Farewell to a Great Writer and Great Friend Jim O'Connell

I had read Jim O’Connell on college basketball for years before I got to know him through the Brooklyn Old Timers Hall of Fame. He had attended the event for years before his long overdue induction into that Hall of Fame in 2011. And for me one of the nicest of many things to learn about a guy I "knew" first as the AP's national college basketball writer, was that we shared an enjoyment of New York’s basketball history and high school basketball in particular.

    The time spent with him that I enjoyed most of all came after the Old-Timers dinners at Bishop Ford when he would walk with Tony and me from there to Farrell’s Bar in Brooklyn. On those walks the discussions were long, filled with laughter, fun and details that I suspect only a handful of people besides us were aware of.  We talked about Bishop Reilly High School his alma mater, and their participation in the Msgr. King Christmas Tournament, which was an event in my Marine Park neighborhood (St. Thomas Aquinas Parrish) that became an essential part of my Christmases because it was time spent with my dad who worked long hours and didn’t always have that time for me. Re-visiting those days with him was a gift I’ll remember forever.

    Inevitably there would be laughter about the old court at Msgr. King Hall that looked like a full court sized linoleum kitchen floor. And one story he always told was how, as his Reilly stormed off the court after an exciting first half he grabbed a hot dog off the counter on the way to the locker room and told the volunteer behind it “I’ll pay you on the way out”. Keep in mind this was 1972, so the woman knew he wasn’t going anywhere and of course Jim paid her before the second half began.

    Of course, there was also lots of talk about the players, coaches and games from those days which were played in that wonderful old setting with a stage at one end of the court. We saw George Johnson, Johnson, Mike Dunleavy, Chris Mullin (for Power) and countless others play there and while those talks would start in our minds from the old gym on Hendrickson Street, they would inevitably branch out to include all of college basketball. Thank you, Jim, for your kindness and those memories.        Rest in peace my dear friend.