Ray Miller was sitting in the visitors dugout at Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati during the 1990 NLCS. He was a lone figure as he enjoyed a cool and refreshing midafternoon cigarette.
The rotund figure of a man carrying a notebook approached. Miller offered a slight look of distaste that clearly wasn't because of the cigarette. Ray loved those.
This chubby Twin Cities sportswriter and "The Rabbit" (Ray's wonderful and mysterious nickname) did not get along swimmingly back in the summer of 1986. Ray was on his way to getting fired as Twins manager, an event that came with the scribe's full endorsement.
Ray seemed conflicted as to whether he should tell the ink-stained wretch — OK, it was me — to take a hike, or to give into his always strong urge to talk.
Paul Meyer, a Pittsburgh baseball writer, had Miller as the Pirates pitching coach for a decade. And to Paul, he was "Topper," not Rabbit.
Why? "No matter what story he hears, Ray's going to top it," Meyer said.
There was no taleteller to be topped, just the two of us, and I opened with, "How is your life, Ray?"
He responded: "What? My life is good now. Minnesota was a learning experience. I learned not to take anything for granted."