Syracuse, N.Y. — Bill Hurley never had a relationship with another coach like the one he had with Frank Maloney.

Hurley was learning how to play quarterback after starting his career at running back. Maloney, then in his mid-30s and just a few years into his tenure as Syracuse University’s head football coach, was still wrapping his arms around the reality his new outpost looked nothing like the mammoth Michigan program from which he came.

“Needless to say, there were a lot of growing pains,” Hurley said in a phone interview Tuesday morning, “and he was probably going through growing pains as a coach.

"We were together a lot. They were screaming for his head in 1976, and they were screaming for me to get the hell out of there. He told me, ‘I’m going to keep playing you. You can do this.’ "

Maloney never had the desire to play the political game, his former players said. He was an upfront, honest, genuine coach who stuck to his guns and didn’t BS anyone, even as outside pressure to perform grew louder.

The two stayed in touch for the past 40 years, talking every other week, Hurley said, from the time Maloney left Syracuse in 1980 until their final call this past weekend, when Maloney’s family told Hurley the coach’s health took a turn for the worst.

Monday, Hurley started texting former teammates to warn them of what became official within the hour: Maloney died at his home in Chicago from complications of metastatic brain melanoma. He was 79.

Maloney coached the Syracuse University football team from 1974-80.

His tenure fell between two Hall of Fame coaches. He succeeded Ben Schwartzwalder and led the Orangemen through the construction of the Carrier Dome in 1980 before resigning and being succeeded by Dick MacPherson.

A former assistant at Michigan under Bo Schembechler, Maloney arrived in Central New York amid a backdrop of challenging dynamics: Archbold Stadium was deteriorating and the university, reeling from financial woes and racial unrest that came to a head with the Syracuse 8 boycotts, had considered de-emphasizing and possibly discontinuing its pursuit as a major college football program.

“I don’t think he realized what he was getting into,” Hurley said. “When I was a feshman, there were only a handful of upperclassmen that were playing. On my recruiting visit, they didn’t show me Archbold. They said it was locked."

“The facilities were awful,” said Connecticut football coach Randy Edsall, who played under Maloney and was hired by him as a graduate assistant at SU after his playing career ended.

Maloney went 32-46 in seven seasons here. His best season came in 1979, when Syracuse was forced to play its 11-game schedule off campus because of Carrier Dome construction. The Orangemen finished 7-5 and won the Independence Bowl in Shreveport, La., behind fan favorites such as Hurley, Joe Morris, Art Monk, Jim Collins and Craig Wolfley.

Among the assistant coaches Maloney hired: Tom Coughlin, Nick Saban, Jerry Angelo and George O’Leary.

By the time Maloney’s tenure ended, he had coached the school’s all-time leading passer (Hurley), rusher (Morris), receiver (Monk) and tackler (Collins). Morris and Collins still hold their records.

“We had some guys,” Hurley said.

Maloney was remembered for his fiery demeanor but also a lesser-seen emotional side.

Senior Day in 1979 was held at Schoellkopf Field on the Cornell campus. Wolfley, Monk and Hurley were the last three seniors to be recognized during the pregame ceremony, he said.

The year before, a segment of the Syracuse fan base, egged on by a Post-Standard newspaper poll, called for Maloney’s job, upset the program wasn’t competing for national championships like it had under Schwartzwalder.

When Wolfley ran out to shake hands with Maloney before the final “home” game, Hurley caught Maloney’s eyes starting to water.

“All of a sudden I got tears in my eyes, and we’re hugging each other like crazy,” Hurley said.

Maloney also had plenty of fire and brimstone in him, too. Even when an explosion seemed likely, he struck the right balance.

In a prior game against Pittsburgh, the quarterback and coach got into a sideline argument following a delay-of-game penalty. Hurley wanted the play called in faster. The two exchanged words laced with colorful language as the punt team ran on the field.

“I was expecting the worse,” Hurley said. “I buckled my chinstrap. I thought he was going to come at me.”

Instead of reaming him out, Maloney pulled Hurley in close.

“That’s when he gave the hug and said, ‘I get my rocks off yelling at you,’ ” Hurley said.

“It was hard for him to keep anything in when he was erupting at you. He wore it on his sleeve. I appreciated that as a player because you knew where he was coming from."

Maloney resigned his position at SU after a 5-6 season in 1980, the year the Carrier Dome opened.

“I think it’s hard any time you do that,” Edsall said. “When you take a look at what was there and having the dome and not really being able to reap the benefits of what you tried to sow ... If Joe (Morris) doesn’t get hurt and run into the side of the wall (in 1980), maybe things would have been different.”

Though considered a candidate at Northwestern toward the end his tenure, Maloney transitioned into the ticketing sales department for the Chicago Cubs, soon rising to director of ticket operations.

Maloney likely could have found another job in coaching. He spent his first year out of coaching scouting for the Dallas Cowboys. But the appeal of returning to his home state — Maloney was born and raised on the South Side of Chicago — and spending more time with his wife, Kathleen, and children, Mike, Molly and Kelly, was too good to pass up.

“You read about guys sleeping in their office and working 18-hour days,” Hurley said. “I think that kind of pushed him out of it and to seek something he could do that he liked and still had time for his family.”

He fell into the Cubs job while applying for a position at the Chicago Tribune, catering to fans such as Bill Murray, Tom Bosley and Jim Harbaugh. Whenever Maloney was spotted walking into the ballpark, the organist played the fight songs of his alma maters: Mt. Carmel (Ill.) High School and the University of Michigan.

“If we were at the game and we heard that, we knew my dad was somewhere in the stadium,” his daughter Molly said.

Edsall flew in on a couple occasions to visit with Maloney, who gifted him tickets between the dugout and home plate at Wrigley . One time, then-Cubs catcher Joe Girardi handed Edsall’s son Corey a ball in between play.

Members of the Illinois House of Representatives passed a resolution in 2011 congratulating Maloney on his 29-year run with the Cubs and wishing him many happy and healthy retirement years.

“My dad was a teacher and a coach and a mentor to many," Molly Maloney said.

“My dad believed in faith and hard work and education with unwavering ethics. He would tell you, and I think his players would tell you, his greatest treasure was definitely his family, especially his grandchildren.”

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