Ask me, and I’ll tell you how I remember like it’s yesterday, the trip down Interstate 71 on a sweet summer evening lo those many years ago. A moment you wish you could bottle up and save for … well, forever. A moment a young man never forgets, scarce removed from eighteen glorious holes on a beautifully manicured tract of earth with his favorite golfing buddy—his Dad. How the subject of baseball arose I can’t recall. What I do remember is reminiscing on the great Al Michaels; how crushed I was when Al left to become the voice of the San Francisco Giants, and how nobody would ever take his place.
Reds Broadcaster Marty Brennaman’s Titanic Struggle
