Written and delivered by one of Kurt's best friends, Dave Mullen, who lives in Dallas. Dave is a kindred spirit who has season tickets to the Mavs, Cowboys, Stars, Rangers, and the Oakland A's, representing his hometown.
Former Ohio State running back Eddie George was named for induction into the College Football Hall of Fame on Monday. Now this is not earth shattering news by any means. But I realized that it was the first day since last week that I didn’t receive a call from Kurt when I know I would have. He would have been on the phone with me that moment saying, “Ah…he was good, he was good” and then go on to list five other running backs that he saw that were better.
Harmon Killebrew died on Tuesday. I would have gotten the second call from Kurt since his death and he would have said “Ah…he was good, he saw good,” and then told me how Tony Oliva and Rod Carew were better. And I would have agreed.
Kurt Ostling aka K.O. aka Angry Young Man, died last week and I still can’t believe it. We were close palsfor over 25 years because of our previous business relationship, our commonalities, our many trips together, our constant contact on the phone and, when he could figure it out, our conversations via text messaging.
Few people know that Kurt was a very religious man. In fact, I have never heard anyone yell “Jesus Christ” more often than Kurt Ostling.
I am pleased that today’s services began at 11:00 today. That means that Kurt has been up for eight hours.
I know he would have loved to have been here and see everyone. In fact, he may have even freshly shaved his head for today.
I learned a lot from Kurt. I learned that the only shelf was the top shelf. I learned an appreciation for Steakhouses. Bob’s in Dallas. St. Elmo’s in Indianapolis. The Palm, anywhere. “Oh, the memories.” Kurt slept through some of the best meals we ever had together.
We were sticklers for a balanced diet and the four basic food groups: chicken wings, bar-b-que, beer and whiskey. Often in that order.
I learned an appreciation for The Martini. Single Malt Scotch. College basketball games. Shapiro’s Deli in Indy. Shaw’s Crab House in Chicago. He would call me from one of my favorite places, or one he just found and I would ask “How was it?” he would say “Ah…(waiting,waiting)…Ah, spectacular.”
I also learned about love of family from Kurt. Whether they knew it or not, in our many conversations regarding Lauren and Eric, I could not imagine a more proud father. He was so proud.
But I remain angry at “Angry” to this day for one reason. That guy got me completely and totally hooked on Crossword puzzles. I fact, my Crossword Anonymous meeting starts in a few hours as soon as I can come up with an eleven letter term for ”insomnia.”
I will miss the long pause as if he was processing information after I would crack a joke, followed by an infectious, bellowing laugh. I will miss the phone calls from a happy hour somewhere, anywhere in the United States, where upon striking up a conversation with a bartender or a patron inevitably led to a trivia question. He would call me for the answer, either to hear my voice or because he didn’t know how to use Google search. Or probably both.
We believed that anything worth doing was worth overdoing. We believed in competition. We loved golf but were frustrated that we weren’t better at it. We believed that Earvin “Magic” Johnson was the best basketball player of all time.
And, of course, we had a great love for the baseball. We pursued seeing a game in every major league park. I made it. Kurt was close.
I remember talking to Ralph Ostling in Chicago at Lauren’s graduation dinner. He knew I had seen a game at every major league park, and he asked me about the Polo Grounds in New York. The Giants moved from the Polo Grounds to San Francisco one year before I was born. I thought that was an interesting question until I heard the laugh and realized I had been set up by Kurt and Ralph was the perfect foil. Of course I had never seen a baseball game at the Polo Grounds. They had me on that one.
The last message I received from Kurt was last Wednesdayevening from Phoenix regarding Willie Mays. He texted “My boyhood hero hit 80 last week- nice that the team did a tribute. I tell you, there’s not much better than seeing Say Hey patrol the Polo Grounds. Oh! That’s right – you missed that one.”
Yeah, Kurt, I missed that one. But you, my friend, will be missed the most.
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