After finishing my career as a sportscaster & media contributor around 1996 this was one of the first pieces of sports poetry I wrote. Its called - 87 LEFT There goes a man, A hard-charging, fast-catching kind of man. Leaving this City of Blue, Leaving in the Darkness of Night. His final encore spoiled by a new ruler, With an earring, a smart mouth and A Simon Legree mentality. This artist's number was 87, His proofs were left on the battle field, Astonishing actions that spoke louder than amplified words. Why is a man recognized as an honorable man? Is it because he is an elite athlete? Is it because of record-setting performance? Is it because he fills stadiums? It is sometimes all of this - it is more often none of this. The true measure of a man is the enduring spirit He passes on To those who have played with him. To those who have never known him. To those that cheer him from afar. The indomitable spirit of a man Lives longer than a hero's ending Gerald Wilcox has left our artificial field of dreams Despite efforts to the contrary. He has left with his dignity, We are left with our memories. - Written in 1997 by the guy who plays Bronko on this site.