As I drove home from a very unsuccessful fishing trip I realized that I was totally contented. The score had been no trout and only a couple of small creek chubs for an evening on the river. Yet I just felt good. I pondered this as I drove along and listened to the ball game. It was 1993 and Ernie Harwell had returned to the Tiger broadcasts. Once again I was coming home from fishing to that familiar voice. I had been fishing and the sound of summer was on the radio. All was well with the world.