Jack Curran
Thursday was spent reliving all the great memories of Jack Curran, the one of a kind Archbishop Molloy baseball and basketball coach who passed away at the age of 82.
Friday comes the harsh reality he's gone, and New York City high school sports will never be the same as a result.
It didn't hit me until I picked up Friday's New York Post -- cheap plug, I know -- and saw our spread, all the great photos that illustrated what a regal man he was, that I realized what I didn't have time to think about Thursday.
Jack Curran, the all-time winningest coach in New York State history with 22 championships and 2,860 careers wins between his two sports, is actually gone.
PHOTOS: CURRAN THROUGH THE YEARS
I had the pleasure of getting to know Curran in the homestretch, covering high school sports the better part of the last decade. His basketball teams were no longer elite while his baseball teams remained among the city's very best. Yet he still stood alone at the top.
He commanded respect from everyone, but what struck me was how much he gave it, to all who crossed his path. The first time I interviewed him, the winter of 2004, I was a shy young reporter just getting started. It was a late Friday night, after a big win for the basketball team. I was in awe, having heard so many stories of the great Jack Curran. Nerves took over. I stuttered, I botched my first question.
"Take your time," he told me, smiling.
I stumbled through the next one, and the others weren't well thought out either. I figured I had embarrassed myself, that he would either not remember me, or not give me the time of day next time. I mean, this was JACK CURRAN.
On our next encounter, he greeted me.
"Hello Zach," he said. "Ready?"
I looked around, and to my shock he wasn't addressing another reporter named Zach.
My fondest memories of Curran were the postgame talks, the short, succinct interviews and sitting in his office while he held court with his assistant coaches. He spoke his mind, kept it simple, never overcomplicated matters. When Molloy lost on the hardwood, it was because "we didn't hit enough shots," or the other team played great. He rarely blamed individual players publicly. It was always moving on to the next game, to the next season. I'm just not sure how we move on without him.
You knew this day was coming eventually, as he got up in age and fought off one health problem after another. Yet, you could never picture attending a Molloy basketball game at aptly named Jack Curran Gymnasium or stopping by the baseball field, and not seeing him there still coaching third base, leading young men.
It's still hard to wrap my mind around the fact he won't be there. I always saw him as a constant in prep sports in the area, which is why Thursday was the easiest part, talking to former players, friends and opponents about the great man, reliving the memories that will live on forever.
But there are generations who will never know his greatness, what made him such a treasure. A lot of people used the word sad to describe his passing. To me, it's depressing. Jack Curran is gone.
Archbishop Molloy will never be the same. And neither will New York City high school sports.
zbraziller@nypost.com
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