A generation of sports fans imagined, considerable fear, what it must be like to face Randy Johnson in a batter’s box or elsewhere. He cast, even at ease, a long shadow and a very clear image. He was unfailingly fierce and utterly without remorse.
When he rocked into his pitching motion, lips drawn tight and eyes cold as frozen blades, the entire ballpark could feel his focused contempt long before he unleashed a fastball that reached frightening speeds.
That’s not the Randy Johnson I encountered over the years.
I got the warm, expansive Randy Johnson – the one I expect to appear in Cooperstown, NY on Sunday, when he becomes the latest Bay Area representative to enter the Baseball Hall of Fame.