When I think about Mike, three seemingly contradictory images come to mind. I think about how he would always ask me for news about my brother, Paul, who had moved away to Portland. His face would light up with that big, warm smile of his. The other image that comes to mind is him rubbing dirt into his hands and violently throwing it down to the ground to psych himself up before a big pitch. He had this ferocious intensity while on the mound that was rather frightening. The third image is the sweet and earnest look on his face when he sang, “Mandy.”
When I first met Mike, I thought he was a private man. He didn’t talk much about himself. But over time, I slowly came to realize that, although he was quiet, at every moment, Mike was fully engaged. He always gave of himself completely. It didn’t matter if he was asking about an old friend, pitching with the game on the line, or singing his heart out; Mike was going to show who he was with all his warmth, intensity, and passion. I have always respected and admired him for that; now I will deeply miss him because of it.
--Michael
"Big Delicious"
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