THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 24, 1994 TAG: 9407220268
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 20 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Sports
SOURCE: Mike Kernels
LENGTH: Medium: 78 lines
IT'S NOT EASY saying goodbye.
I know.
I've been staring at the lime green characters on my terminal for the past seven hours trying to find the right words to write The Big Goodbye.
But all I've come up with is a few disjointed sentences, an empty McDonald's bag, an empty Burger King bag and three-hour-old coffee that I'm still drinking.
Yeah, you guessed it. The Virginian-Pilot's revolving door in Suffolk has turned again. This time with me leaving.
But this isn't news to you. No, not by now.
Western Tidewater never changes. Only we do.
Robin Brinkley. Tom Robinson. Dick Welsh. Robin Brinkley (again). Rich Radford. Steve Carlson. Ed Miller. Paul White.
Now me.
Quick story.
When I first came here, I wrote a column saying hello and some general get-to-know-me stuff like my age, that I was attending Old Dominion and wanting to move out to the country to raise some critters.
The day after it appeared, I got a call from a guy in Smithfield that wanted to sell me four pigs, a cow and two chickens.
I said: Sorry, thanks anyway, but I'm not interested.
He assured me his animals were top quality.
I said: I'm sure they are, sir. I really appreciate the offer, but again, no thanks.
He pressed.
I hated to break it to him. See, I grimaced, I, uh, meant critters as in kids. Not livestock.
Oh, he said. Click.
ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO, I took over for White.
And now, just as I was finding out that Orbit is a place in Isle of Wight in addition to being the Jetsons' pet, I'm outta here.
Starting Monday, I'll be back at Old Dominion kissing up to a guidance counselor so I can get the English degree I've been working on since 1986.
Yes, '86. Believe it.
I've been at ODU so long I've got my own office hours. To teachers I once addressed as ``Mr. Smith,'' I now simply say: ``How's it going, Joe?''
And, in turn, they answer with a variety of responses: ``We still on for golf, Saturday?'' ``Let's do tea later.'' ``Can I borrow your latest issue of `The New Yorker?' ''
Sorry. I'm rambling.
In my place will be John Gordon, 58, who sporadically worked here in the past and is currently the sports editor for The Clipper, the community news section for Chesapeake.
The Western Tidewater beat is one of the paper's toughest. Two eight-team public school districts. Three private schools playing in three different conferences. Four area recreation leagues. A Suffolk Sun that publishes twice weekly. A daily you can't forget.
And one person to do it all.
That is, providing you don't end up in places like Ivor, Zuni or Eclipse trying to find your way around.
WESTERN TIDEWATER IS a different world, where the rules that apply to Norfolk, Virginia Beach and any other city in the area are null and void.
You can lose yourself on the long, open stretches of country road that serve as the only social umbilical connection to counties and towns.
And then there are the fans and the coaches. They are some of the finest people you'll ever meet. Well, the ones that don't still want my head.
Those things haven't appealed to a lot of people that have revolved through the door.
They did to me for reasons I still can't effectively explain.
I'll really miss it. And you.
That's why saying goodbye is so hard. by CNB