We the People: The Power of One

Bill Mazeroski died on February 20^th. It’s unlikely many Americans had heard of Bill, aka Maz. But Pittsburgh Pirate fans remember him much to their delight. As well as New York Yankees’ fans to their eternal dismay. For it was Maz who rocked the world of baseball with a walk-off homerun in the bottom of the ninth inning of the seventh game of the 1960 World Series. It was the swat heard ‘round the world.

On February 22^nd, the American men’s Olympic hockey team defeated the favored Canadians in overtime to win the gold. It was kind of déjà vu all over again because it happened on the forty-sixth anniversary of the Miracle on Ice in which the American team defeated the heavily favored Soviet Union team.

The 2026 victory came three days after the women’s team pulled out their own thrilling, come-from-behind overtime victory against Canada. They trailed by a point with just over two minutes remaining, but captain Hilary Knight made U.S. Olympic history by scoring her fifteenth goal, sending the game into overtime.

While both teams came out victorious, the games could’ve easily gone the other way because of how the opposing squads, men and women, were nearly evenly matched. That wasn’t true for the 1960 Pirates and the men’s 1980 Olympic hockey team, however.  

The Yankees were a powerhouse of all-stars and future hall-of-famers, including Yogi, Mickey Mantle, and Whitey Ford. The Pirates, on the other hand, were comparatively a motley crew. They had no superstar, other than up-and-coming Roberto Clemente.

The 1980 Soviet Union’s players were essentially pros, products of the state, the philosophy of which was akin to Friedrich Nietzsche’s concept of the Übermensch or superman. Pure brawn. The American players were amateur college kids.

Mark Twain reputedly said, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” What he  meant was just because there isn’t a cause-and-effect relationship between events, there oftentimes is a pattern or a correlation between them. And there are lessons to be learned from them, like never giving up even when the odds are stacked against you.  

On the surface, Maz’s passing and the men’s 2026 hockey team’s victory aren’t related, but they are in a roundabout way. For it was Yogi Berra who coined the phrase “déjà vu all over again,” and it was Yogi who helplessly watched Maz’s rocket soar over his head and Forbes Field’s leftfield wall.

Like his teammates, Maz was hardworking, quiet, and unassuming. He didn’t hit for power, wasn’t fleet of foot, and had a mediocre lifetime batting average. But he had sure hands. He won numerous Gold Glove Awards for his nearly errant-free play at second base. No one was quicker at turning a double play. His moniker was “No Hands” because he was the best at fielding grounders and quickly getting rid of the ball on a toss to second base or a bullet to first.

Maz was born in Wheeling WV during the Great Depression. His dad was a coal miner who sustained a serious foot injury in the mines. But he knew baseball, especially the importance of error-free play, and he drilled it into young Bill. Consequently, Bill became disciplined, focused on the basics, the nitty-gritty of the sport. Just like the players on the Olympic gold-winning teams.

The goaltender for the 2026 team, Connor Hellebuyck, played his position in the Maz tradition. Nearly perfectly. It was Jack Hughes though, who lost several teeth due to a high stick to his mouth minutes before, who made the winning goal. He too played in the Maz tradition, albeit in a bloody fashion.

Sports play a vital role in our culture. It’s true they’re often overbaked, and the money at the professional levels is obscene considering how many struggle to pay the rent and put food on the table. But they’re invaluable for fans’ mental and emotional health by helping even the most needy forget their woes for a brief time. And they remind us that underdogs can come out on top as long as they maintain a never-give-up attitude.

Maz didn’t win the 1960 World Series on his own. It took a team that didn’t know the meaning of quit. Nor was he the Sultan of Swat. That was Babe Ruth, whose Yankees swept the Pirates in the 1927 World Series. Nonetheless, he’s the one who delivered the hit that felled Babe’s mighty Yankees.