I was speaking with several writers about luck. I just finished a new biography about Willie Mays. I realized he was lucky to have entered the Major Leagues when he did as an African-American player. If he had been ten to fifteen years older, he would have been too old for African-Americans being accepted to Major League Baseball. The Negro Leagues taught him a certain degree of barnstorming showmanship. He already had an enjoyment and brought pure joy to what he did. He was lucky the Giants picked him up and his first manager, Leo Durocher loved him like a son. For Willie wore his heart on his sleeve. He had all that raw talent and baseball smarts, but he still had to be in the right place at the right time, with the right people.