Bill Maserosky never, never wanted to be known for the home run.

Took pride in it, happy it happened, but never wanted to be singularly defined by it.

One problem with that.

He never had a choice in the matter.

Good morning to you.

Good.

Monday morning.

I'm Dan Kovachvich of D.K. Pittsburgh

Sports. This is Daily Shot of Pirates. Brought to you by our friends at the North Shore Tavern.

It comes your way bright and early every weekday. If you're into football and or hockey,

I also offer daily shots of Steelers and penguins in the same place that you found this.

Pirates are off to a 3-0 start in grapefruit ball. If one lost records are your thing,

the exhibition level, that includes sweeping a split squad yesterday.

Seven to four over the race in Bradenton, four to three over the Phillies in Clearwater,

but the weekend was immensely and very much understandably overshadowed by the passing of the legend William Stanley Maserosky.

And boy, is that a term, legend, that gets misused, misapplied?

If you think about what it means at its root, it's a legend, it's folklore, it's a fairy tale, and that is everything that this man

created with a single swing at 3.36 p.m. on the 13th of October in 1960. This was well before my time, well before I was born. But then that's the beauty of

legend. It doesn't dissipate. It just gets passed on from generation to generation to generation

in some form. The story of those pirates versus those Yankees,

the story of that World Series,

and the odds that had to be overcome

...