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I came home late last night from a meeting and saw that Gary Carter had died.  My first thoughts were about how much I thought he was the next best-in-the-game after J. Bench declined. By '79, the year I graduated from college, Carter was Bench's equal. 
When I was a kid, Bench was always one of my favorites, maybe my one favorite who wasn't a Met.  I'm sure that my being a Little League/Babe Ruth catcher had something to do with that.  It was natural for me, then, to pass on that feeling for Carter. He became one of my two or three favorite players. 
G. Carter was a warrior, in the sense of being a battling, tenacious, Mr. Dirt type of competitor on the field who put on the mask and chest protector nearly every day.  But I always had the feeling that off the field he was indeed a hale fellow, well met.   Carter's next to last year was Pudge Rodriguez's first.  Bench to Carter to Pudge and you cover 1967-2012. It hasn't quite the  ring of Tinkers to Evers to Chance but it certainly has a luster the other can't quite match.  Doc, for those of us fortunate enough to be able to remember him, let's count our lucky stars that we got to watch "The Kid" play. 
Godspeed, Gary Carter.