saw your picture in the paper today and i couldn t believe my eyes dead before your time but so long before your prime looking nothing like the memory from when i was a kid golden hair flowing down on your knees grooming the pitcher s mound and it s always 1976 the camera lies and the mirror plays tricks so many things that the years won t fix always 1976 set against a fading motor city and richard nixon s shame a rock star had arrived fidrych comes alive and i know it s hardly fair to say you won t grow old but forgive me if i try to keep that faded image in my eyes what does it say for the rest of us when our heroes die and leave us alone what does it say for the rest of us when we wake up and find this bird has flown 