Some losses hurt more than others: A tribute to a friend

Basketball Coach Bobby Knight has always had a tempestuous relationship with sports writers. When Knight had refused to answer reporters' questions in a post game conference, a sports writer followed him out of the room to inquire about the stonewalling he and his colleagues had received. Showing his contempt for the fourth estate Knight sarcastically replied, "Most of us learn how to write in the second grade and move on." Not every coach has such a relationship with his or her sportswriter. I know I didn't. An end to an era came to pass last Tuesday when Nevada Daily Mail Sports Editor Kelly Bradham passed away at age 61. Kelly had been with the Daily Mail from February of 1973 until his retirement. During that span he has covered many great coaches, athletes and teams.

Ours was not a friendship born out of convenience because of our professions. I have known Kelly for most of my life. Kelly was a senior at Nevada High School in the fall of 1963 when my dad became the school' counselor and later the head football coach at Nevada High. I first really got to know him when I was around 10 or 11 years old. I use to keep score for the little league baseball and men's slowpitch soft ball games at Lyons Stadium. I would tote my scorebook by bicycle to the Daily Mail to provide him the box scores from the night before. He always made it a point to talk to me more than just about the games. I still remember him telling me to practice my hitting from both sides of the plate. If you are currently a Nevada Tiger or are a former Nevada High School athlete like me, there is no doubt that your scrapbook is filled with articles written by Kelly. In high school, he would often pull me aside with an encouraging word after a tough defeat or congratulations after our many Tiger victories. I know there were many times as a basketball Tiger in high school that when I had a good game, my mom, like many parents, wanted Kelly to refer to it as a great game. When I had an average game, she wanted it to be written that I had a good game. When I was less than stellar, I just wanted to be ignored. Such reporting would have betrayed the truth. At times he was praising. At times he was tough. Through all of his articles, he was honest.

He's was as fine a storyteller as I have ever known. Once I became a teacher and coach over at the high school, Kelly served a guest speaker in my world history classes. My students always enjoyed his many artifacts from World War II that were a part of his presentation. Over my 22 years with the local school district, I have made many road-trips to Tiger ball games with Kelly. Many on school buses, some in my pickup, and a good number in his Cadillac with sports photographer Ralph Pokorny. We had some great times on those trips not just talking sports, but history (a passion which we both share), politics, and people. One of my favorite tricks to pull on Kelly during our winter road-trips was to purposely try and leave Nevada with as little gas in my tank as possible, just to hear him say that I was going to get us both stranded. He would bemoan that we were ultimately going to die along the side of the road. I eventually added a theme song to our travels that I would play, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"….the moment the song started playing he would check my gas tank and go to cussing. I have not met many people with a greater love for Nevada High School athletics and a quicker wit than Kelly Bradham. As I set in my classroom on Wednesday morning with another long time friend of Kelly's, head basketball coach John McNeley, I recounted my last visit with our friend in late July. He was residing in a nursing home in Butler and I brought him his favorite treat….a White Grill cheeseburger. As we visited about politics, local athletics and his medical condition, I could sense that my longtime friend was failing and I could also sense that Kelly knew I was upset about it. As I turned toward the door to leave, my eyes misting, Kelly set up in his bed and said sternly….next time don't forget the onions! I left with a bittersweet smile…..replaced with a heavy heart today.