Kemp was a congressman from 1970-88 and served as the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development under the first President Bush. He is probably best known, however, as Bob Dole's 1996 VP nominee. Before all that, though, he was the All-Pro quarterback of the Buffalo Bills, where he led his team to victory in the 1964 and 1965 AFL Championships.

Kemp is survived by his wife, children, and grandchildren.

Jack Kemp, star of field and politics, dies at 73 [NY Times]
A salute to Jack Kemp [Shutdown Corner]

George Kell was always overshadowed. He beat Ted Williams for a batting title, but could never match his power or his legend. He played sevens seasons in Detroit, but his first was also the last for the legendary Hank Greenberg. He made several All-Star teams and played a mean third base, but he would never win an MVP against the likes of Williams and Berra and Rizzuto. (And they didn't even have Golden Gloves back then.) He was a famous Tiger, but never quite as lauded as Cobb or Geringher or even Al Kaline, who would later be his partner in the announcing booth. He served as the Tigers TV play-by-play man for most of the '80s and '90s, but could never hold a candle to his legendary radio counterpart.

Yes, there were more than a few Tiger fans who preferred to turn down the sound on their TV to listen to Ernie Harwell's more familiar descriptions, but for me, coming of age as a baseball fan when I did, George Kell was a constant presence. I have no funny George stories, there are no classic rants or blunders available on YouTube, no drunken press box antics or legendary locker room stories to tell, and he didn't have any wacky catch phrases or famous calls. Listening to him narrate a game was like watching it with your grandpa (or my grandpa, anyway.) It may not have been that exciting, but it was just a easy way to pass an afternoon.

Yes, George Kell was utterly unremarkable as an announcer—and only slightly more memorable as a player—but he showed up to work every day (he commuted to Motown from Arkansas, by the way) and he did his solid job and that was kind of the way I preferred it. And now, today, he's gone and I feel really old. Not so old that I ever even saw him swing a bat, but if something happens to Alan Trammell anytime soon I'm going to need some serious counseling.

Hall of Fame Tiger George Kell, 86, dies [Detroit Free Press]
Flashback: Our last big George Kell story, from 2006 [Detroit Free Press]
George Kell Statistics [Baseball-Reference]

We feared our initial post about Hancock would read a little overwrought a year later, and it does, a little, but our initial point stands: It's so strange how much psychic weight we attach to people we know nothing about.

The relationship that we, as fans, have with the athletes we follow is as genuine as it is bizarre. Not a single day has gone by since Opening Day 2006, when Hancock first appeared on the Cardinals' roster, that he has not been on our mental radar. We cheered him, we cursed him, we forgot about him, we repeated the process; he occupied a real place in our lives. We did not know him, and we were not particularly curious to do so; if he got batters out, he made us happy, and that was enough. His sudden departure — shocking, horrible, insane — makes us feel as if we have lost something that we never realized we had. We want to go back and cheer harder for him, forgive his mistakes more easily ... treat him as human in a way we never did as a mere fan. He shifts from middle reliever to human being only in death; this can drive a fan mad with guilt and confusion.

But we did not know him. Many did, in far more depth than our parents' fleeting encounter 10 days ago. To those, he was never a middle reliever. He was just Josh, quiet, friendly, reserved, living the contradictory life of a Major League Baseball player who toils in relative anonymity. We cannot pretend to have known him, or to understand the anguish of those who did. We can only know that we have lost something small but real, and hope and pray that those who lost more than that can find some sort of peace.

Rest in peace, Josh Hancock, Eddie Griffin, and anyone else who left us too early, for one reason or another.

Dana played with Lou Gehrig — see, now that's cool, having played a sport with Lou Gehrig — at Columbia and spent one season with the football New York Yankees in 1928. No one knew he had played pro ball until four years ago, when he came across a listing of himself in an NFL encyclopedia.

We mourn his passing and congratulate him on his immediate signing to the Knicks 12-man roster.

NFL's Oldest Alum Passes [Ivy League Sports]

It's always sad to see a human being shuffle off this mortal coil, but we'd all be kidding ourselves if we didn't acknowledge that long-suffering Blackhawks fans will be pleased that he no longer owns their team. Here's a random sampling of blog reaction this morning:

• Walk Off Balk: "One of the most hated owners in all of sports."
• Yellow Chair Sports: "Fuck it. I'm busting my Hawks jersey out to celebrate. Ding Dong the Wirtz is dead."
• Lake Effect: "His funeral will not be televised in this market, as the late Mr. Wirtz considered it unfair to potential "home" mourners."

They haven't announced the toxicology report yet, so it's best not to jump to conclusions ... but ... well, Griffin had has certainly had his fair share of difficulties behind the wheel of a car before. It's not the most desirable way to be remembered, we suppose, but as clearly troubled as Griffin's life was, in a way, you almost have to be relieved it happened fast. And, of course, not while the film Privates was playing, which, we repeat, is the worst name of a porn film we have ever heard.

Rest in peace, Eddie: It was a short, crazy trip for you.

Former Wolf Griffin Dies After Hitting Freight Train [Minneapolis Star Tribune]
Eddie Griffin's Odd Film Choices [Deadspin]

He will be sorely missed, obviously, and we'll leave the deeper eulogizing to those who knew the man, not just the coach.

Former 49ers Head Coach Walsh Dies [San Francisco Chronicle]

Like a lot of people, I hadn't heard of Buck O'Neil until relatively recently. His participation in Ken Burns' "Baseball" documentary pushed him into the national conscience, and he's been a public figure since. I'd see him on television, or I'd read an interview with him, and I'd think, "Wow, that guy really took the whole 'you're not allowed in Major League Baseball because your black' thing remarkably well." Maybe that's part of the reason that he was such a popular guy recently. He never made anyone feel bad about anything.

He wasn't even mad when he came up one vote short to get into the baseball hall of fame this year.

God's been good to me. They didn't think Buck was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame. That's the way they thought about it and that's the way it is, so we're going to live with that. Now, if I'm a Hall of Famer for you, that's all right with me. Just keep loving old Buck. Don't weep for Buck. No, man, be happy, be thankful.

Well, I am, but... Buck O'Neil still deserves to be in the hall of fame. If his statistics on the field don't merit his inclusion, how about his contributions to baseball in general? O'Neil was a tireless proponent of keeping the history of the Negro leagues alive, and if he hadn't done that recently, who would have? If it wasn't for Buck, the special election for Negro league players in 2006 might not have even take place.

Help Build Buck's Hall [Negro League Baseball Museum]
Buck O'Neil, Negro Leagues Pioneer, Is Dead at 94 [New York Times]
10 Burning Questions for Buck O'Neil [ESPN Page 2]
Shadow Ball. Buck O'Neil Interview [PBS]

The death is another in a bizarre string of athletic-related deaths at Northwestern. Former football player Rashidi Wheeler died on the practice field in 2001, and his mother later brought a suit against the school (and Walker). And former basketball coach Ricky Byrdsong was killed during a random hate crime spree in 1999.

Northwestern Coach Walker Dead At 52 [Chicago Tribune]

(UPDATE: There's a legitimately touching message board discussion of Walker going on at the Wildcats' Rivals.com page.)

(SECOND UPDATE: SI.com's Stuart Mandel, a Northwestern alum, has an excellent react column as well.)

A roundup of Kirby reaction from around the Web:

• Why Kirby was the scariest hitter in baseball at the time. [Mariners Morsels]
• Trying to keep the good and the bad of Kirby separate. Sportszilla]
• The strangeness of a guy we all grew up watching dying so young. [The FYC]
• Video of Puckett after the 1991 World Series reveals ... he was in the "2 Legit 2 Quit" video? Did we forget about this? [Minnesota Video Stories]
• Touching tribute from the great Bat-Girl. [Bat Girl]
• How big was Puckett getting? Here's a photo from just one year ago. [Woolis.com]
• The sports Wiki encourages you to weigh in. [Armchair GM]
• And every other link we might have missed. [Baseball Musings]

Our personal favorite Richard Pryor moment was when he was describing his freebasing accident that caused him to set himself on fire.

Let me tell you what really happened: Every night before I go to bed, I have milk and cookies. One night I mixed some low-fat milk and some pasteurized, then I dipped my cookie in ... and the shit blew up.

Rest in peace, Richard.

Comedy Loses Its Edge: Richard Pryor [NPR]
Donate To Multiple Sclerosis Society [National MS Society]