Growing up in Missouri, I listened to a lot of St. Louis Cardinals baseball games on the radio. They were all called by Jack Buck, who passed away yesterday. Since I was fairly isolated in the country, playing basebal with other people was pretty rare, so I had to play my own games with a rubber ball against the side of our shed. The shed was the batsman, and I was the pitcher and fielders. But I wasn’t so much imitating the players (except for Ozzie – trying to do his summersaulting diving catches were just all out fun) as imitating Jack’s play by play. Out loud, even. I thought of him during my own brief stint in radio, though my play by plays of the local parades weren’t near Buck’s quality. He’ll be missed.