There are some events that always resonate so well in your memory that just thinking about it takes you back to that moment. Kirby hitting that homerun in game 6 of the 1991 Series is one of those for me. I remember that I was babysitting my little sisters while my parents were out for the evening and I was wearing the replica Twins jersey my aunt from Minneapolis sent me for my birthday a month earlier. When Liebrandt's circle change left the yard, I was so excited I did a lap around the block, sprinting and screaming the whole time.

I even remember the last time Kirby played a ball game and how it ended with him leaving after being hit by a pitch in the face. Supposedly, he bled so much that the dirt in the batter's box became mud.  At the time, I was so angry at the pitcher, not because he did it on purpose (he probably didn't), but because it meant Kirby would be leaving the game too early. Little did I know it would be the last of Kirby on the field ever.

The next Spring, Kirby announced that glaucoma had claimed his sight in one eye and that he would have to retire. I was a senior in high school, and very little could make me cry by that point. Realizing that my hero was riding off into the sunset too early was one of them.

Now, Kirby has left this Earth too early. As someone who cherished every at bat I was able to see from him and every play he made on the field for my beloved Twins, I can take comfort knowing that his spirit will live on in our memories.