Mickey Fucking Mantle

I had a light load to pick up at The Great Escape today--Barnstormers #1, thassall--so I was poking around, seeing if there was anything else I could grab, when I espied this Thing Of Beauty:

Ah, yes, Mickey Mantle. 

When I was a Little Brother K, my sainted Da took me to Memorial Stadium, and I watched the Orioles face off against the New York Yankees. And I saw Mickey Mantle play. I knew enough about baseball to be awed by that...though I'm sorry to say that not a single moment of that day's game remains with me now. 

But very soon after that I bought and read / absorbed The Quality of Courage, a short book of anecdotes by Mickey and sportswriter Robert Creamer. And to this day I remember pieces of that book...and we're talking 55 years later, so there's that.

Mickey became a major hero to me. He was the guy who triumphed despite massive adversity. The guy who just gutted it out. 

So when I saw a figure of Mickey Mantle at The Great Escape, I really had to buy it. I picked it up to check the price, cringing in anticipation, and saw this:

For Mickey Mantle, man.

Mickey Fucking Mantle!

Look on my works, ye mighty....