Richard C. worked at the same institution, though with a special program, so our professional paths didn't cross, but our avocational paths did.
Richard, ever smiling, ever cheerful, would pause to talk baseball with me in the hallways. We talked major leagues, minor leagues, collegiate, scholastic, whatever. He kept me posted about his son's team and kept after me to become an umpire for the girls' league.
He was a Tigers fan, the Tigers played in the first World Series game I ever saw, we shared an interest in the same team. I commiserated with him when they were doing poorly, I celebrated with him as they roared this summer.
Richard unexpectedly died this past week. One of my first thoughts on hearing the news was that he couldn't die now, not with the Tigers so close.
I was already planning to root for the Tigers in the Series this year, but it will be with a sense of bittersweet.
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