OPINION: I feel like I’m greeting an old friend again

I hope I can do the job as well.

When Chris mentioned he was leaving, Susan was trying to figure out how to hire a sportswriter and another writer or two. For the past few months, we've been stretched to the limit. I had been in a little office on production day, and it dawned on me.

“Hey, Susan, make me sports editor, and hire two or three writers.”

To me, it was natural. I had been a sportswriter for a dozen years before making the switch to teaching. Even then, I continued to cover sports for various local papers, not because we needed the money, but because I enjoyed it.

To steal a famous saying and twist it around: Old sportswriters never die. They just smell that way.

Most of my sports writing career was in Alabama, where there are two college teams that you can cover: Auburn and Alabama. I once was accused of being a fan of both teams by opposing fans reading the same article. It made me feel good, since the article was critical of both schools.

Rarely have I been critical of high school coaches or players. For the past few years, I've covered local high school games, and I have nothing but praise and respect for the local players and coaches.

I can't think of only two incidents in the past where coaches have been less than pleasant.

The first dealt with a coach who was a legend in his own mind. He had been at a private school in Alabama, where the year before his team went 3-8 after a 1-10. I was out at his school to talk about something in mid-August. I had done an interview for a special football section, and then wrote a short article about the team. He thought the article should be bigger. An assistant Auburn coach was visiting.

Him: “Boy, it took a lot of brains to write that long article.”

Me: “Yeah, more than it takes to win four games in two years with your talent.”

Auburn Coach: “Hahahahahaha.”

We actually became semi-friends after that. I ran into him a few years later in a city 100 miles away at a college baseball game and he greeted me like a long-lost sibling.

The other involved a column I wrote about the playoffs. There were some strings pulled for a wild-card team to host the area winner. I had mentioned it was unfair, and the calls from the coaching staff and fans began. What was interesting is that the offending team was not in our coverage area.

Two good friends were coaching the visiting team, and I asked if I could catch a ride on the team bus, because I didn't want anything to happen to the motorcycle (pronounced Motor Sickle in East Alabama English.). The players loved it, that they were protecting “their” sports writer. They made me an honorary member of BHC, their “Black Hat Club.” For 37 years, I kept the secret of what BHC was. I believe it's safe to say now.

I'm looking forward to this. It should be fun.

Contact this reporter at blove@westlifenews.com or 440-871-5797.