Missing two old friends

As baseball season draws nearer, I can't help but think about two departed friends who were great fans of the college game.

Bob Bradley was the longtime sports information director at Clemson University and Tom Price held the same role at the University of South Carolina.

They were two of the most respected members of their profession.

Among their duties was to serve as official scorer for home baseball games, and the pacing of baseball games made it easier to have discussions -- whether small-talk or official scoring what-ifs -- than during football or basketball games.

Clemson's press box was noted for its hospitality and the willingness of the Sports Information staff to help. I don't know if the practice continues, but for years, the school offered to provide a package of photos of first-half action from that day's home game for small-town newspapers unable to send a photographer to the game.

I always joked they would have been willing to write your story for you, too, if you needed them to.

But as welcoming an atmosphere as it was, it also was a professional atmosphere. There were no hangers-on or fans sitting among the working press. I've been to high school press boxes where there was no room for the press, only the hangers-on.

For years, Bob -- I always called him Bob, he called me Rudolph -- specifically listed in his media guide that no press passes would be given to a writer's driver, spouse or traveling buddy.

Bob's son, Robert, tells of the time that actor Burt Reynolds, a former Florida State player, came into the Clemson press box before a game and was introduced to Bob. Bob asked Reynolds if he had a press pass, then asked Reynolds to leave the press box when he couldn't produce one.

In the good old days, visiting sports information directors would arrive in the Upstate days before a football game and be taken to various media outlets for interviews or to share the latest information. The visit usually included a trip out for a meal (I told you it was the good old days).

My first trip to the Peddler, the best steakhouse in Greenville, was with Bob, former assistant Jerry Arp and either Barney Cooke from Virginia or Jack Zane from Maryland -- I just can't remember which one was first.

I didn't get to attend the 1982 Orange Bowl when Clemson beat Nebraska to claim the national championship, so I watched on TV. My most memorable scene was when the network cut to a camera inside the Clemson locker room after the game to catch the arrival of the players. Bob came through the door before the players and walked over to the water fountain to get a drink as calmly as if the Tigers had just beat Virginia for the umpteenth time in a row. Just another day's work.

Bob also developed the best baseball scorebook I've every used. It has room to score a game through 12 innings, plus an easy-to-add supplement in case the game goes as long as 21 innings. I used it for years when covering the Greenville minor-league team, and had to tape in the supplement several times.

Bob often had disagreements with The Greenville News for its coverage of Clemson, but he always treated me well.

I remember visiting him in Oconee Memorial Hospital not too long before he died. He was weak and emaciated, but was able to get out a "Rudolph." I also got a chance to pray with him, a situation that never presented itself during the course of games.

Bradley, "Mr. B" to many of those around Clemson, died of cancer in October, 2000, but had been working at football games up until a few weeks before his death. He worked 502 consecutive Clemson football games and was the official scorer for every ACC basketball game for decades.

I actually got to know Tom Price first. In the spring of my freshman year at the University of South Carolina, I interviewed with Tom to be a press box runner -- a go-fer, if you will. He agreed to hire me for the next fall at, I think, $25 per game -- a pretty good sum for a college kid in the 1970s.

I found out soon in the first football game there was no cheering in USC's press box, either. Carolina did something positive and I let out some kind of a sound. Tom quickly turned around and called me down. Lesson learned. It hasn't been difficult for me to remain silent at sporting events ever since.

I worked basketball press row that year, too, but gave up the gig when I started working for The News on a part-time basis.

When USC went the College World Series in 1975, I got to cover it for The News. The schedule was such that Tom, myself and others got to go sample the Omaha cuisine several times. Times away from the stadium allow friendships to develop.

As my job focus shifted, I got to cover fewer and fewer sporting events, but still enjoyed the chances to renew friendships with Bob and Tom. When my work schedule permitted, I'd try to take in some midweek USC games and speak to Tom every chance I got.

Perhaps influenced by Bob, Tom began calling me Rudolph.

I was flipping the TV remote in January, 2008, and came across a USC women's basketball game. I didn't tarry long, but did stay on the channel long enough to see Tom sitting on press row.

Just a few days later he had a stroke, and he died not long after that, ironically on the day USC began practice for the 2008 season.

Tom loved USC as much as Bob loved Clemson. Unlike some Clemson and Carolina fans, Bob and Tom didn't let the rivalry hurt their friendship. I can remember seeing them shake hands prior to a first pitch for a Clemson-Carolina baseball game.

I know this won't mean as much to those who didn't know them, but writing this brought back good memories for me.

When they name the MVPs for Clemson and USC during this year's baseball games, they'll present the Bob Bradley and Tom Price awards. Now, you know a little more about the people the awards are named for.

I wish they could be there to make the presentations themselves.