Barring any unforeseen circumstances, my column about the passing last night of baseball icon Buck O'Neil will run in Sunday's Sun. The fact that I had never had the chance to meet him made it difficult to write, but it also made it important to write that. I had been looking forward to the Ravens' game at K.C. on Dec. 10, as an opportunity to make a second visit to the Negro Leagues Museum, to see where the museum was expanding to a historical building across the street and naming it after O'Neil - and to meet O'Neil himself. Once word trickled out last month that he had entered the hospital, I had a feeling it would not happen. Even though he led a hell of a life, 94 years worth, it still was painful to hear the news last night.

Here's the Kansas City Star's coverage of his passing. a transcript of Ken Burns' interview with O'Neil in the Baseball documentary. Here's where you can go to learn about the Negro Leagues Museum project. Here's a way to share your memories of him through the museum. Here's his quickly-updated bio on the Negro Leagues Baseball Players Association site.

Sadly, it slipped past many of us (well, me, actually) that another important figure had died this week: Peter Norman, who as silver medalist in the 200 at the 1968 Olympics stood on the stand as Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists. This is the obituary in the Sydney paper, in his native Australia. Mike Wise wrote this commemoration in the Washington Post last week.

Before they all climbed the podium that night, Smith and Carlos gave Norman a button with the letter "OPHR'' - Olympic Project for Human Rights - and he wore it as he stood for the national anthem. The three remained friends over the years, and a year ago this month, Norman traveled from Australia to San Jose for the dedication of a statue of Smith and Carlos at the pair's alma mater. Norman spoke, and then posed on the portion of the statue's replica of the medals stand left empty by the sculptor.

Rest in peace, Buck O'Neil and Peter Norman.