Like most of us, I've been thinking a lot about Ernie these past few days. I've been trying to think about what he meant to me as a fan of the Tigers, and as a baseball fan generally. I know that every columnist in Detroit (and many in the nation) have written about him, but I wanted to add my perspective.

First, baseball is a game about family. You see that when you go to the ballpark and see a dad with his son, the boy eagerly wearing his mitt hoping for a foul ball. You see that when the dad teaches the kid the rules of the game and how to keep score. Two of my older brothers took me to Tiger Stadium for the first time when I was 7. It was a thrill I will never forget. I played catch with my dad hundreds of times in our yard. He was a lefty and we had no gloves for lefties. So, he took an old glove and found a way to make it fit onto his hand. He wasn't going to let a little problem like a wrong-handed glove deny his son a game of catch. My only home run in pee wee baseball was at the only game my dad was able to see live. After 34 years, I remember that moment like yesterday.

Ernie knew that the game had that special relationship for families. He understood that baseball is a game that has spanned the generations, and that the stories we tell keep the game alive. Both of my grandfathers passed away before I was born, so I never had the joy of talking with a grandpa. But, Ernie was a grandpa to all of us. Every time that I listened to him, I knew what it was like to have a grandfather.

Second, baseball at its core is a conversation. The pitcher (with assistance from the catcher) speaks to the batter with his pitch, and the batter responds. Pitch after pitch adds to the conversation, until a resolution is reached. It then starts again with the next batter. The sport has certainly gotten more complex over the years, especially with the new statistical analysis. I am not downplaying the importance of the numbers, but those trends are not why I watch the game. I like the pitcher vs. hitter battle, and then the chess game that continues if a man reaches base.

Ernie focused on the conversation of the game. He did not bombard us with stats or any filler. He told the simple story of the game, complete with a few catch phrases. It would be great if modern announcers realized that not every single second of airtime needs to be filled with them talking.

So, that's what Ernie meant to me. I felt personally connected to him by his grandfatherly warmth. And, I am certain my love for the game would not be as strong without the hundreds of nights I listened to him. He will never be forgotten or duplicated. May he rest in peace.

I am looking into getting an authentic Tigers' home jersey, but I'm having trouble deciding what player's name to choose for the back. I probably won't do a current player. I became a Tigers fan in '78, so I'm thinking of the era from 78-88. My top choices are Trammell (favorite all-time Tiger), Gibson (I was there for the 2 homers in game 5), and Morris (I loved his competitive fire and mustache). I'm also thinking of some obscure guys, like Brookens, Wockenfuss or the late, great Senor Smoke. Any suggestions?