I grew up watching Marlin Perkins and Jacques Cousteau, always out there risking their necks in the wild to bring amazing footage into our living room. It was all tame compared to today’s wild TV kingdom.

Now, because I have a 5-year-old son, I watch a lot of Steve Irwin, the “Crocodile Hunter,” as well as Austin Stevens, the guy who never met a deadly snake he didn’t pick up, and of course Jeff Corwin, the goofy Animal Planet adventurer who once stood in a swamp amid what seemed like dozens of crocodiles and seemed to do so more calmly than I cross a busy street.

Chasing animals for today’s TV audience is more dangerous than ever. There seems to be no limit to the insane antics required to make 30 minutes of TV that can compete with reality shows and the gazillion other options.

When you watched Irwin, a big part of the allure was you always had it in the back of your mind that he might slip up, get to close, fail to pull his hand away quick enough, and lose a battle with a crocodile. Instead, a stingray sliced his heart in one of the most unlikely and bizarre deaths Irwin could ever have fathomed. Scientists say there are fewer than 20 known cases of death-by-stingray.

While Irwin probably had little fear that he would die in the ocean on this day, he did know the overall risks of his job. One one level, I always thought he was nuts for taking them. But then again, he had one of those jobs everyone either a) wishes they had or b) wishes they had the guts to try. And Steve Irwin did something great, helping to foster a bug in my son’s head that he’ll one day be a scientist (snake catcher is the current thinking).

From both of us, Mr. Irwin, thank you.