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This one can't do anything but hurt right now. Let's make sure, though, to accept the inevitable with full-hearted gratitude for more good stories and more good days at the ballpark than any one person can ever be asked to give us again.
The Brewers announced the passing of the greatest single figure in the history of their franchise, and one of the lions of professional baseball itself, on Thursday morning. Bob Uecker, beloved player, broadcaster, pitch man and more, is dead.
I reiterate what I wrote last month, for I meant it then and it's not diminished now: As heartbreaking as it is to lose Uecker before he could call a Brewers World Series win, we are all better and brighter for having had him as the voices of our summers (and often our autumns), wherever we have been and whichever teams we have rooted for over the last 60-plus years. His catchphrase is bigger, in cheeky signage in the rafters at American Family Field, than any championship banner would be, and that's only fitting. Uecker himself—the personality, the voice, the connective tissue across generations and celebrations and the unworried consolation on untold numbers of bad days for bad teams—is worth more than any of those banners would be.
We'll have more remembrances of Uecker in the days ahead. For now, please share yours, and join us all in both mourning and celebrating Ueck.
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