I had taken a little break from the festivities and was headed back to the ballroom. As I turned the corner, I looked up. You couldn't miss him if you tried. "Mr. Richard," I said as I extended my hand. He grasped my hand firmly yet gently and smiled down at me.
I reminded him about when we had met previously, several years back, and what our conversation had been. "I never saw anyone throw that hard and that fast," I had said. His shoulders went back. He raised his chin. He was every bit of his 6'8" frame as he then replied, "And you never will."
We chatted a moment about the mutual acquaintances that had caused our paths to cross that one time and then went our separate ways. As he walked away, I looked back at him and said, "I'm just waiting for them to retire your number." He didn't stop. He didn't turn around. He didn't flinch. But as I watched those massive shoulders clad in blue retreat down the hallway, he raised that once all-powerful right hand and with a brief wave for punctuation, these words came back to me. "So am I."