 years old, the reigning MLB MVP, and the most electric baseball player — if not athlete — of his time. He was nicknamed “The Say Hey Kid” for the enthusiastic way he greeted his teammates. Only the emergence of Cassius Clay in the 1960s could overshadow Mays in the minds of Americans.
“He plays with the joy of a boy, the confidence of a professional and the talent of a champion,” TIME wrote of Mays in a 1954 cover story. Entering the majors in 1951, just four years after Jackie Robinson integrated the game, Mays roamed center field when baseball still reigned as America’s true pastime, before the explosion in popularity of football and basketball. His career home run total — 660, third all-time until the end of the 20th century, still good for sixth-best today — is etched into our sports psyche.
Mays grew up during segregation-era Alabama and joined the Negro Leagues’ Birmingham Black Barons in 1947. He soon emerged as one of America’s first black crossover stars. His talent and effervescent presence seemed to transcend existing prejudices. Fans didn’t dare look away when he reached base or entered the field because something exciting was about to happen. Her appearances on lily-white TV shows such as Donna Reed Show, Bewitchedor the Ed Sullivan Show, played a notable role in culture. White America was willing to embrace a black sports star in its living rooms — at least on television.
After reaching the big leagues, Mays was not immune to racism. When the New York Giants moved to San Francisco after the 1957 season, white neighbors objected to him purchasing a house in one of the city’s neighborhoods. He finally moved out. In short, he helped America take a few steps forward.

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This wasn’t enough for critics, like Robinson himself, who thought Mays should become more vocal in the civil rights movement. “Willie is personable and has great talent,” Robinson said of Mays in the late 1960s. “But he never matured. He continues to ignore the most important issue of our time. He has never had any decent guidance in these matters and probably continues to only look out for his safety as a big star. It’s a shame he never participated. He doesn’t realize that he wouldn’t be where he is today without the battles that others fought. He thinks it’s not his problem. But this is.”
History, however, will remember Mays for shining a light on what black Americans could accomplish on a fairer playing field. “A few years ago, Willie traveled with me on Air Force One,” said President Barack Obama he said in 2015, at the White House ceremony in which Mays received the Presidential Medal of Freedom. “I told him what I will tell all of you now: It is because of giants like Willie that someone like me could even think about running for president.”
On Thursday, the day after June 19, the San Francisco Giants and St. Louis Cardinals will play in Birmingham, Alabama, at Rickwood Field, the oldest remaining professional stadium in the country and former home of the Black Barons. Just yesterday, Mays announced that he would not be able to attend the game, which was created to honor him and the Negro Leagues. On Tuesday, Mays’ passing was announced over the Rickwood Field loudspeaker during a minor league game. The crowd and players gave a standing ovation and chanted “Willie, Willie!”
Was a appropriate tribute for a man who changed generations. Mays, his “Catch” and his memory will live on. It should never be duplicated.

This story originally appeared on Time.com read the full story