Lowell Court

I lived down the street from Mike back in High School and the first time I remember him was when we went to agility drills my sophomore year. I had recently moved to Michigan from NY and did not have my driver's lic. yet. I hitched a ride from his dad (I think) and Mike was in the back seat all crabby and cranky. He looked so tiny back there as a freshman. I think he may have had his pillow with him. It was something like 5am and we were on our way to getting whipped into shape by Coach Fracassa. He did not look happy and did not say a word to me. I knew he played lacrosse (I was trying to make the varsity and he was on the JV team - so we did not interact at that point yet) and that is where it all started. 24 years later he is gone, but still probably pretty cranky. He was his own man. He never did anything to conform or be cool. He was not a slave to fashion or fad. Being a trend setter is not how I will remember him. He was as solid as his nickname - Steel. He would never turn his back on you. There are friends and there is Mike. I do not think I have ever met someone so comfortable in their own skin. He lived his life like Popeye - I am what I am.

I played with him, against him and wish I could have been 16 playing for him. I used to hang out at his house, watching TV, ordering Little Ceasars, watching him string my stick and just loving it. He had this stringing kit that rivaled any I have ever seen. I visited him at ND a couple of times and never saw enough of him. The stories I could tell about those visits border on the ridiculous.

I have this picture of him and me and his mom. It was taken after a game, in opposing uniforms, both smiling, Mike not as much as the other two. If you look down at my hand there is a brown gift bag of cookies from his mom. Two strapping lacrosse players, decked out in our gear, his wonderful mom and a bag of cookies, wrapped in tissue paper. How quaint. That is how I will always remember him. Lacrosse, family and food. I have another picture - it is me, Mike, Jon Dale and Joe Laurencelle. It was taken after some post collegiate tourney in Detroit and both Mike and Joe are gone.

Mike, Joe and I got busted once for shooting bottle rockets and throwing firecrackers out of a car. It was Sennett's fault of course. We had been shooting rockets at a Seaholm party and they chased us. Laurencelle managed to escape. Later we drove by in a different car and picked up a tail and Mike threw a brick of black cats out the window to chase them off, thinking it was the Seaholm kids. It was an undercover police car. I think the drawn gun was overkill on the cop's part, but down to the station we went. We sat in a holding cell as the cops tried to scare us straight. Both Mike and Joe had older brothers, so they got off easy. I got grounded for a long time. It still ticks me off that I got nailed and they got off scot free.

He used to drive his lawn tractor down to my house for stuff before he got his license. He could be such a goof ball. Then he got that black bronco and would ram it backwards onto the snow banks at school. It's backside would be three feet off the ground at a 45 degree angle. I am still surprised the school never said anything to him about it. That ended when he got stuck and it took a dozen guys to lift him off. 10 years later I bought a green one, because I feel in love with Mike's.

And that is ultimately what Mike was all about. You loved everything about him. You loved him as a brother. You loved his personality. his sense of humor. You loved him as a lacrosse player. You loved his family. You loved his intensity. You loved him as a friend, mentor, coach, wiseass, and insurance guy. I admired him for who he was and what he did. I leaned on him for advice on a whole range of things, be it insurance, parenting, lacrosse, coaching. I was proud of him for his lacrosse coaching accomplishments. I was proud that he was Captian of his college team. I wanted to come down for his induction into the Lax Hall of Fame. I tried to talk him into coming to Green Bay with Kazyak and Joe Love and Tom Allen for the Packer-Lions game in 2006, but he could not get free. Things come up and there never seems to be enough time. Family comes first. It is hard to get away when you have a wife and three kids. There is always next month or the next time. But sometimes there is no next time. I will regret that I never got to see him one more time and hear his stupid jokes. You have to see the ones you love, even if only for an hour or two. Make time. Never pass up a time to spend time with the good people you know and love. I could go on forever. Just pray for Mike and his family. It is what he would want us to do.

As Mike used to say to me at the end of all our phone calls - Peace. Peace to you Mike.

Lombardi