A few months ago, Gene Michael leaned against the railing in front of the New York Yankees' dugout, looking a little disheveled, as always. The baseball caps he wore always seemed ill-fitting -- I could never figure out if they were too big or small -- and his shock of white hair usually needed a trim. When "Stick" Michael carried a notepad, the primary architect of what may be baseball’s last dynasty looked more like a sports writer than a multi-sport star from Kent State, where he had played basketball, as well as baseball.
Even after 10 years as a major-league middle infielder, Stick had long maintained to me that he’d been a better basketball player.