Ron Santo, the way I remember him.

"Well would you look at that." A classic line used in the wake of a great play. The humor in the line being, of course, that on the radio it was hard to appreciate what Ron was seeing, but you couldn't help but smile at times like these. It was like listening to your quirky old uncle recant tales of a simpler time with context lost over the years. Always enjoying the company and allowing our minds to relax back to an age when life ran a little slower and worries didn't weigh so heavily on the sole. This was the gift of Ron Santo, to remind us that it was okay to be passionate about a game without forgetting that at the end of the day, it was just a game. To remind us of important things in life while giving so much of oneself to the betterment of others, be it his quirks on the air or his unfaltering support to find a cure for diabetes, his phenomenal career he had with the Cubs, or his unwavering belief that one day Cubs fans everywhere would know it was all worth the wait.

I sit here typing in solace with Cubs nation on this day as we celebrate the bitter sweetness of a great man obtaining the ultimate sign of respect and gaining entry into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Ron Santo had an impact that spanned several generations for the game of baseball, and in particular the game of baseball.

My story begins in the twilight of his contributions to the game, not having lived in the dead ball era, I developed my love for players like Derrick Lee and Aramis Ramirez before learning the history of the people that were a part of the team and organization I was falling in love with.

I first fell in love with Santo living in central Iowa some 8 years ago. My wife, a die hard Cubs fan, rekindled a childhood love the game and for the cubs in the years following the infamous '03 season. It's easy to be a Cubs fan in Iowa where WGN TV airs most of the games, but for those days a regional broadcast would leave you watching a Cardinals or Royals game in the Des Moines area, we had the ability to turn on our radios to WGN Radio and turn off the outside world for a few hours. I remember grabbing some ice slushies from the local Sonic store, going home, and laughing as much as we'd cheer along with Pat and Ron. The best televised games always featured Ron doing something with Len and Bob in the pregame, wether it was telling his story of coffee being spilled during his first radio broadcast, or just laughing alongside some of the other Cubs great. His personality just poured through the radio and through the television screen.

The exercise of trying to choose your personally most powerful Cub memory including Ron involves reflecting on moments like Ron laying a smooch on Wood during 2008's Division Championship celebration, or his fantastic speech at the Friendly Confines where he said, in reference to the flag displaying his retired number 10, "This is my Hall of Fame.". But the ultimate moment for me was a few years back where while on my way to grab a hot dog sometime during the 5th in a game against the Marlins, I caught a glimpse of the man himself, it took a moment to know who I was looking at he was leaving an elevator at Wrigley in an odd sort of waddle. It was not a particularly eventful moment, the ground did not split open, nor was there a bright flash of light over the horizon, it was a simple and altruistic moment for realizing how close you came to someone you idolize so much. It gave him a realism to me that no amount of story telling or shared laughs can fully encompass through the radio waves.

In conclusion, I don't doubt that Cooperstown is a warmer and happier place for ,finally, having opened their doors to this legend, but his heart and spirit will always be dwelling somewhere between the broadcast booth and the bricks and ivy at Wrigley Field. Probably near the third base bag, suspended a few feet in the air between a pair of clicking heels.