He was a superb teacher that made lifelong connections with countless students. He was a fan of the arts, and loved to talk about them with anyone who would listen. He was even the most adept napkin thief I’ve ever encountered (c’mon, Howard; I had to take that shot).
But where Howard was the most impressive to me while I was a cub reporter in the mid-‘90s was his knowledge of football and his willingness to share that knowledge with a snot-nosed kid. To be fully transparent, Howard’s only faulty trait was that he was a Wisconsin Badger through and through. But I digress.
Upon first walking into the Giants locker room you can imagine the nerves I felt being around not only the players and coaches but the veteran media types as well. Within seconds of my first foray into this daunting atmosphere, there was Howard with an ear-to-ear smile and a warm handshake. Right there, I knew I‘d be fine. And Howard was correct with the kind words he shared as we completed our first of thousands of conversations: I would indeed outlast most of the – let’s call them less-than-welcoming – scribes.
[http://magarticles.magzter.com/articles/2772/223177/592c4fa226ff6/1496076128416.jpg]
That was Howard in a nutshell. He was always looking to help, always looking to share. For this one young writer he made a lifelong impression with just a simple hello. Surely he could sense my discomfort level was at a 16 on a scale of 1 to 10 and he immediately made a beeline, making all the nerves and anxiety disappear.
For most of the next decade-and-a-half, Howard and I spent countless hours chatting about the Giants and football in general – both on the sidelines at practice and on the phone. You want to talk about a wealth of information? This guy forgot more about football than most people will ever know.
As he got up there in years – his body may have slowed down, but his mind never did, not even at the last minute – Howard stopped coming around Giants Stadium as much. For those scoring at home, the old Giants Stadium press box was the scene of Howard’s countless crimes against unsuspecting napkins, whic...
But where Howard was the most impressive to me while I was a cub reporter in the mid-‘90s was his knowledge of football and his willingness to share that knowledge with a snot-nosed kid. To be fully transparent, Howard’s only faulty trait was that he was a Wisconsin Badger through and through. But I digress.
Upon first walking into the Giants locker room you can imagine the nerves I felt being around not only the players and coaches but the veteran media types as well. Within seconds of my first foray into this daunting atmosphere, there was Howard with an ear-to-ear smile and a warm handshake. Right there, I knew I‘d be fine. And Howard was correct with the kind words he shared as we completed our first of thousands of conversations: I would indeed outlast most of the – let’s call them less-than-welcoming – scribes.
[http://magarticles.magzter.com/articles/2772/223177/592c4fa226ff6/1496076128416.jpg]
That was Howard in a nutshell. He was always looking to help, always looking to share. For this one young writer he made a lifelong impression with just a simple hello. Surely he could sense my discomfort level was at a 16 on a scale of 1 to 10 and he immediately made a beeline, making all the nerves and anxiety disappear.
For most of the next decade-and-a-half, Howard and I spent countless hours chatting about the Giants and football in general – both on the sidelines at practice and on the phone. You want to talk about a wealth of information? This guy forgot more about football than most people will ever know.
As he got up there in years – his body may have slowed down, but his mind never did, not even at the last minute – Howard stopped coming around Giants Stadium as much. For those scoring at home, the old Giants Stadium press box was the scene of Howard’s countless crimes against unsuspecting napkins, whic...
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The Giant Insider (Digital) - 1 Issue, June/July 2017