Late last Saturday, late at night, after Marcello lifted the European Champions Cup at the Stade de France in Paris, I finished as usual the broadcast of the final game with thanks.
Only this time the last and most important thank you of all was to Modi Bar-On, my teacher and rabbi.
It's hard to believe that less than 48 hours later, Moody left us.
The great romantic of football, the lover of the Hebrew language, the man who changed the sports broadcasts on Israeli television.
The one who removed the tie and replaced the abysmal seriousness with his endless smile and mischief.
"Have fun," he told us before every game broadcast - and we had fun.
Football was Moody's great love, but he never forgot that it was a show, a huge celebration, to be enjoyed.
Contrary to what Bill Shankly once said, Moody did not think football was a matter of life and death.
Thanks to Modi Bar-On, the Champions League studio has become the best and highest-quality sports program in Israel, and I have had the honor of being there alongside him for the past two decades.
I learned so much from him, and I admired the way he did everything lightly and nonchalantly - but only at the sight of an eye.
Moody was a professional and a perfectionist, who would eat himself up for every little mistake, even if no one but him noticed it.
He was a man of clusters.
One that interested him, and not just football.
He came from the world of theater, from the stand-up stage, where it all began.
He loved history and created dozens of amazing docu-films in their quality and durability in the mirror of history.
He loved Hapoel Haifa and loved rock and roll.
He and I had conversations about music no less than about football.
Actually more.
It is cynically said that cemeteries are full of irreplaceable people.
Well, in the case of Modi Bar-On, that statement could not be more accurate.
Were we wrong?
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