Reds Insider: John Fay says farewell

Thanks.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for agreeing. Thanks for disagreeing. This will be my final story for the Enquirer. It’s the last of thousands. I walked into the old Enquirer building in September of 1975. I had just started school at the University of Dayton. I was hired as part of the crew that took football scores.

The Enquirer sports department at the time was populated by an odd mix of characters. You knew you were in a newspaper from the sound of the AP ticker. To be heard above the clatter, you had to talk loud. Bill Ford and Dick Forbes, World War II vets who to went school on the GI Bill, were colorful guys who used colorful language. Bob Hertzel was the Reds' beat writer. I was amazed by how much copy he could crank out so quickly — and so well.

They and the others formed an interesting bunch. It was pretty clear that they had a lot of fun working.

I thought: Man, this is what I want to do.

And so it began.

I’ve covered just about every sports beat in the city over the years. The last 15 or so as the Reds' beat writer have been the most rewarding and interesting.

I think a large part of that has been because of the connection I’ve developed with you — the readers — through social media. When I started - if you wanted to get in touch with a writer - you could send a letter, which he may have gotten in a couple of weeks, or try calling him on the phone, on the off chance he was in the office.

Now, you can instantly connect. To me, that’s a good thing. I’ve embraced the digital age (for an old guy).

That’s why I‘m so thankful to the readers. The interaction has given me a good idea that what I did for all of these years mattered to people.

So, again, thanks.

Now, indulge me for a bit.

You don’t go through a long career like I have without a ton of help along the way. I’m not going to attempt to name them all.

The late Jim Montgomery, the laconic Texan, was my first sports editor. He could not have been nicer or more helpful. Upon his retirement, he paid me the greatest compliment I ever got. “Fayman, you’re the best newspaper man we’ve got.” Not the best writer or editor. That’s all I’ve wanted to be from the day I walked into the place: a good newspaper man.

Two other editors, Greg Noble and Bill Thompson, were my greatest advocates in the early years. You don’t get to where I got without people like that behind you. Tim Sullivan gave his “get out of the business" speech, but then helped me to learn the business.

The two people I’m most thankful to are my wife — the very lovely Laura, as Marty Brennaman always calls her. She never once complained about all the late nights or the missed birthdays and anniversaries.

The other is Michael “Flea” Ball. Flea was already at the Enquirer when I started. He started on his 16th birthday. Flea and I have always gotten along famously — and infamously.

He’s been my biggest champion. He knows sports. He knows Cincinnati, and he knows what people want to read. You need that in the news business. He is also the quickest wit I know. He had the funniest line I’ve ever heard in my life. I can’t clean it up well enough to use it here.

If you see me, I’ll retell it for the 1,387th time.

Through this early-retirement process, the only times I’ve welled up are when I thought about my friend Flea. I’ll miss him like the brother he’s been to me.

It’s been a great run. I won’t miss covering games on deadline or chasing stories. I will miss the people. My best memories have very little to do with the sports that I covered. They’re all about the people I’ve met along the way.

I used to sit on a dugout bench with Joe Nuxhall and talk pitching in Sarasota. What West Side kid wouldn’t love that? I covered Miami University when Charlie Coles was the basketball coach. No one ever spent an hour with Charlie without feeling better about mankind.

The time spent chatting with Marty in the second inning has been one of the greatest joys of my career.

Bernie Miklasz, the great St. Louis columnist, wrote very eloquently in his farewell column that he started writing sports because it was such a great connection to his father.

My father died when I was five months old, so all I know of him is memories my family shared with me. I was told he was a big Reds fan. I hope he’s reading this from on high and he’s proud of his youngest.

I’ll still be around, just not on the pages of The Enquirer or Cincinnati.com. I’ll miss that. And thanks so much for reading. It’s been an honor.