[TRF]

My grandfather got me hooked on the Reds around 1980. After some problems in my family I ended up moving in with him in '82. My grandparents were diehard fans, but my grandfather was who really got me listening to the game. He hated watching it on television. We'd sit on his patio in Winton Place, drink Sprite and rail against the opposing team. Especially if it was the Dodgers. My grandfather reminded me of Joe, and when he passed away, Joe reminded me of my grandfather. I don't have much family left, and this is one more link to my home that is gone. As much as I harp on Marty for how he does his job, he's all that I have left to remind me of home, to remind me of sweltering summer days on my grandfathers patio drinking sprite.

g'bye Joe.