RIP Rich Tandler

great guy, he always responded to my tweets.... he will be missed

There's a saying, "No man is without enemies." But from the outpouring of sympathy in the last 6 hours, that may not have applied to Rich.

WOW!! I’m truly shocked RIP!!

Terrible news. Does anyone know who how he passed? This seemed kind of sudden.

Horrible to hear of his passing. My heart goes out to his family. Dude was a good beat writer and an all around good guy.

Very sad to hear this ..rest in piece

May he RIP. As thoughts and prayers are with his family!

They are saying nobody will sit in his press box seat Row 1 Seat 15 ever again. That is pretty cool.
RIP Rich and HTTR.....

RIP.

This is a shocker, Tandler was one of the few whose' opinions I trusted over the years. He will be missed. Condolences to those that knew him personally.

Great article by Keim honoring Tandler:

The reality hit anybody when they walked through the door because the absence was jarring. The first face you’d often see walking into the Redskins Park media room was Rich Tandler’s. And it was vacant. That sight will continue to provide a massive jolt to anyone who covers the team.
Tandler’s death on Tuesday hit our room hard.

He was a good man who loved what he did and it showed.

That’s why Wednesday was one of the two most surreal days I’ve had at Redskins Park, the other one being the day Sean Taylor died. That time, the players mourned a co-worker and a friend. This time, we do. A media room that is often full of life – laughter, chatter – was eerily quiet for most of the day.

Not every media room is like the one in Washington. Some don’t get along, whether because they think that’s how you have to compete or the personalities just don’t mesh. Others do. Ours did. You can compete with other people and still enjoy their company. My goal is to beat someone else, not hate them. There’s enough of the latter going around.

Tandler fit well into that dynamic and he could interact with anyone on the beat. I did not sit and have long chats about life with Rich, but I loved needling him. Why? Because I couldn’t help myself – and because he was always a good sport about it. There was nothing malicious, but he reacted well – with a look, with a comment or a (fake) hearty laugh.

This job can be difficult. We’re not curing cancer, but there are long hours during the season, almost no days off, it is competitive and there are demands. We’re closely scrutinized and often judged (just like we do with players or coaches). It’s not nearly to the level of a player (nor is the pay), but it is a very public job -- one that we chose. Some fans can be nasty simply because they disagree with an opinion (or even a fact-based article) and don’t want to believe the reality. You can disagree without vitriol (most do). Yet it’s a job that’s easy to love because let’s face it: We’re covering football. I worry all the time about never becoming complacent. It's not healthy. But for all of us, when you're writing fun stories or talking Xs and Os or watching games, good lord what's not fun about that?

Another reason it can be enjoyable is because of the people in the media room, especially when people get along. I looked forward to my interactions with Rich, whether in the press room or on the NBC Sports Washington podcast. I love joining that group – J.P Finlay, Mitch Tischler and Peter Hailey -- because their chemistry is strong and it makes for such a fun 30 minutes. When you can have fun on this beat, it makes the other parts a lot more palatable. He sat next to Tarik El-Bashir now, just as they did when working together for Comcast. There was a good connection. Those two, J.P. and myself typically sat by one another at home games.

This loss is crushing for that NBC Sports group because of how much time they spend together, whether at home or on the road. Yes, it became a second family for them. Finlay and Tandler clicked because both would get exasperated with the other in a fun way and show it in their unique fashion. Tandler could smile and knock out a line or just say, “Well..” with a little shrug. Rich had a role and he played it well. Really, it was just being himself.

Rich was the crusty but good-natured uncle (or, for some in the room, grandfather). But he was not some genial pushover. He was a consistent, reliable worker. He learned how to perform this job after switching to writing late in life. He was around 50 years old when he called Rick Snider about a book he wanted to write. One thing led to another and Rich kept elbowing his way into the room. Eventually Comcast hired him; he was a voice of the fan. But he did not act like a fan. He obviously had some things to learn, but he grew in his role and became established. There is room for many voices in the media and Rich’s was heard. Thanks to the podcast, he became a mini-celebrity. It makes me happy that he got to enjoy a certain level of popularity in this job before he passed.

I often have kids tell me they want to do what we do: cover the NFL or the Redskins in particular. My response always is to let them know the path almost all of us have taken. There’s an outlier: Rich. He traveled an unusual path but he made it work. He understood how to use social media to build a brand. Despite his age he probably had the newest gadgets before anyone else. We could joke about his flip phone, but the reality is he probably ditched his before anyone else.

A running gag -- one of many -- in the media room involved whether or not Tandler fell asleep on the way back from the Grand Canyon the day before the season opener. Five of us saw his head down and eyes closed. Tandler refused to budge: He had not fallen asleep. We killed time debating this topic over the last few weeks. That trip, by the way, was an absolute all-time highlight for me. Going somewhere with people you like and care for and having a good time.

On Monday, Rich and I walked to our cars together. It’s a five-minute walk and I accomplished a rarity: Going five minutes without needling him. I don’t really remember the conversation because it was routine. As I pulled away in my car, I nearly stopped to make a wisecrack. For one of the few times I chose to be an adult and simply told him I’d see him Wednesday. When I walked through the door, there was only an empty seat. And a massive void.