"Francisco Cabrera steps to the plate, two on, two out in the bottom of the ninth. Boy, the Braves could sure use a hit here. BASE HIT, LEFT FIELD!! ONE RUN IS IN, HERE COMES BREAM, HE ISSSSSSS....SAFE! BRAVES WIN, BRAVES WIN, BRAVES WIN,......BRAVES WIN, BRAVES WIN!!!!!!"

     Without a doubt, that legendary call by Skip Caray is hands down the greatest play by play call in the history of sports, at least it is in my book. I still get chill bumps when I see the play and here Skip screaming with joy as the infamous Sid Bream turned the corner at third and chugged home, barely sliding across home plate just ahead of the tag and right into the waiting arms of David Justice who was on deck and frantically waving for Sid to get down. Bream wasn't a fast runner by any stretch of the imagination, but on that night in Atlanta, he was just fast enough.

     I remember my family fussing at me after I had woke them up as I was screaming and dancing and doing back flips all over my living room. I couldn't believe it. The Braves, my Braves, were going to the World Series. All the losing was over. I felt like I was a part of it and in a way I guess I was along with millions of other long suffering Braves fans. It wasn't only the team that had gone from worst to first. We had gone from worst to first, together. And, oh what poetic justice it was to see a younger and much smaller version of Barry Bonds sitting in left field after the play with his head down. After all, it was his throw to the plate that was just a split second late. Run, Sid, Run I screamed at the top of my voice. And he did, sliding home just in time, setting off the celebration.

     Needless to say, I was very sad to hear about the passing of Skip Caray on Sunday. Together with Ernie Johnson Sr. and Pete Van Wieren, Skip helped put the Braves on the map as TBS and Ted Turner revolutionized cable TV by showing the Braves every night. No matter how hard your day was throughout the summer months, you could always look forward to coming home and turning on Skip, Pete and Ernie each and every night, watch a little baseball and see things through their very unique perspective. They set the standard for baseball and sports on cable TV.

     There are countless times when I would be up late watching another Braves late inning comback, long after I should have been in bed. But, there was no way that I could turn it off and miss whatever was to come next. Because the Braves always seemed to come back or pull one out in the end and Skip and the boys were always there to describe it to me and give me some insight into the inner workings of the game and the team.

     I felt as though I knew each one of them personally, after all I listened to them almost every night. So when I first became a sportswriter, you can imagine the thrill I had the first time I walked into the Braves clubhouse. And later on, up in the pressbox, getting to meet and talk to Skip, Pete and Ernie. I use to get a table as close to them as I could in the Cafeteria before the game and just sit and listen in on all the stories. Skip was always the life of the party as he told one story after another.

     I remember being a little embarassed the first time I spoke to Pete, I said hello Pete, just like we were long lost friends, and of course he didn't know me from Adam's housecat. He looked up and said hello, with this look on his face like, "Do I know you?"

     A few minutes later when I had the opportunity to shake hands with Skip, I decided to try another approach. I said, "Nice to meet you Mr. Caray, I'm Bryan Grisham." He almost pulled me down as he shook my hand, smiling and saying with that always quick wit, "Mr. Caray lives in Chicago, I'm Skip." Again, I was embarassed, but happy. I said hello Skip, and he returned, "That's better, good to meet you Bryan, where you from kid?" I told him I was from Cleveland, just up the road from Chattanooga, and he said, "Yeah, I've been through Chattanooga. Seems like I knew a littl gal that was from Chattanooga once, but that's another story for another time," he said with a wink and a big laugh. And just like that, he slapped me on the back and said, "See ya kid." That was the extent of my conversation with Skip, but it's something that I will never forget.

     When I first heard the news of his passing on Monday morning, I was immediately sad. I felt like I had lost a close friend. I felt like I had known him for years, and I guess in a way I did. While in reality, I had only talked to him one time for about a minute or a minute and a half. The sadness quickly turned to fond memories of all those nights in the 90's when I would settle in for a night of Braves baseball. It was a great time and I'm glad I was a part of it.

     As I watch the news reports and all the people talk about him, I get some of the same feelings that they conveyed. Baseball has lost an original and it is a huge loss.
Thanks Skip, thanks for all the wonderful memories. Rest in Peace.

     As always, thanks for reading and may God bless.