Defender Contributing Sports Columnist Evan F. Moore, and his great-cousin, Lindsay Tyler (Photo Provided).
Have you ever lost someone and looked at the last text messages you received from them?
My last text to my great-cousin on my mother’s side of the family, Lindsay Tyler, who died last month, was left on “Read” after I shared recent photos from my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary party that took place in April.
Lindsay was an Air Force veteran whose many jobs included being a truck driver. His hobbies included photography, collecting cufflinks and baseball cards, all while being the family historian—a similar honor was passed on to me by my aunt, Joclede Benn, the Johnson family matriarch before she passed away.
It appears that the older we get, the people we know growing up eventually leave their mortal coil, rendering us heartbroken at the notion that our lives have drastically changed when we’d prefer that things stay the same.
Growing up, he’d drive from Detroit and stay at my aunt’s house in Pill Hill, so I’d see him occasionally. We’d talk about the Bears, Lions, Pistons, Bulls, and sometimes the Tigers and White Sox.
He was always nice to me. He was one of my favorite family members.
Anytime I went to Detroit, I’d check in with him, and he’d take me around the city. In one instance, we drove past the high school named after renowned neurosurgeon and Detroit native Ben Carson. My cousin said in passing that the school should be renamed since Carson, in his opinion, had lost touch with the community that made him.
Cousin Lindsay, who lived most of his life in Detroit, represented the city like none other. That representation shined brightest during the Bulls-Pistons rivalry of the late 80’s and early 90’s. As many of you know, those teams hated each other with a passion, putting family members in two cities on opposite sides.
When the Bulls couldn’t beat the Pistons, Lindsay would call us here in Chicago to get our reaction.
No one would talk to him because we were still reeling from the sting of defeat.
But when the Bulls finally overcame their Motor City rivals in dramatic fashion, some of us would call him to let him know that we had a tough time finding him.
What makes Lindsay a great sports fan?
Over time, many of us experienced mean-spirited behavior from fans on opposite teams, especially during the social media era.
Lindsay’s approach was matter-of-fact—not negative. When his team(s) won, he let you know about it. He was proud of the aforementioned Detroit sports teams.
My mom’s side of the family came from Memphis to Chicago during the Great Migration, eventually settling by Central Park Avenue and Lexington Street on the city’s West Side.
Due to proximity, my family knew the Thomases. The most famous member of that family, Isiah, was at the center of the aforementioned rivalry that fans still talk about to this day.
Defender Contributing Sports Columnist Evan F. Moore’s Maternal grandparents owned this building in the 3600 block of West Lexington Street on Chicago’s West Side during the 1960s (Photo Provided).
Despite the rivalry and the bitterness that lasted decades, I saw a lot of Chicago in those Pistons teams. Two guys from Out West—Thomas and fellow Chicago hoops legend Mark Aguirre—were key figures in Detroit.
I knew what I saw during that rivalry.
After all, hard fouls, pride of self, a staunch love of community and the s–t talk runs through Chicago’s veins. So much so that many of us credit those moments as character-building experiences.
Defender Contributing Sports Columnist Evan F. Moore wearing a Detroit Pistons “Bad Boys” t-shirt (Photo Provided).
In his later days, when the Lions were in the playoffs and were set to become Super Bowl LIX contenders, Lindsay asked if he would root for them since the Bears’ season proved disastrous. I told him I wouldn’t root for the Lions; I’ll root for the city of Detroit instead.
Anything he was a part of, I deemed as worthy of my admiration and support.
While at his funeral service in Detroit, I listened as so many people described him as a father figure. As I was sitting in that funeral home, I realized I now have a kinship with people I never knew due to their interaction with my great-cousin.
They, too, saw him in the ways I did.
Lindsay was a standup guy, and his community loved him for it.
He’s in the group of men I’ve spent a lifetime emulating, including my father, his fraternity brothers (who later became my fraternity brothers) and my uncles.
I’ll regret not being able to tell him that, but I’m pretty sure he understood the vibes.
Rest easy, cousin.
You’re the greatest sports fan I’ll ever know.
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