CLEVELAND, Ohio -- At one point in my career, when I was trying to find my true calling in this competitive business, I wanted to be Fred McLeod -- a brilliant, creative, passionate play-by-play voice and model ambassador for a team.

I broadcast numerous college games on the radio, serving as the voice of Baldwin Wallace University athletics my final two years while spending time at Quicken Loans Arena (now Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse) calling the action during the MAC Tournament when I first broke into the radio business nearly 15 years ago. Along the way, as I bounced between TV, radio, writing, producing and announcing, I also ventured up to the broadcast booth for high school football and basketball.

Years ago, my play-by-play background came up during a random conversation with Fred. Perking up, he offered to help. He told me to put some of my work onto a CD so he could listen and take notes -- just like some of the meticulous ones that allowed him to pepper the viewer with unique information and deep knowledge while watching Cavaliers basketball on Fox Sports Ohio since 2006.

Days after giving him the disc, in the heart of a busy, travel-filled season, Fred pulled me aside to provide feedback. He offered both praise and constructive criticism. He encouraged me, propped me up and made me feel like I belonged in a booth somewhere.

Chances are, if you were lucky enough to spend any time around him, you have more than one story like mine. Because that was Fred. It’s one of the many things that makes his unexpected death Monday night so numbing. He was just 67. He will be deeply missed. My heartfelt sympathies go out to his wife, Beth, and his entire family.

With a smile on his face and sincerity in his heart, Fred was always willing to listen and lend a hand. He was a mentor, displaying the same away-from-the-booth professionalism, preparation, work ethic, leadership, kindness, care and passion that reverberated with every call during a Cavs game and every interview he conducted. He was one of a kind.

One of the things he told me during our many interactions: Don’t try to sound like anyone else. Find your own voice. Have your own style. That was during the time when I was predominantly focused on broadcasting. And while I have since transitioned into this reporter role that Fred and I discussed plenty, I try to incorporate that advice with every piece I pen.

That was Fred. He always did it his way.

Many grew up with his charismatic voice as the soundtrack to Cavaliers basketball, joining him on a circuitous journey that captured the franchise’s highs and lows. He was set to enter his 14th straight season -- and 15th overall -- as the team’s television play-by-play announcer. He seemed excited about the changes to the arena and thrilled to chronicle this new era in a way that only he could. More than likely he was going to add a few more signature calls to his lengthy list.

“Right down Euclid!”

“He shuffled his shoes!”

“The bottom!”

“A Wine and Gold winner!”

“Good night Oakland, we will let ourselves out!”

There are plenty of others, including an iconic walk-off in 2016, as the Cavs won the first NBA championship in franchise history while ending Cleveland’s 52-year title drought in historic fashion. It was the defining moment of his career, an emotional soundbite that will live on forever.

In the franchise’s biggest moment, on the city’s greatest day, through the euphoria and tears, Fred captured it beautifully alongside his buddy and color commentator Austin Carr. Fred knew what it meant to be a long-suffering Cleveland sports fan, one who had to live through the heartbreak of so many near-misses. After all, he was right there beside you. The feed for Game 7 against the Golden State Warriors was sent back to the watch party at The Q, as well as Cavs TV. It was captured on video by his wife and posted in a tweet that made the rounds on social media again Tuesday.

“It’s over! The 52-year drought is over. Celebrate. Go crazy. Because the championship is yours," he shouted before putting his hands over his face.

Born in Strongsville and a Cavs fan at his core -- with a vanity plate “HOMER” and Cavs sticker on one of his cars to prove it -- Fred often choked up when reliving that moment. He did as much on the Wine and Gold Podcast with my old teammate Joe Vardon a few years back and other times when we bumped into each other on the road at breakfast in a Marriott Club Lounge, usually shifting the conversation to the NBA, golf or one of his beloved Cleveland sports teams.

Just like the Cavs, Fred loved the Browns and Indians. We often debated Hue Jackson’s merits as a head coach and whether it was time for the Browns to change their uniforms and logo. An optimist, Fred refused to criticize the Cleveland coaching staff, even when I often voiced my displeasure. It made for some healthy back-and-forth discussion. It’s no surprise that his final tweet came at 2:18 p.m. on Sunday, Sept. 8 in the middle of the Browns home opener against the Tennessee Titans.

“Think Freddie might talk penalties at halftime,” he sent out to his 47,000-plus beloved followers.

Fred’s loss was felt Tuesday, shortly after the Cavs officially announced the tragic news. On Twitter -- a platform that can be sometimes be a relentless, hate-filled cesspool -- fans, media members, players and strangers gathered for one common purpose: To offer their condolences, share their fondest memories and, most importantly, celebrate a legendary broadcaster who was an even better person.

Want the most telling sign of his widespread impact? Well, that’s it. I mean, people on social media were divided on a chicken sandwich and the color of a dress once. Yet, they were united on Fred. Rightfully so.

It’s heartbreaking to know that interactions with him are now in the past. It will be tough to walk into an arena for an early-morning shootaround and not see his infectious smile when so many others, including myself, are sluggish, just trying to muster enough energy to ask pertinent questions. It brings tears to my eyes knowing there will be times this season when I look at the broadcast booth from media row and see that he’s not in his usual spot, or go to the practice facility and not have him leaning up against the wall during interview scrums.

The first time it’s late in a tight game this season I will probably choke up thinking about it being “sweaty palms time,” hearing him gleefully utter that trademark phrase in my own head. It will take time to get used to a new Cavs voice. Lots of time.

Golf course tee boxes will be more lonely. The Cavaliers’ locker room won’t radiate as much. The season won’t be the same. And neither will some of those hotel breakfast tables.

Fred, you were the definition of a Wine and Gold winner.

More on the passing of Fred McLeod

TV voice of the Cavaliers dies at 67

LeBron, Love and Cavaliers current and past remember McLeod

Condolences on McLeod's passing from around the NBA

Remembering some of Fred McLeod's best Cavaliers calls

Fred loved Cleveland: Terry Pluto