I never met the man, and I'm always going to regret that. The one thing that keeps getting mentioned over and over, in every tribute and speech, is that Harry Kalas was the most unfailingly polite, kind, gracious, decent, generous man ever, and I feel filled with an odd gnawing jealousy that I never got to meet him, shake his hand, or say thank you. He would record your voice mail message (!) or your wedding announcements (!!!) if you asked. He didn't have to; he was a legend, an icon, and he could have just as easily been a giant jerk. But as Wheels recounted in an anecdote on Monday, the thing he learned from Harry was this: it's not that hard. It just isn't that hard to be cool to people, not that hard to shake a hand or smile or say something nice, and my god, I just hope we can all learn that. I have, I think. Especially now, in these weird times, in this wonderful and troubling world.

My favorite Harry moment is one that I haven't heard mentioned. It was on September 30, 2007, the day the Phillies got into the postseason for the first time in 14 years. They needed a win and a Mets loss to do it. The Mets were already losing 7-0 at the start of the game, and the glee and wonder in Harry's voice as he reported that at the top of the broadcast was unmistakable. Now, Harry deserves a lot of credit for always being a consummate professional; he just simply never had a bad thing to say about literally any player or team (not even Endy Chavez!), even though he probably had a right to - the man saw more awful Phillies teams than probably anybody. But his respect for even the most incompetent scrub player, and the opponent, was unmatched. He never gave into the endless Phillies-Mets bickering like the rest of us (me included).

But on that day, Harry wasn't a broadcaster, he was just a fan, like me. That remarkable September run had culminated in a totally incredible day, a totally incredible game. At the top of the ninth, Harry said this: "Well, we just need six more outs, three here and three at Shea." And I loved that, because he was right, and because you could hear the joy in his voice, his total confidence that it was going to happen... and... and... it was just great.

Wow. What a guy.

Harry's the role model, you know, moreso than any player. He's the guy you want to be. Well, maybe not the part where he smoked like a chimney for 50 years. But otherwise: seriously, let's all try to be more like Harry, what do say?

Thanks, Harry. We love you.