Even though I grew up a Mets fan, Phil Rizzuto is one of the people responsible for my deep love of the game of baseball. When you listened to him broadcast a Yankee game, his enthusiasm for baseball was infectious. There was no such thing as a boring game when Scooter was behind the microphone. If there was a lull in the action, Phil would tell a story about his playing days or the canolis his wife bought, he'd use his broadcast partners as straight men for his jokes, send out birthday, anniversary and get well wishes to fans, and overall just entertain anyone listening for the three or four hours we tuned him in every night. When he used to call his longtime boothmate Bill White a "Huckleberry", it was the funniest thing my little ten year old self ever heard. It was like watching the game with a funny uncle doing play by play. Sure, he would get player names or the result of a play wrong from time to time, but it was part of his charm. He may have only been five and a half feet tall, but he was a giant to millions of New York baseball fans.

It is said a lot, but there will never be another one like him. Broadcasters these days take themselves and the game itself way too seriously. More often than not, when announcers attempt to be funny or kid around with each other, it seems forced and contrived. Phil realized baseball was a game and it should be fun to play, fun to watch, fun to talk about and he was excited to be at the ballpark every night. He always came across as a genuine person that would be no different face to face as he was on the air and that's where the great affection for him from the public came from.

Being in attendance with my Yankee fan sister when he threw out the first pitch by reenacting the Jeter flip play was a treat. It encapsulated everything I loved about the guy. It was clever, it was funny and he did it to make us smile.

I was sad to hear the news of his death, but his was a life well lived. We were lucky to have him.

See you on the other side, Scooter.