This story was excerpted from Anne Rogers’ Royals Beat newsletter. To read the full newsletter, click here. And subscribe to get it regularly in your inbox.

José Alguacil spent over a decade in the Giants organization, and as a young coach from Venezuela, he kept hearing about one name, one Giant among the rest, arguably the greatest baseball player to ever live.

Willie Mays.

At first, Alguacil didn’t want to bother Mays when he came around the organization.

“That was Willie Mays,” Alguacil, now the Royals' infield coach, said this week at the Oakland Coliseum. “How am I supposed to approach him?”

Slowly, though, Alguacil began to greet Mays and started joking around with him, as well as asking him for stories and advice. The two built a relationship as Alguacil moved throughout different roles in San Francisco's organization.

“He is a legend,” Alguacil said. “He knew so much about the game. And I tried to just pick his brain and ask for stories, how it was for him. I am really blessed to be able to say I knew him.”

Alguacil and the Royals were in the Bay Area this week when the baseball world learned of Mays’ passing at the age of 93, just two days before Major League Baseball’s game at Rickwood Field in Birmingham, Ala. The Giants announced Mays’ death moments before first pitch of the Royals-A’s series opener on Tuesday, and the A’s put the announcement up on the scoreboard and held a moment of silence. That’s how many Royals, including Alguacil, found out what happened.

The next day, Alguacil walked from the team hotel in San Francisco to Oracle Park, where Mays’ statue stands outside of the ballpark.

“The whole baseball world hurt when the news came,” Alguacil said. “But he lived a long time. Giants fans were lucky to have Willie around, because he was coming to the ballpark for a long time. Baseball was lucky to have Willie around. He always had a smile on his face. He was always willing to share a story, anything. He was the greatest.”

Like many others, one of the first things that comes to Alguacil’s mind when he thinks about Mays is his hands. They were “humongous,” Alguacil said, and Mays made sure you gave him a firm handshake.

“If you didn’t, he would say, ‘That’s it? How do you think you’re going to hit if you don’t have a good grip?’” Alguacil said. “One time, I asked him who the best pitcher he ever faced was, and he looked at me like, ‘What are you talking about? I’m Willie.’”

One of Alguacil’s best memories of Mays was in Spring Training, when several Giants Hall of Famers came to talk at both the Minor League and big league camps. They never shied away from their stories.

“The conversations that these guys had, it was amazing,” Alguacil said. “To hear the questions the players would ask them, it was something really fun to be a part of. Coming from Venezuela, I never thought I would be around Hall of Famers like that. Talking baseball, they mentioned my name, they knew what I did. They made me feel part of the organization. It was really amazing.

“Willie loved to talk to people and share stories. He loved to hear about how you’re doing, what you needed from him.”

Alguacil always made sure to introduce any of his players to Mays when he was around, and then just let them talk to each other. Hearing snippets of Mays’ conversations with outfielders left Alguacil in awe.

“He told them how he prepared, how he read swings, how he took his route, how he improved even late in his career,” Alguacil said. “The outfielders listened to his every word.

“That was just who Willie was.”