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NEW YORK — Bud Harrelson, the scrappy and sure-handed shortstop who fought Pete Rose on the field during a playoff game and helped the New York Mets win an astonishing championship, died early Thursday morning. He was 79.

The Mets said Thursday morning that Harrelson died at a hospice house in East Northport, New York, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. He was diagnosed in 2016 and publicly shared his struggle two years later, hoping he and his family could help others afflicted.

Throughout his health ordeal, Harrelson stayed involved with his professional pride and joy. He was part-owner of the Long Island Ducks, an independent minor league team located minutes from his home. He called his decades of work with the club — which he was instrumental in starting and running — his greatest achievement in baseball.

The team said Harrelson’s family was planning a celebration of his life for a later date.

During a major league career that lasted from 1965 to ’80, the light-hitting Harrelson was selected to two All-Star Games and won a Gold Glove. Known to family and teammates as Buddy, he spent his first 13 seasons with New York and was the only man in a Mets uniform for both their World Series titles.

The first came as the infield anchor of the 1969 Miracle Mets, the other as the club’s third-base coach in 1986.

In one of the most famous scenes in baseball history, it was a euphoric Harrelson who waved home Ray Knight with the winning run on Bill Buckner’s error in Game 6 of the ’86 World Series against Boston.

Harrelson also managed the Mets for nearly two seasons, guiding them to a second-place NL East finish in 1990 after taking over in late May. He was inducted into the team’s Hall of Fame in 1986, joining Rusty Staub as the first two players honored.

“It was easy to see why the ’69 guys loved him. He was great on defense and he was tough,” Mets broadcaster Ron Darling, who pitched for the club from 1983 to ’91, told the New York Post in 2018.

In Game 3 of the 1973 NL Championship Series between the Mets and Cincinnati Reds, Rose slid hard into Harrelson at second base on a double play. The two ended up toe-to-toe and then wrestling in the infield dirt at Shea Stadium, triggering a wild, bench-clearing brawl that spilled into the outfield.

Outweighed by more than 30 pounds, the scrawny, gritty Harrelson got the worst of it.

But he didn’t back down.

“I have no regrets about going at it with Rose. I did what I had to do to protect myself, and Pete did what he thought he had to do to try to motivate his team,” Harrelson wrote in his 2012 memoir, “Turning Two: My Journey to the Top of the World and Back with the New York Mets” co-authored by Phil Pepe. “We fought and that was the end of it.”

Sort of.

The game was held up as irate fans hurled objects at Rose, and the Reds were pulled off the field by manager Sparky Anderson until order was restored. Mets skipper Yogi Berra and players including Willie Mays and Tom Seaver went out to left field to calm the crowd.

Cincinnati players apparently were peeved about a comment from Harrelson after Game 2. Making light of his own shortcomings, Harrelson said Mets pitcher Jon Matlack “made the Big Red Machine look like me hitting” after the left-hander tossed a two-hit shutout.

“I didn’t think it was all that bad. I was kind of putting myself down a little bit, but I was also putting them down,” Harrelson said. “Then I heard that they were going to come after me and all that, so I figured that was it right there. And when Pete hit me after I’d already thrown the ball, I got mad. And we had the little match. He just kind of lifted me up, laid me down to sleep and it was all over.”

Harrelson later wrote that Charlie Hustle caught him with “a cheap shot.” But the former shortstop would also joke about the fracas, often saying: “I hit him with my best punch. I hit him right in the fist with my eye.”

The two became teammates in Philadelphia years later and when their playing days were long over, Harrelson said Rose, baseball’s career hits leader, signed a photo of the fight for him and wrote, “Thanks for making me famous.”

Harrelson later managed Rose’s son with the Ducks, and the elder Rose even attended a couple of games, Harrelson said.

Harrelson was traded to the Phillies in 1978 and spent two years with them before playing his final season for the Texas Rangers. A switch-hitter, he finished his career with a .236 batting average and .616 OPS. He hit seven home runs — never more than one in a season — and stole 127 bases, including a career-high 28 for the Mets in 1971.

Despite his lack of power, Harrelson could be pesky at the plate. He drew 95 walks in 1970 and was always a good bunter. He batted .333 lifetime (20-for-60) against Hall of Famer Bob Gibson, with 14 walks and just three strikeouts for a .459 on-base percentage.

“I have always said I’ll take God to three-and-two and take my chances. I might foul two off before He gave me ball four,” Harrelson wrote.

Harrelson came off the bench in the 1970 All-Star Game in Cincinnati, getting two hits and scoring twice. He was the National League’s starting shortstop the following season at Tiger Stadium and won his only Gold Glove that year.

Harrelson went 3-for-17 (.176) with three walks when the Mets beat heavily favored Baltimore in the 1969 World Series. He had a .379 on-base percentage during a seven-game loss to Oakland in the ’73 Series, after New York upset Cincinnati in the playoffs.

As manager of the Mets from 1990 to ’91, Harrelson compiled a 145-129 record.

Derrel McKinley “Bud” Harrelson was born in Niles, California, on D-Day: June 6, 1944. He went to college at San Francisco State and signed with the Mets in June 1963 for $13,500 even though the New York Yankees offered $3,000 more.

Harrelson said he was a little intimidated by the Yankees’ storied history and worried he might get stuck in the minors with them. He figured the Mets, an expansion franchise in 1962, might provide a faster path to the majors.

Early in his pro career with the struggling club, he tried switch-hitting at Casey Stengel’s suggestion and stuck with it.

In 1972, Harrelson authored an instructional book titled “How to Play Better Baseball.”

After his diagnosis, Harrelson joined the board of directors of Alzheimer’s Association Long Island and worked with his family to raise awareness. He still made it out to Ducks games, eagerly greeting fans as a goodwill ambassador even if he couldn’t throw batting practice or coach first base anymore.

“I feel like I’m home when I’m there. I’m with the people I love,” Harrelson told the Post.

“I want people to know you can live with [Alzheimer’s] and that a lot of people have it,” he said. “It could be worse.”

Despite his condition, Harrelson was at Citi Field in 2019 for the Mets’ 50th anniversary celebration of their 1969 championship. Tom Seaver, his good friend and former roommate, did not attend after the Hall of Fame pitcher was diagnosed with dementia.

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Rays to play 2025 season at Yankees’ spring field

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Rays to play 2025 season at Yankees' spring field

ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. — The Tampa Bay Rays will play their 2025 home games at the New York Yankees‘ nearby spring training ballpark amid uncertainty about the future of hurricane-damaged Tropicana Field, Rays executives told The Associated Press.

Stuart Sternberg, the Rays’ principal owner, said in an interview that Steinbrenner Field in Tampa is the best fit for the team and its fanbase. At about 11,000 seats, it’s also the largest spring training site in Florida.

“It is singularly the best opportunity for our fans to experience 81 games of major league Rays baseball,” Sternberg said. “As difficult as it is to get any of these stadiums up to major league standards, it was the least difficult. You’re going to see Major League Baseball in a small environment.”

Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred said the Rays-Yankees deal is good for the sport and the Tampa Bay region.

“This outcome meets Major League Baseball’s goals that Rays fans will see their team play next season in their home market and that their players can remain home without disruption to their families,” Manfred said in a news release.

The Rays’ home since 1998, the domed Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, was hit hard by Hurricane Milton on Oct. 9, with most of its fabric roof shredded and water damage inside. The city of St. Petersburg, which owns the Trop, released an assessment of the damage and repair needs that estimated the cost at $55.7 million if it is to be ready for the start of the 2026 season.

The work would have to be approved by the city council, which earlier this year voted for a new $1.3 billion, 30,000-seat stadium to replace Tropicana Field beginning in 2028. The new stadium is part of a much larger urban revitalization project known as the Historic Gas Plant District — named for the Black community that once occupied the 86 acres that includes retail, hotels, office space, a Black history museum, restaurants and bars.

Amid the uncertainty, the Rays know one thing: they will play 2025 in a smallish, outdoor ballpark operated by one of their main American League East rivals. A ballpark with a facade mimicking that of Yankee Stadium in New York and festooned with plaques of Yankees players whose numbers have been retired.

Brian Auld, the Rays co-president, said in an interview that Tampa Bay has to be ready for a regular-season MLB game March 27 against the Colorado Rockies, just three days after the Yankees break training camp.

“There will be a ton of work toward putting in our brand,” Auld said. “The term we like to use for that is “Rayful’ into Steinbrenner Field.”

It will also come with weather challenges in the hot, rainy Florida summer climate the Rays didn’t worry about in their domed ballpark. The Rays averaged about 16,500 fans per game during the 2024 season.

The Yankees will receive about $15 million in revenue for hosting the Rays, a person familiar with the arrangement told The Associated Press, speaking on condition of anonymity because that detail was not announced. The money won’t come from Tampa Bay but from other sources, such as insurance.

Once known as Legends Field, Steinbrenner Field opened in 1996 on Tampa’s north side. It is named for longtime Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, who ran a shipbuilding company in Tampa and died at his home there in 2010. One of his sons, Yankees executive Hal Steinbrenner, was instrumental in getting the deal done with the Rays, Sternberg said.

“This is a heavy lift for the Yankees. This is a huge ask by us and baseball of the Yankees,” Sternberg said. “[Hal Steinbrenner] did not waver for one second. I couldn’t have been more grateful.”

Hal Steinbrenner said in a news release that the Yankees are “happy to extend our hand to the Rays” and noted that the team and his family have “deep roots” in the Tampa Bay area.

“In times like these, rivalry and competition take a back seat to doing what’s right for our community, which is continuing to help families and businesses rebound from the devastation caused by Hurricanes Helene and Milton,” he said.

The Tampa Tarpons, one of the Yankees’ minor league teams, play their home games at Steinbrenner Field during the summer. They will use baseball diamonds elsewhere in the training complex this season.

It’s not the first time a big league team will host regular-season games in a spring training stadium. The Toronto Blue Jays played part of the 2021 season at their facility in Dunedin because of Canadian government restrictions during the COVID-19 pandemic.

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4-star QB 6th to decommit from FSU’s 2025 class

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4-star QB 6th to decommit from FSU's 2025 class

Four-star Florida State quarterback pledge Tramell Jones pulled his commitment from the Seminoles Thursday morning, marking the sixth departure from Mike Norvell’s 2025 class across the program’s 1-9 start to the regular season this fall.

Jones, a 6-foot, 190-pound passer from Jacksonville, Florida, is ESPN’s ninth-ranked dual-threat quarterback prospect in the 2025 cycle. The longest-tenured member of Florida State’s 2025 class, Jones’ decommitment arrives five days after Norvell fired three members of his coaching staff on Sunday following the program’s 52-3 defeat at Notre Dame, headlined by the exit of offensive coordinator and offensive line coach Alex Atkins.

Jones’ move represents the latest blow to a Seminoles’ class that’s taken a series of hits this fall as Florida State has followed its 13-1 in 2023 with a disastrous 2024 campaign. A previous lynchpin in the program’s 2025 class, Jones follows ESPN 300 prospects Myron Charles, Javion Hilson, Malik Clark, Daylan McCutcheon and CJ Wiley among the top recruits who have left Norvell’s incoming class since the Seminoles’ Aug. 24 season opener. Jones’ exit leaves Florida State with 12 prospects left committed in 2025, including five ESPN 300 pledges led by five-star offensive tackle Solomon Thomas, ESPN’s No. 13 overall prospect in the 2025 cycle.

Florida State sat at No. 37 in ESPN’s class rankings in 2025 prior to Jones’ decommitment Thursday with further movement expected out of the Seminoles’ class in the coming weeks.

With his recruitment reopened, Jones stands as one of the top uncommitted quarterbacks in the final weeks of the 2025 cycle. A four-year starter at Florida’s Mandarin High School, Florida has remained in contact with Jones this fall, and sources within the Gators’ program are optimistic that Florida will ultimately land Jones in the final weeks of the cycle following the school’s decision to keep Billy Napier as head coach beyond 2024.

Florida is set to host a series of high-profile recruits when the Gators host LSU at 3:30 p.m. on ABC Saturday afternoon. Florida State is off in Week 12 before a Nov. 23 visit from Charleston Southern.

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Even in death, college football fans want to be at their favorite stadiums

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Even in death, college football fans want to be at their favorite stadiums

BARBARA WEITZ SAT at a Nebraska Board of Regents meeting over the summer, when thinking about ways to generate revenue to help mitigate recent university budget cuts, she blurted out an idea.

Without much thought or research, Weitz wondered aloud whether passionate Nebraska fans would pay money to have cremated remains stored in a columbarium, a standalone structure with cubbies that house said remains. Even better, with a grass field set to be installed at Memorial Stadium in 2026, what if that columbarium was built underneath the football field as part of the renovations?

“Then grandma or grandpa or sister or brother could be a Husker supporter forever,” Weitz said.

Her fellow regents laughed her out of the room. Nobody liked the thought of games being played above a de facto burial ground. The idea was impractical, anyway. If the columbarium was built under the field, they would also have to construct an underground entrance for people to be able to visit, and how exactly would that work?

Feeling discouraged, Weitz went about her other work. But the meeting was public, and soon a newspaper article published her idea. Before long, the emails started coming in. One came from a casket company in Kansas interested in helping make the hypothetical columbarium. Another came from a company in Ireland claiming to have done a similar thing already, for a rugby and soccer club in the United Kingdom. She also learned someone was trying to build a columbarium in South Carolina, near Williams-Brice Stadium, but plans had stalled.

The idea gained enough traction that at a recent football game, someone stopped Weitz and said that if the columbarium became a reality, she would pay to have her husband’s ashes housed there. Weitz got plenty of emails from Cornhusker fans to the same effect.

When she blurted out her idea, Weitz did not know just how often fans spread the cremated remains of their friends and loved ones at college football venues across the country, mostly without permission. Choice Mutual, a company that offers insurance policies to cover end-of-life expenses, conducted a survey that asked Americans where they would want their ashes spread if they choose to be cremated.

The survey, published in July, listed the top choice in all 50 states. Sports venues topped the list in 11, including college football stadiums in Arkansas, Idaho, Michigan, North Carolina, Oklahoma and Wisconsin. Anthony Martin, owner and CEO of Choice Mutual, said in an email, “We were definitely surprised by the prevalence of sporting venues as the target. We assumed some sporting venues would show up, but not this many.”

“Let’s face it. Fan is short for fanatic,” said Chris Gerbasi, who helped spread the remains of his good friend, John Burr, at Michigan Stadium in 2005. “He was a diehard, no pun intended. It made perfect sense for him to want his ashes to be on the field. He would have laughed his ass off at us being able to achieve that.”


MOST SCHOOLS HAVE strict rules prohibiting the spreading of ashes onto playing surfaces, both to preserve the grass and also simply to limit trespassing. But when you are determined to complete a final wish, you simply find a way.

Like Gerbasi did. He and three others set out for Michigan Stadium in July 2005 to honor Burr, who died following complications from an accident at age 41. Gerbasi and Burr attended Michigan together in the 1980s and went to the 1998 Rose Bowl that clinched a national championship season for the Wolverines.

When Gerbasi was a student, Michigan Stadium was easy to enter. But when he and his companions arrived that summer night, they encountered one locked gate after another. They walked around the stadium, until, Gerbasi says, “It was almost like seeing the light.”

A bright light was coming from the east side of the stadium, where renovations were underway. They saw a way in, down the ramp where players walk from the locker room to the field, and made their way to the 50-yard line.

“I don’t get excited about too many things, but it was awe-inspiring for the four of us to be standing on the 50-yard line in an empty Michigan Stadium,” Gerbasi said.

Burr’s brother handed Gerbasi a bag with the ashes.

“There just happened to be a little gust of wind, and I kind of twirled the bag in the air a little bit, and all the ashes flew out, and the wind caught ’em, and they flew down the field,” Gerbasi said. “Looking back on it now, it was cool as hell. It was like somebody opened up this door for us.”

Parker Hollowell had a similar idea for his dad, Dean Hollowell, who died in 2015 following a car accident at age 72. Dean was a lifelong Ole Miss fan and took Parker to games his entire life. When his stepmom said his father was going to be cremated, Parker knew what he needed to do.

He waited until dusk one night in August that year and drove to Vaught-Hemingway Stadium, the place where he and his dad shared so many memories. A new field was being put in, and though workers were still around, nobody said a word to Hollowell and a friend as they made their way to the 50-yard line.

Hollowell said a few words to his dad as he spread the ashes, while his friend took a video.

“I thought it was a tribute to my dad,” Hollowell said. “That was our life, that’s what we’ve done as a family. Period. Now my dad’s got a 50-yard line seat. He’s right there with me when I go to games. I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

Having done it for his dad, Hollowell now has his final resting spot picked out.

“I am going to ask my son to put me in the end zone. Where Tre Harris scored on LSU [last year],” Hollowell said.

Ann and her husband, Johnny, had a similar conversation at their dinner table in North Carolina years ago. Ann, who asked that her last name not be used, cannot remember how they got on the topic, but they started discussing where they wanted to be buried.

Johnny asked to be cremated and have his ashes scattered in three spots. First, the beach. Easy enough.

Second, Carter-Finley Stadium, home to his beloved NC State Wolfpack. Slightly more challenging, but OK.

And, if possible, Kenan Stadium, home to North Carolina, as friend Theo Manos recalled, “so he could haunt those MFers.”

“I thought he was kidding,” Ann said. “But then I realized he was serious.”

Ann figured she would have time to plan it all out. But Johnny died unexpectedly at age 52 in 2007. A “total shock,” Ann said.

She decided she would sprinkle his ashes in their longtime tailgating spot outside Carter-Finley, a picturesque area filled with trees. They had a tight-knit tailgating group — some had been friends with Johnny since kindergarten. On the day they spread his ashes, they formed a circle, said a few prayers and then Ann placed his remains near a spruce tree.

The spot has become a resting place for several others, including their son, Allen, who died in 2017. “I thought that was a good sentimental thing to do,” Ann said. Johnny’s sister, Nancy, also has some of her remains there, as well as another tailgater in their group.

She noted the spruce tree “shot up out of nowhere” after placing Johnny there. But last year, NC State cut down many trees in their tailgating area — including that beloved spruce. Ann still brings flowers to every home game and places them on the spot where she sprinkled the remains of her husband and son. The group pours a drink on the ashes and says, “Here’s to you, Johnny.”

As for Kenan Stadium, let’s just say Johnny did make his way onto the field. How and when, well, Ann says that must remain a mystery. But it should be noted NC State is 6-2 in Chapel Hill since Johnny died.


WHEN JASON FAIRES was in his first year as Oklahoma director of athletic fields and grounds in 2019, he spotted a man in the south end zone holding a paper grocery bag, without gloves on, taking handfuls of something unidentifiable and dropping it on the ground.

“I start to lose it, and ‘I’m like, ‘What the hell are you doing?'” said Faires, now golf course superintendent at Dornick Hills Country Club in Ardmore, Oklahoma. “He goes, ‘This is my dad. Just spreading his ashes out here, like he wanted me to.’ I’m like, ‘Did you get permission to do this?’ He didn’t think he needed permission, and he’s just dropping clumps. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen ashes. It’s not just ashes, it’s frickin’ bone and everything.

“So out of respect for him, I said, ‘OK.’ As soon as he left, I had to go out there and kick him around, spread him out. I felt weird doing that. I started telling that story at a meeting, and they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, that happens a lot.'”

Plenty of field managers across conferences have stories about encountering fans evading gates, waiting out security personnel or downright trespassing in their quest to make it onto the field to spread ashes. While it is not technically illegal to scatter ashes, most states require permission be granted if remains will be spread on private property — like football stadiums — or on public property or national parks. Some states require a permit to spread ashes in public areas.

“When I worked at LSU in 2007, it was about 2:30 in the morning after the Virginia Tech game and we saw someone leaning up against the goal post,” said Brandon Hardin, now the superintendent of sports turf at Mississippi State. “We were like, ‘Hey, what’s this guy doing?’ He had a book in his hand, and he opened it and dumped ashes out on the ground and had his moment. Then he turned around and walked off. Never saw him again.”

At Texas A&M, too, where Nick McKenna serves as assistant athletics director of sports fields. He recalled the time the Yell Leaders at Texas A&M had a former leader’s ashes spread at Kyle Field without permission, upsetting their longtime facility manager.

“So he had the head field manager go out, vacuum them up, put them in a jar, and he took them to the Yell Leader and said, “Y’all left someone out there on the field the other day. Just wanted to return him to you,” McKenna said.

Another time, someone had spread ashes in the outfield before a baseball game.

“I remember having to talk with our center fielder because there was this cloud ring of remains,” McKenna said. “He was like, what in the heck? I was like, ‘You’re out there basically playing in a ring of death.'”

As all three turf managers explained, fans are unaware of how much goes into caring for the fields across all their athletics venues. That includes resodding the fields after a set amount of time. Oklahoma, for example, resodded the field last summer. Texas A&M does it every 12 to 15 years.

“So the majority of these relatives who have been spread on that field are down on the left side of the driving range at the OU golf course because that’s where all the material goes when we redo the field,” Faires said. “You don’t say that or anything, but you kind of feel bad for them.”

When grounds crews see ashes that have been left on a field, they quickly work to limit the damage. The ashes are either vacuumed up or blown around with a backpack blower. Some will run water through them to flush them through. What grounds crews want to avoid is their sophisticated and expensive lawn mowers picking up bone fragments, which could damage the equipment.

Hardin says he has gained a newfound perspective on spreading ashes to fulfill a loved ones’ request, after he did it for his dad last November in the Arkansas mountains.

“It’s very special to the person that does it, so we try to be very understanding,” Hardin said. “We tell people no, and then they still find a way to do it, because it was somebody’s last wish. People need that closure.

“It’s not going to hurt the grass, but if you ask certain people within organizations or schools, it gives you the heebie-jeebies knowing that it’s there and visible.”

That makes the columbarium idea all the more appealing to Weitz. She has tried to brainstorm other ideas than having it under the field — could it be outside the stadium? In the tunnel leading to the field?

“These responses I got after the meeting said to me this is creative and there are ways to do these things,” Weitz said. “So it really encouraged me in a lot of ways, but I haven’t come up with any new ideas.”

Putting a columbarium under the field might not be practical, but burial grounds for mascots do exist both inside and outside stadiums. In fact, Mex, a brindle bulldog who was Oklahoma’s mascot in the 1920s, is buried in a casket under the football stadium. Bully I, Mississippi State’s first mascot, is buried on stadium grounds. Other Bully mascots have had their ashes spread on the football field.

Texas A&M has a burial ground for its Reveille mascots on the north end of Kyle Field. A statue of the SMU mascot, Peruna, is on the burial site of Peruna I outside Ford Stadium. Sanford Stadium has a mausoleum dedicated to its UGA mascots.

McKenna remembers reading about Weitz and her columbarium idea over the summer.

“I don’t know where you would put it logistically, but as somebody who’s encountered people spreading ashes and understands how often it happens and the nuances, it’s not the worst idea in the world,” he said.

Weitz will keep thinking about it. Others will keep finding ways to honor their loved ones and their passion for college football. Loved ones such as Fred “The Head” Miller, who once asked former Florida State alumni association president Jim Melton if his head could be buried underneath the Seminole logo at midfield.

“True story,” Melton says.

Miller played fullback at Florida State from 1973-76 and then became the ultimate super fan — painting the Seminoles logo on his bald head for every home game, beginning in 1981. Hence his nickname.

He died in 1992 at age 38 of a heart attack and was cremated. Miller asked his family to scatter his ashes at Doak Campbell Stadium.

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