This one is simple. It's about the loss of one of the great sportsmen this city has ever known.
It might be surprising to call Terry Evans a sportsman. But I knew and loved him for 30 years and he was the most avid sportsman I've ever known. The Court of Appeals Judge died suddenly last week of a lung disease that ravaged him in less time than it takes for a field goal or a home run trot around the bases. He was 71, which is older than me but still seems way too young to die.
Evans was a lot of things. He was a great father, husband and grandfather. He was the best friend anyone could ever have. He was as comfortable having lunch with the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court as he was swapping stories with breaking down sports columnist.
But one of his outstanding qualities was his love and passion for games and sports. He loved all sports, especially Milwaukee sports, as well as the New York Yankees.
During Green Bay Packers games, which he watched at home with his tolerant wife, Joan, by his side or working in her kitchen, he'd call with a question, a comment or a complaint. He loved his Brewers and could keep score with the best of them, even though it was his own complex system.
Golf, though, was his passion. He was an okay player, but the worst chipper anyone had ever seen. It was so bad and so vexing that his wife ordered DVD's promising to cure the short game woes. He watched and practiced, but he never improved. When it came time to chip, his playing partners often turned their backs on him, not being able to watch the disaster that was coming.
He was a proud member of the Brown Deer Senior Men's Club and played equally with single digit handicappers as well as handicaps that were two digits and started with 2's or 3's or 4's.
I played a lot of golf with Terry. He kept statistics of every round of golf he'd ever played and once a year he sent out a report to all his golfing partners. Nobody cared, but he cared, so we read them. I think I'm in the top two or three for total rounds played lifetime with him.
Occasionally I'd play with him and his son, David, who is not a golfer, but who played with his dad because, well, he was his dad. David has the world's fastest golf swing and Terry teased his son to his face, but behind his back he called him "my sweet son."
Terry loved competition. He'd play for 50 cents or 50 dollars. But no matter who won or lost, nobody ever paid up. He wanted to compete against you, and he wanted to beat you, but he didn't want anybody to get hurt. That was true, not just of his golf, but of his life.
Evans ran a weekly NFL pool during the season. To have the pool in the Federal Courthouse probably violated some stupid rule. But he was the Chief Judge of the Eastern District so nobody was going to complain. He never won the pool. As a matter of fact, it was often won by some woman who chose winners based on the color of uniforms or favorite cities or team nicknames.
In courts they use the phrase "your honor" to talk about judges. It was never more appropriate than when used with Terry Evans. He was the most honorable man I ever knew. I never heard him say anything bad about anyone. The most you might get was an occasional raised eyebrow.
He went to Marquette on a track scholarship and his interest in track and Marquette remained in his life. He was one of the few people I could ask who the record holder was in the 400 meter who actually knew the answer.
He had the cross country track at Dretzka Park, which hosted an NCAA championship, after Bus Shimek, his college coach. He used his friendship with then County Supervisor, and lifelong friend, Tom Bailey to get the job done. That sign is still there today.
H was a man who was in great shape. He didn't smoke. He ate well. He exercised. He took care of himself.
There are lots of reasons to miss him. His humor. His love. His generosity. His warmth. His skills. His failings.
But our world of sports and games are also going to really, really miss him.
With a history in Milwaukee stretching back decades, Dave tries to bring a unique perspective to his writing, whether it's sports, politics, theater or any other issue.
He's seen Milwaukee grow, suffer pangs of growth, strive for success and has been involved in many efforts to both shape and re-shape the city. He's a happy man, now that he's quit playing golf, and enjoys music, his children and grandchildren and the myriad of sports in this state. He loves great food and hates bullies and people who think they are smarter than everyone else.
This whole Internet thing continues to baffle him, but he's willing to play the game as long as OnMilwaukee.com keeps lending him a helping hand. He is constantly amazed that just a few dedicated people can provide so much news and information to a hungry public.
Despite some opinions to the contrary, Dave likes most stuff. But he is a skeptic who constantly wonders about the world around him. So many questions, so few answers.
