The sad side of my job -- saying farewell to a friend

As a sports writer, I feel particularly blessed to be able to be a participant, albeit in the background, in a world I love dearly. From the great games to the stories of heroic comebacks, I get to be a part of it all. It's why I got into the business, midway through college, in the first place.

Unfortunately, I also realized when I decided to become a writer that sometimes real life will intrude upon my realm providing a literal gut-check saying that not everything is always going to be wonderful.

I got my first taste of that on Tuesday, July 6, 2010.

Walking into the office after a busy, but fun, Fourth of July weekend, I had to do a double-take as I passed the extra copies of the weekend's Greenwich Time because there, in glaring black and white on the front page of Tuesday's edition were the words "GA mourns death," followed by "`Gentle' coach, teacher Medley killed in motorcycle accident."

Coach O'Neil Medley, someone I had worked with on several occasions over the course of the last year and a half and had come to greatly respect, was gone -- taken long before his time after losing control of his motorcycle and striking the guard rail on Route 7 in Kent.

I didn't know him personally, outside of the stories I had done on the basketball team, or on some of Greenwich Academy's individual athletes, yet his loss hit me hard -- and those who did know him well will understand why.

When I first met Coach it was at the start of the winter season in 2008, while I was still freelancing for the Greenwich Time. I was assigned to cover a GA basketball game against Miss Porter's and, like most, I was a bit intimidated by his hulking, 6-foot-5 frame. But I was a recent college graduate ready to tackle the world so I squashed those feelings and confidently introduced myself to him. Imagine my surprise then, when I heard his gentle, soft-spoken reply.

It was in that initial brief conversation and my observations during the game itself, that I saw that Medley was something special. He never once yelled at his girls for making mistakes, never once raised his voice, yet he commanded their attention in huddles. He was always teaching, taking girls aside and pointing things out while they listened with rapt attention.

After the game was over he congratulated them on a solid win while, in a manner as frank but gentle as I've ever seen a coach display, told them that they had a lot to work on, but would get there.

I was sold that this was going to be someone I would enjoy working with.

Over the course of the rest of that school year and into the next, and through my reassignment to the sports editor position here at the Citizen, I covered GA athletes and teams on multiple occasions and it seemed that no matter where I turned there was Medley, teaching a class, helping out another team, working with the girls in the weight room or on the field during conditioning drills. Always teaching, always helping, always listening.

It became clear to me then that Medley was far more than just the basketball coach. In a way, he truly represented Greenwich Academy athletics and all that the school, as a whole, stood for.

But through all that, what will always stand out most to me, and what I will most remember, is for every story that brought me to GA's campus, O'Neil would always make it a point to say hello to me and would sometimes spend a few minutes to see how I was doing, what other stories I was working on or just to talk about sports, never losing that demeanor where you can't help but feel relaxed and at ease.

To conclude I want to say thank you, Coach, for all the good memories and all the conversations we shared. Your presence will be sorely missed.

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