He went to work where a statue of him stood outside the stadium, his place of business for more than a half century. He would not live to see the statue hauled away.

The other never had a statue erected in his honor, although some said there should be one, bronze or otherwise, at the doorstep of the Baseball Hall of Fame. He would live to see himself spurned by the Hall five times.

Joe Paterno and Marvin Miller, a couple of New Yorkers, were bookends to the year's losses in sports — the football coach dying at 85 in January, the union leader at 95 a few days shy of December.

The year's obituaries in sports also came with a tragic soundtrack of gunfire: Junior Seau, Hector Camacho, Jovan Belcher. More quietly, baseball now moves on without Gary Carter and basketball without Jack Twyman and Rick Majerus. Big names in boxing like Angelo Dundee and Carmen Basilio also were lost.

Baseball became a little less joyful without Carter, "The Kid" gone at 57 from a brain tumor. A Hall of Fame catcher mostly with the Mets and Expos, Carter was a commander behind the plate who never lost sight of what a pleasure it was to play the game. Johnny Pesky, a lifetime .307 hitter and part of the Boston Red Sox's DNA, died at 92, but Pesky's Pole in right field in Fenway Park remains in play.

Lee MacPhail, the longtime executive who ruled in the George Brett Pine Tar case, died at 95, the oldest-living member of the Baseball Hall of Fame. Bill "Moose" Skowron, the sturdy first baseman for the great Yankee teams of the 1950s and '60s, was 81. Pedro Bourbon, 65, was a reliever who helped the Reds win two straight World Series in the 1970s; Eddie Yost, a third baseman who made a fine art of drawing walks, was 86. Also leaving the game were two men who saw a lot of balls and strikes — umpires Marty Springstead and Harry Wendelstedt.

Basketball is poorer for Twyman's death at 78. He was a critical piece of the Cincinnati Royals, and in 1960 averaged more than 31 points.

The NFL is now without two compelling figures straight out of central casting.

Ben Davidson, 72, was a menacing 6-foot-8 defensive end with a handlebar mustache, epitomizing everything nasty of those Oakland Raiders of yore. He later became a TV pitchman and actor.

Alex Karras, 77, was a defensive lineman for the Detroit Lions, and one mean hombre. He ceded no ground to Commissioner Pete Rozelle when suspended for gambling in 1963. Much later, afflicted with dementia, he joined thousands in a lawsuit against the NFL over head injuries. Karras showed a comic touch in the "Monday Night Football" booth and in movies, notably "Blazing Saddles." Not everyone levels a horse with a roundhouse punch.

Art Modell, one of the NFL's most important owners, died at 87. He moved his Browns from Cleveland to Baltimore, a decision that shadowed him the rest of his life. Darrell Royal, 88, was all folksy in giving football the wishbone offense while winning two national championships at Texas.

Two tough running backs passed on: Alex Webster, who starred for the New York Giants in the '50s and '60s and later coached them, was 80; Steve Van Buren, the heart of the Philadelphia Eagles who played on title teams in 1948 and '49, was 91. R.C. Owens, the San Francisco 49ers receiver who soared over defenders and gave sports the phrase alley-oop, was 77. Steve Sabol, 69, was half of the father-son team at NFL Films, which recast Sunday games as battleground collisions of mythic forces.

The clatter of pins silenced for a moment with Don Carter's death at 85. With his hunched shoulders and cocked elbow, Carter was known as "Mr. Bowling," and with the game spreading across the country in the 1960s he was the sport's first superstar.

In the 1970s, Giorgio Chinaglia, 65, commanded the stage of the North American Soccer League. The great goal scorer played on the Cosmos with Pele and Franz Beckenbauer, and comported himself as if starring in a grand Italian opera. When asked after games why he did this or that, he would stand by his locker in his elegant bathrobe and majestically proclaim: "I am Chinaglia."

Sarah Burke was a pioneering freestyle skier from Canada and a four-time Winter X Games champion. She crashed during a superpipe training run in Utah and died nine days later at 29.

Greco-Roman wrestler Jeff Blatnick, 55, was diagnosed with lymphoma in 1982. Two years later, he had a gold medal around his neck at the Los Angeles Olympics. He went on to become a motivational speaker and Olympic commentator.

Beano Cook, 81, knew all about commentary. He was the studio voice of ESPN college football, his knowledge of the sport vast, as was his repertoire of jokes and stories. He breathed the game in all its school colors.

And all of sports — from anyone who ever broke a sweat in a health club or basement workout room — owes a large debt to William Staub. He redesigned the treadmill, taking the equipment out of doctors' offices and putting them in homes and gyms. He was 96 and was on a treadmill a couple of months before he died.

Said son Gerald Staub: "I don't think he thought it was going to be quite as big as it was."