I was just guy born in a small town northeast of Nashville, right on the Kentucky border (literally, if you were to travel a few miles down my road, you’d be in Kentucky). Being raised in a Tennessee-loving family pumped orange and white blood through my veins, and Saturdays weren’t the same without watching the Vols play. I didn’t know who the players or coaches were on almost any UT team, but I knew one name – Pat Summitt.

It was a name synonymous with success. When the Lady Vols were on, I tried watching them. And they would almost always win. It was rarer seeing them lose than it was seeing them win. Pat’s 1,098-208 record is proof of that.

I don’t remember the football team’s championship in 1998. I barely remember the years of Casey Clausen. Heck, even Erik Ainge’s years as the Vols quarterback are a bit foggy for me.

But I always knew who Pat Summitt and the Lady Vols were. They won back-to-back titles in 2007 and 2008 and always had deep tournament runs. And I watched in awe as she changed the game and drew me into the world of sports. I took up sports journalism in hopes of one day meeting Pat.

I finally got my chance to thank her while covering the Lady Vols this past spring. As the Lady Vols game came to an end, I saw Pat Summitt sitting in the front row in the middle of the arena.

Letting my journalistic barriers down for just a few moments, I walked over to her and greeted her with a handshake. I told her how big of a fan I was and how truly honored I was to meet her. She didn’t thank me for the kind words. She didn’t even act like she knew that she was THE Pat Summitt.

Instead, she asked me what paper I wrote for and my name. After answering her with a quick response, she smiled and looked me dead in the eye.

“I’m going to read your story tonight,” she said. “You write good about my girls, you understand me, son?”

I answered with a “Yes ma’am” and went to work.

I never spoke to Pat after that. Her health declined as the year progressed, and we all saw less of her at home games.

I just hope that my story lived up to her expectations.

Whether it did or it didn’t (and let’s face it –Pat Summitt always found places for you to improve), I hope that Pat enjoyed my story. I wrote it for her.

Pat was a living legend. She was the embodiment of courage and one of the most genuine human beings I’ve ever had the honor of meeting.

This tribute isn’t enough for you, Pat. So as I write this tearful goodbye, I want to thank you for everything that you did in your lifetime. Thank you for helping me find a love of sports. And more importantly, thank you for being an idol to millions.

One of the best things I think you ever said was when you were offered a job as the men’s coach and turned it down, asking why the men’s job would be considered a “step up.”

It wasn’t a step up. There is no step up from the best.