Remembering A Man Who Turned Small Moments Into Important Memories

Trevor Sikkema
Aug 9, 2017 · 7 min read

I have no idea why we scheduled the event on the first day of training camp. We had to be up at 5 a.m.— or, at least, I did — and hosting the event on a Friday night meant I wasn’t going to get home until 11 or midnight, just to wake up at 5 again.

The event I’m talking about is PewterReport.com’s monthly bowling event we do at place called Pinchasers in Tampa. I’m not much of a bowler, but as the social media guy for PR, I go to every event and document the fun times had by all. Despite me not being that much into bowling, it’s actually pretty fun. At each event we have a former or current Bucs player come out to hangout with the readers and fans, and getting to see them meet or shake the hand of a hero of theirs makes for great pictures and even greater moments.

On this particular night, Bucs all-time leader scorer, and Super Bowl Champion, Martin Gramatica, was in attendance. So, even though I was hot, sweaty and tired from the first day of camp, I decided it would be in my best interest to go — even though I certainly wished I was getting a good night’s sleep instead.

Meeting Martin was great; he was fun, engaging, witty and was great with the fans for the Q&A session. As I was walking around taking pictures and videos for our social sites, I stopped and sat on a table sort of away from the crowd to look through some of the content I had captured before posting it. As I was looking through my phone, deciding which one to post, a man came up to me and said,

“Hey, Trevor.”

I looked up, and there was this big, burley man donning homemade, old school, and quite unique Bucs attire.

He said to me, “so how you liking having to deal with Cook all day?” He was referencing my editor, Mark Cook. I smiled and said, “Oh, it’s not so bad. Even though he’s a Florida State guy, we have our fun.”

The conversation built on from there. He told me he’s been reading my work at PR and listening to the podcasts I’ve been on, and said I do a really good job. Humbled, I said thank you. He even told me a few stories he had of Cook and Pewter Report before my time that made me laugh.

About five minutes into the conversation I spoke up during a break and said, “I’m so sorry, I forgot to even ask your name.”

“Richard,” he said as he held his hand out — and that was the first time I met Richard Zeller.

Over the next 30–45 minutes (he warned me he’d talk my ear off), we talked about all kinds of things. We talked about the current Bucs team, what my first six months have been like at Pewter Report, where each of us were from and how we got to where we were that night, and he even introduced me to his daughter, Hailey, who many Bucs fans know as “Princess Nasty,” a playful nickname and custom jersey given to her when she was a young Bucs fan.

Then he told me how he was involved with the “What The Buc” group, a group of Bucs fans that not only have the best tailgate in town, but also do a lot of great things for the community.

I told him that, including him and his daughter, every person I’d met so far who was involved with What The Buc has been pleasant and great to get to know. He said thank you, and was proud of the group he belonged to. Then he began to tell me some of the stories from WTB and the things they’ve done. He told me how their tailgate went from just a small group of people to now one of the biggest on game day. He told me about the events in the community they’ve done, including an incredible moment where his daughter, unprovoked, gave a handicapped child the night of their life by asking them to the dance floor and dancing with them. I’d say part of that natural reaction to make someone smile came from how he raised her. He shared the moments he’s been lucky enough to see and be a part of with those in Tampa Bay.

He told me what being a Buccaneers fan was all about; to not just invest in the team, but the people, the city, too.

Sometime after I looked at my watch and it was far later than I wanted it to be knowing that I had to be up early the next morning. But, it was great getting to meet Richard and Hailey, and I told them that as I said my goodbyes for the evening. I asked if they’d be around for training camp and they both laughed and said, “oh yeah, we’ll be there.”

From then on, at every single open training camp that I can recall, Richard and Hailey were in the stands. On that second day, as I walked up and down the sidelines to get the best angles and shots, I heard a, “Hi, Trevor” from the crowd; it was Hailey, with Richard sitting next to her. I smiled big and waved back, and Richard the said, “We’re gonna say hi to you every day we see you here now.” I laughed and said back, “I hope so!”

And they did.

As each day passed by, I’d see them at least once and sure enough they’d make it their job to say, “hi, Trevor.” One day I saw Richard wearing a throwback Sapp jersey, and as they said hi, I pointed at him and said, “I like that jersey!” He pointed back and said, “Thanks, I wore it for you,” with a laugh.

Richard and Hailey were there every day that I can remember, except for Tuesday, August 8th. On that day, I saw some familiar faces in the crowd, and said hello to a few people during and after practice, but Richard and Hailey weren’t one of them. It wasn’t until later that day that I found out why.

Richard had passed away suddenly in his sleep.

When I heard the news that evening, I was truly speechless; I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t even know what to think. The only two words that I could formulate in my head were: “No” and “how?”

I didn’t know Richard very long, 11 days, to be exact. But, I can tell you one thing for certain, those 11 day were better with him in it. Those camp days where I’d hear him and Hailey say “hi” where, at times, I could walk over and talk and other times where I may have only had the time to smile and wave back were special; they made them special.

My heart is broken, but not for my own reasons, but for those who had the pleasure of knowing Richard longer than I did. My heart breaks for the What The Buc family, the people he couldn’t stop talking about the first time we met — and with good reason. My heart breaks for some of his closest friends, who got to hear him “talk their ear off” as much as they did. My heart breaks for his family, the ones his legacy will live through.

The moral of this story and this memorial has two parts. The first is this:

Tell the people you love you love them every damn day.

And don’t you dare miss a day because you don’t feel a certain way; you’re tired or weren’t in a good mood when you saw them. Life — our time here — is so precious and so short, whether you live 10 years or 100. We are all here for one reason: to love; to spread love and to receive love. Love is what makes all of this work. Love is what makes life worth living.

The second lesson is a call to action.

All it took was 11 day for Richard to impact my life for the better. What can you do for the people around you each and every day?

I only knew Richard for 11 days — 11 days! That’s it. But, I can say with the upmost certainty that I smiled a little more because of it. I heard stories that I could only hear from him because of it. I felt moved to get to know a group of people who had a soul like his because of it.

Don’t feel bad for me. Though it will be hard for me to not see Richard in his usual seat at training camp, or get to enjoy some tailgate food with him this season, or have someone to look forward to talking to at bowling events, this isn’t about me. Don’t give your condolences and prayers to me. Give it to his family, his wonderful daughter Hailey, and his wife and son, Amy and Austin, whom I hope to meet someday soon. Give it to Derek and Cheryl, and the rest of the What The Buc Krewe as they dedicate their upcoming season to their friend no longer with them. Give it to anyone who had the pleasure of shaking Richard’s hand, and who opened up the door of conversation that he would kick wide open. I personally know how much he can take just one conversation.

It’s not about how much time you get, it’s about what you make of it. Richard impacted my life for the better — enough to write in his honor — in just 11 days. Think about that as you interact with those around you.

Be welcoming; be kind; be thoughtful; be love.

If you do that, Richard will live on in all of us.

Trevor Sikkema

Written by

Not an expert, just a guy with WiFi. @tbbuccaneers beat reporter for @PewterReport. Alumnus of @UF. Once had a fan tell me he'd trade his wife for a 1st Rd pick

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