A Moment at the Houston Baseball Dinner

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."