A story about Pedro Gomez: During the time he covered the Barry Bonds’ home-run chase, which only felt like forever, Pedro became a hero in my house. Our four sons were roughly between 10 and 16, and they loved the Giants in general and Bonds in particular.

Naturally, to them Pedro had the best job in the world: traveling the country and hanging out with Bonds. It was a testament to Pedro's remarkable good humor. Dealing with anyone on such an intimate basis would erode even the most positive soul, but Pedro never let it show.

For reasons I can’t remember, at some point Pedro became known simply as “The Man” in our house. Every time he came on the TV, which averaged 1,209 times per day back then, everything would stop. Pedro was so exalted that none of them could comprehend that I knew him.

During the summer of 2007, as Bonds closed in on Hank Aaron’s career HR record, our paths crossed often. One night we were at dinner in a generic Marriott bar when my wife called to solicit my help in urging our son Tom to stop causing some commotion or other with his brothers.

“Guess who’s next to me?” I asked Tom. Furious, silent, he didn’t care. “The Man,” I said. (Pause) “Really?” he said, suddenly interested, rage gone. Pedro, loving this, motioned for me to hand him the phone. “Tom,” he said. “This is The Man speaking. Listen to your mom.”

It was like I’d handed the phone to the Pope. Tom got off the phone and lorded it over his brothers. “I just talked to The Man,” he said. Whatever caused the disturbance was gone. Peace returned to the household.

A few weeks later, an envelope arrived in the mail: four 8x10 photos of Pedro, personalized to each of our sons, signed simply: The Man. He was the absolute best.