In the fourth quarter, towards the end of each Buckeye game, the beat writers come down from the press box and congregate on the field in the Southwest corner of Ohio Stadium. Usually it is when the game is in hand, which is often in the Horseshoe. They all show up at the same time, watching the game end and readying themselves for the scurry to the post-game interview room in the Southeast Tower of the Stadium.

It was during one of these scrums that I first saw Larry Larson. I didn't know Larry then, or what he did, other than he obviously was with the WTVN crew, and he stood out for two reasons. The first reason was his trademark bowtie. The second was that, unlike many of his counterparts, even though he was obviously "somebody," I observed he wasn't jaded and seemed like a genuine nice guy. He didn't have that air of cynicism or self-importance or aloofness that you see in some of his counterparts today. Eventually I figured out that Larry indeed "was someone" and introduced myself. I think I even got his phone number. Then Larry's wife got cancer, and I got busy, and well I can't interview every person in the world for this book and I have plenty of material - so we never connected.

That's too bad, and my loss, and my reader's loss. Larry Larson retired last week and in reading Larry Larson: One of a Kind, Brandon Castel's nice tribute in The-Ozone, I realized how much I had dropped the ball. Old school. Sincere. Honest. That's how Brandon described him, and it fit well the man I had observed. Gee, we sure could use some more of those types these days and I sure wish I had called on him.

Larry's last show was last weekend. Local sports figures apparently flooded his phone lines, calling in to wish him well. Among the callers were Luke Fickell and Jim Tressel. Now I wonder, how many sportswriters Jim Tressel would call today and wish well ? That he did says a lot about the life of Larry Larson.