My parent's neighbor passed away a few days ago. I'll refer to him in this post as Mr. A. Mr. A was a very nice man, a big guy who was gregarious and fun. I got to know him a little bit over the years, growing up I saw him when I would visit his son Mike to play sports or trade cassette tapes. I'd see him here or there around town in my adult life too, even as he aged he didn't lose that positive attitude. He was a great guy.
Mr A. had a love of sports and he really loved the local teams from San Francisco. Of my assorted memories of Mr. A., my strongest memory is a collection of moments where I didn't even see him. When baseball or football season came around, every warm Sunday you could hear Mr A. listening to a sports game on the radio as he relaxed on his back porch. I could hear him talking and the radio playing over the fence from my own back yard. There was something very pure about his passion for sports and listening to him luxuriate to a game had an infectious sort of contentment to it.
The best media tribute I can think of for the man is the moment that every 49ers fan in the 80s cherished. "The Catch". Goodbye Mr. A., you will be missed.