He Was Always That Nice a Guy

When I was a journalism student at Fresno State in the 1960s, a class assignment was to pick our favorite columnist and do a biographical report. I picked my idol, Jim Murray, and wrote to him seeking background information. He wrote back, sending along a nice personal note and plenty of material. I got an “A” on my report.

I wrote back to thank him at the time and got a chance to thank him in person a few years later when, as a young sportswriter for the old Herald Examiner, I sat with him at a function.

“I’m surprised I did that,” he said. “I’m not usually that nice a guy.”