Twenty-five years ago, or around the time I met Johnny Salamone at West Essex Junior High, I thought I'd forever remember the soccer games we played together. Sports were such a big deal, I figured the scores, the highlights, the details of every goal, would survive for eternity in my mind.

I was wrong.

All these years later, I don't remember much at all about the games. But as I learned this week, when I found out from old friends that Johnny had been lost in the World Trade Center tragedy, you never forget a teammate.

On Saturday, Johnny will be eulogized at St. Aloysius Church in Caldwell, N.J. He was a bond trader for Cantor Fitzgerald, up on the 104th floor. Those closest to him will remember him, most of all, as a loving, doting father to his three children, Alexander, Aidan and Anna.

I regret that I didn't get to know that Johnny.

But I'd like to tell you all a little bit about the Johnny Salamone I knew. Because I have a feeling you know him too.

If you know a guy who never lost at anything, you know Johnny. In our little suburban world, Johnny ruled the street hockey court, the Wiffle ball field and, later on, the poker games. And he never let you forget about it, either. "Suckers!" he'd shout when he bluffed everyone to win a hand.

If you played soccer and know a guy who wasn't particularly good at the nifty little skills, like juggling a ball, but was always one of the first players chosen once the real game started ... you know Johnny.

If you know one guy who was not the least bit afraid of things like "tryouts" and "cuts," then you know Johnny. When we were freshmen, about 75 of us tried out for 20 spots on the baseball team at West Essex. Most of us were petrified, trying to show a coach in two days we could hit and field. Johnny? He nicknamed himself "The Cobra" and used the tryouts as a chance to brush up on his imitation of then-Pirates star Dave Parker's batting stance. Oh yeah, there was never any doubt he'd make the team.

If you know a guy who could hurt you physically and make you laugh about it at the same time, you know Johnny. The game he invented in our high school cafeteria was called "Fresh Bait." Basically, it meant if you put a hand flat on the table, it was "fresh bait" and anyone who could reach you had the right to hammer it with their fist. When your hand was pulverized by Johnny, he'd just say, "You know the rules."

If you know a guy who called you by your last name, but your parents by their first names, you know Johnny. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley, what are Mary and Jerry going to think about you getting a D?"

If there's someone out there who was your first "ride," you know Johnny. Better yet, if you know a guy who could take the least-cool car of all, an old family station wagon, nickname it "The Jet" because of its loud engine and turn it into something cool, then you really know Johnny.

Most of all, if there's someone out there who taught you how to laugh at yourself, then you know Johnny.

Not only do you know him. But you're never going to forget him.

Since this is a soccer column, I would like to share one story of Johnny from the field. A junior varsity game, can't remember where, but I'd been taking every free kick for our team, with no success to speak of. Finally, late in the game, a foul is whistled, another free kick, Johnny brushes me aside, says, "This one's mine, Bradley."

"Go ahead, Johnny," I said.

From about 25-30 yards out, Johnny nailed a ball into the upper corner. He didn't celebrate. He looked at me and said, "See how you're supposed to do it, Bradley?"

Then he smiled.

Go ahead, Johnny.

Jeff Bradley is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at jeff.bradley@espnmag.com.