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Grandpa Lally.

I've never really faced death. No close relative of mine had ever died, until today.

My maternal grandfather, who was (of course) a huge Red Sox fan, passed away early this morning. He was a decent, caring man whose dry wit never failed to bring a smile to those he loved.

When I lived in Massachusetts (before my Dad was transferred and we moved to Tennessee), he used to take me to Pawtucket Red Sox games. I learned a lot about the game while sitting with him at McCoy Stadium, watching the future of Red Sox baseball. When I began to mature a bit in the last several years, he and I were able to enjoy more two-sided discourse about the team.

This isn't nearly all that he means to me, but if I had to list those who influenced my love of baseball, he would be right up there at the top, and it's a part of his legacy that will continue on.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so I'll keep it short, and just say that I'll be gone to Massachusetts for a bit. I'll talk to you all again, probably next week, and as always you'll have Randy and SoxDevil to keep you updated on the Sox.