Having met Lyman when I was only a teenager, the impact he had on how I thought, lived and breathed pinball (both competitively and the game as a form of entertainment) is impossible to explain.
He played with a weird stance . . . so I played with a weird stance (until my back absolutely couldn’t take it anymore).
He would play without shoes . . . so I played without shoes.
He would play with a towel hanging out of his back pocket . . . so I played with a towel hanging out of my back pocket.
He was my pinball hero. There is that saying, “never meet your heroes”. I’m so incredibly fortunate that I did.
Lyman always had time for me from Junior High School all the way through officially getting to work together with him this past year. I’ll remember the play sessions in his basement. I’ll remember the rounds on the golf course. I’ll remember the countless hours talking about pinball and life and how lucky we both were to have both found something in life to be so passionate about.
I’m thankful for all the times we had together over the past 30 years. I’m also thankful for the joy he will continue to bring me in the years to come anytime I turn on one of his games.