In the bad, bad old days when I practiced in Lubbock (ca 1984), I had played a round of golf at Hillcrest Country Club with a group of friends. I had never played there before. After the round, we settled in to a table at the 19th hole for some braggadocio and to settle up. An older gent, already several libations in to his post-round festivities was directly behind me, holding court with a bunch of similarly aged old jocks. (Not ex-jocks, there's no such thing)I recognized him immediately, but none of my Raider friends did. I had the pleasure of a few minutes of conversation with him, and I hold those memories dear. He was delightful. He was drunk enough to be hilarious, but not drunk enough to be obnoxious. Years later, when business was good, my family moved in to a rambling old house on 24th street in the Tech Terrace area. The neighbor lady from the beautiful house three down from us on the corner came strolling past, checking out the new riff-raff, I'm sure. We visited for a second, and I introduced myself to her. She said "I'm Carol Layne-you know, Bobby's widow. He built this house". So yes, Bobby's in my top three.