It seems all I’ve been doing recently is saying goodbye. Adam Eaton is a Texas Ranger. Drew Brees is a New Orleans Saint. J.J. Redick will leave Duke without a national championship. While all those were fairly painful for me -- seeing Redick crying on the Duke bench was heart wrenching, and I cried after losing two of my athletic heroes -- the most painful is one that most people won’t even notice. After seven tournaments, Phil Gordon is bowing out as expert cohost on Bravo’s "Celebrity Poker Showdown."

Everyone who knows me knows that I held Eaton, Brees and Redick in high regard as players and people. But hearing the news that Phil was leaving was different. Not only has he been a poker hero of mine, but he’s also a good friend.

When I first came to eSports in 2004 (yes, it’s been that long), I was just getting into poker because of a little show called "Celebrity Poker Showdown." The show boasted some names I knew -- cast members of "The West Wing," mostly -- and I was just watching to watch them, but I quickly picked up on the intricacies of the game and became fascinated by it. I could blame that squarely on the show’s expert co-host, who was not only funny but managed to explain things in such a way that I, someone who hates math with a passion, understood it and actually wanted to learn more about it. By the end of the first tournament, I had become a full blown poker fan. (And on a completely unrelated note, a fan of actor Paul Rudd, who appeared in the first tournament. I have Phil to thank for that predilection as well, it seems.)

Over the last two years, I’ve been firmly entrenched in the poker world, especially the World Poker Tour, but I always came back to "Celebrity Poker Showdown" because it was something fun and something I could understand. In particular, I was becoming a Phil Gordon fan. Imagine my surprise, then, when after I wrote a recap of his WPT Season 1 trip to Aruba, I got an email from my beloved editor Rick with feedback that he’d checked out -- from Phil himself. To say that I almost died is putting it nicely. I think I cried, and told everyone within telling distance, and kept repeating it over and over to myself. Whatever the reason, it didn’t quite sink in. Which was why, when Rick suggested I ask him if he’d do an interview, I balked, thinking "what in the heck is a guy like Phil Gordon going to want with somebody boring like me?" Rick eventually wore me down, though, and that’s something I’m still thanking him for.

The next thing I knew, I had an interview with Phil lined up. I was so nervous that I dropped the phone when it rang and it hit me in the leg. The entire experience was surreal, but Phil was charming, funny and refreshingly candid. Any time I ever spoke to him, I knew I was going to get the honest truth out of him. He was also always a constant surprise to me. Just when I figured that was going to be the end of the story -- and that would have been enough, believe me -- he invited me out to see the next tournament of "Celebrity Poker." In person. In Las Vegas. Cue my jaw hitting the floor.

I knew I’d have to be an idiot not to chase that opportunity, so Phil and I set everything up over email and I was loading myself and my friend into a Volvo -- and ditching work, I can now admit -- in August. I don’t think I can express how big going out there was for me. Not just for this job, which I take very seriously, but for me personally. I knew it was the opportunity of a lifetime and it humbled as well as terrified me. This was the poker equivalent of being met by my writing hero, Aaron Sorkin, for a tour of the "West Wing" set. The stories about the neurotic things I did to prepare myself for this are numerous. I played insane amounts of online poker, spent hours obsessing over my wardrobe, and actually wore makeup on that trip, which is something I don’t normally do. I knew I had one chance to make something of myself and I wasn’t going to blow it.

I’m not really sure what Phil ever saw in me, but what I saw in him and what I found in myself altered the way I see myself and my future for the rest of my life. He was the perfect host, and I genuinely had a wonderful time spending time with him, even though I cramped my neck in the process (that’s what happens when you’re five foot one talking to someone who’s six foot nine) and was considering passing out with nervousness the first time we met face to face. The experience in itself was unbelievable. I met his mother and his sister purely on accident, had my share of virgin pina coladas, and I learned a lot about poker and the business behind the game. Most importantly, I came out of it feeling that I was capable of being a professional sportswriter. I wasn’t just doing this for fun and I wasn’t just a pretender. I’ve had a very hard time being taken seriously in life -- because of my age, my gender, my height and/or my disability -- but Phil had taken me seriously. When things got rough, that became a solace, knowing that no matter what happened, someone believed in me…and it was someone who was very important to me.

Our relationship continued after that, and a few months later, in November, we did the same experience all over again. It was even better this time, as I was older, wiser and met some unbelievable people there. But the best moment of the whole thing, and one I still haven’t forgotten, happened as I was facing potential disaster. The second time around, the people at the Palms actually had a hangup because of my age -- I was twenty at the time -- and for a while, I was convinced they were going to send me packing. But they didn’t. They talked to Phil, and they talked to security, and they got everything straightened out, bless their hearts. I remember being in the VIP line, talking to my friend about what to do if everything fell through, when Phil himself showed up to get my back. He point-blank told the people involved that we weren’t going to drink, we weren’t going to cause any trouble, so on and so forth. The fact that he stood up for me -- and that he felt comfortable enough with me to do that -- touched me deep inside and made me feel proud of how I conduct myself, and the kind of person that I am. I never got to thank him properly for that, so hopefully he’ll read this and consider it his belated deep thanks for all the support.

Phil’s never stopped supporting me. We don’t see much of each other (I’m convinced he’s always in a foreign country or something, but then again, if you had his money, talent and good looks, you would probably be traveling the world too), but when we do, I always feel truly blessed to know him. He’s always encouraged me to chase this dream of sports writing. I adore him and look up to him as a poker player -- I own every book he’s written and his DVD and study them meticulously -- and when I turn twenty-one this year, I’m ready to tackle poker with his inspiration behind me. But he’s also done so much for me as a person. Hearing that he’s leaving the thing that brought us together, I couldn’t not make him proud and write something on it, in some way trying to thank him for everything. I believe in appreciating the people who make you who you are, and Phil Gordon helped shape me into who I am.

So Phil, if you get a chance to read this? Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything. I look forward to counting you as a friend and being around to support you for a long time to come, and if I can ever pay you back, I’m sure as heck going to try. This is definitely not goodbye, my friend. We’re not done yet.