The Awesome Lethality of Jim Abbott
My friend Matt Mentone likes to tell the story of how he first met Jim. He walked into the WNHU studios, down in the bowels of dingy Maxcy Hall, one day back in 1995. The man extended his hand and said, "Hi. Jim Abbott, like the pitcher." I suppose there could have been more than one Jim Abbott in this world, but the one we would come to know and love was one-of-a-kind. This made it all the more sad when Matt texted me last night. He'd heard from a mutual friend that Jim Abbott passed away on June 11th at the age of 59. I later found out that he'd suffered a stroke in January and never fully recovered. When I walked into my first sports department meeting in 1994, I was a little punk with long hair who loved alternative music and sports. I'd previously met Jay McEnaney, WNHU's Sports Director and play-by-play man at the time. Next to him was a young Scott Criscuolo, whom I would later bond with over anything Mets and wrestling-related. Then, there was this