Written By: Ben Cosgrove
The greater the athlete, the tougher it is to leave the arena. It was certainly the case for Yankees center fielder Mickey Mantle. A tremendous natural talent, Mantle became a dominant force on the diamond almost as soon as he joined the Yankees in 1951. He would go on to win three MVP awards and the 1956 Triple Crown, all the while making a name for himself with towering home runs. His purported 565-foot moonshot in 1953 gave birth to the phrase “tape-measure home run.” Mantle also delivered big when the stakes were highest, leading the Yankees to seven championships. To this day he still holds World Series records for career home runs (18), RBIs (40) and total bases (123).
While the young Mantle was electrifying, his career was plagued by injuries great and small until, by the time he was in his 30s, his legs were so thoroughly wrapped and bandaged on game days that he literally hobbled to the plate to hit. His heavy drinking also contributed to his physical decline. Mantle wrote in a 1994 story about his drinking habits in Sports Illustrated that he began to lean on alcohol during his second season in the majors, after his father died from Hodgkin’s disease.
The image by LIFE staff photographer John Dominis that is featured in this story was taken in 1965, when Mantle’s skills were clearly slipping. Mantle had just stumbled through a lousy at-bat, and he tossed his helmet in frustration. It is the kind of action shot you rarely see, and one that captures the anguish of a sports hero in decline. It is no surprise that this resonant photo is one of the top sellers in the LIFE print store.
Dominis’s photo ran with a story in LIFE magazine titled “Last Innings of Greatness.” The image was taken during a meaningless game midway through the team’s disappointing 1965 season (the Yankees finished below .500 for the first time in 40 years). The story began with with a description of Mantle’s helmet toss and then offered a quote from the fading star: “It isn’t any fun when things are like this,” Mantle told LIFE. “I’m only 33, but I feel like I’m 40.”
Despite his frustrations Mantle kept at it for three more years until 1968, when his batting average slipped to an anemic .237, and that was his last year in the game.
In 1995 Mantle died of liver cancer at age 63. On the occasion of his death, Richard Hoffer wrote an obituary in Sports Illustrated that attempted to explain the meaning of Mantle to those who witnessed his beautiful prime:
For generations of men, he’s the guy, has been the guy, will be the guy. And what does that mean exactly? A woman beseeches Mantle, who survived beyond his baseball career as a kind of corporate greeter, to make an appearance, to surprise her husband. Mantle materializes at some cocktail party, introductions are made, and the husband weeps in the presence of such fantasy made flesh. It means that, exactly.
Dominus’ photo captures the moment of the fantasy coming to an end for the man who was fortunate enough to live it.
Mickey Mantle tossed his batting helmet in disgust after a lousy at-bat, Yankee Stadium, 1965.
John Dominis/Life Picture Collection/Shutterstock
