Today I was listening to a sports documentary on Mickey Mantle. One of the great baseball players of all time, number 7 of the New York Yankees was born in Oklahoma and raised in the mining town of Commerce at the Northeast corner of Oklahoma. There are two stories of this great man. The first story is one of the hero that makes grown men cry for the promises of their youth. The second story is the one less told and never shown on the iconic photographs seen in baseball cards and black and white interviews. The affairs, the constant drinking, and the father that was never there weren’t the part of the Mick became eternalized in our minds those familiar with baseball heroes and greats. No the Commerce Comet that Yankee fans remember are those of seeing him glide around the bases after smashing a home run into the top row of Yankee stadium. We remember the angle of his smile while a wooden baseball bat lay on his shoulder. He was super human. He was a clean cut looking hero that stood not just for baseball, but the memories we shared with our parents.