Ron Drogo, (spnited), RIP

BYH and Xan, thank you so very much.

 

Agreed. Glad to know this part of Ron's life was represented.

 

I want to add my thanks to Xan and BYH for going and sharing with us.

 

I don't post often, but I read this site daily.
And all I can say is this:
Spnited was everything I hoped for on this site,
and I looked for his posts especially. Because they were real.
Real journalism every night. Real stuff. Real good.

RIP Spnited. You taught us all.
And I will miss him so much on this board.

 

Another thank you for Songbird and BYH. Much appreciated from out here in Phoenix.

Perhaps some of us will have the opportunity to thank you in person later this year in Buffalo or New York.

 

I didn't know Ron Drogo - our paths were never likely to cross.

But in all the years I've been reading SJ, there were few people who I respected more than sprited.

(I know that's the wrong spelling, but even though I've known for a long time that spnted was right, my brain has always seen it that way. No sense changing now.)

I don't post as much as most of you, and I've never taken part in any SJ activities. As far as I know, there are only two posters who know my real name.

But, whether I agreed with him or disagreed with him, I always respected his posts. When I saw this thread linked at the top of the page, my heart sank. There's a lot of bad stuff going on in the world right now, but now I'll be a little bit sadder.

RIP. Night sports desks will never be the same.

 

Wow. Definitely got dusty in here reading some of those stories.

RIP, Ron.

 

Same goes for me.

 

Likewise. It means a lot you were there and signed on our behalf. Can't tell you how much that meant to me to read that.

 

Met Ron for the first (and only) time at the small New York City gathering we had in 2007.

Didn't know what to expect as I boarded my train to NYC. This sounds like a Penthouse letter, but I digress.

When I arrived at The Perfect Pint, the first person I met was Ron. Expected him to be a bit gruff and surly but he couldn't have been nicer. Talked to him for a while and really marveled at how he could put down that lobster bisque.

After lunch, we walked as a group around the city and stopped in several bars along the way. He bought me a Grey Goose on the rocks and to be honest, I wasn't that big of a fan at the time, but didn't want to disappoint Ron and decided to drink it as best as I could. Had a feeling he knew I wasn't particularly fond of it, but I can still remember his laugh when I took my first sip and cringed like a little child forced to take Robitussin.

"Don't be a bitch," Ron said, as only he could. "It's only vodka."

Throughout the night of heavy drinking and rabble-rousing, Ron and I had several conversations ranging from what I wanted to do with my career (I was still a young buck at the time, having barely turned 22) to baseball to life. I absorbed every bit of knowledge he had, as well as the drinks he bought me and visa versa.

While the rest of the night had its moments, one of the fondest memories I have of the gathering was putting a face and personality to a handle and then shattering any preconceived notions I had based on their posts. Meeting Ron helped me realize that.

When we all parted ways, he told me if I ever needed anything, do not hesitate to contact him. I took full advantage of that and whether I asked for advice, a last-minute edit to a cover letter or feature, his opinion on the upcoming baseball season or anything in between, Ron had my back with a deep, quality, no-nonsense answer.

Two days ago when I saw the news of his passing on his Facebook wall, I thought it was a joke. After all, it was only fellow SJers that had commented and we all know how much we loved to needle him about his age. Then I checked here and sure enough, it hit me.

Took a while to digest exactly what happened, but when I did, I went to the liquor store, picked up a fifth of Grey Goose and poured myself a drink. God, it tasted horrible, but at the same time, it felt like the right thing to do.

 

There's no hurry to arrange for tickets. By late May, the Met aftermarket will be so bad Jeffy'll be out in the street giving away tickets so that the wayward will stumble in and spend money on the overpriced burgers at Steak Shack.

 

That's awesome, Rumple. I knew you guys palled around in NYC, but had no idea it had continued. Thanks for sharing.