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- Dec 31, 2005
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Here's the legendary AJC columnist's farewell piece:
It was April 15, income tax day, in 1950 that this all began. Usually, such a run as this rarely ever carries on this long. Perhaps my act has worn thin. Perhaps I have over-stayed my time. But to an old warrior such as I, it isn’t easy finding an appropriate ending place.
My mind wanders back to the Falcons’ first flirtation with glory. They led the Dallas Cowboys into the shadows of a Sunday afternoon in Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, 60,222 fans in a state of exhilaration, a division championship a breath away when the defense broke down. It was over and a city was left heartbroken.
It had been such a colossal event that even Red Smith, the scholarly columnist of the New York Times, had flown in to write of it. After the game, I gave him a lift back to his hotel, and as he collected his tools of trade, and opened the car door, he put a hand on my shoulder and said: “One more day in a cold, dreary press box — God, I love it.”
That said it for a lot of us.
The full column: http://blogs.ajc.com/furman-bisher-blog/2009/10/10/transcontinental-memories-of-so-many-fun-mark-the-end/?cxntfid=blogs_furman_bisher_blog
I grew up reading him and I wish him the best.
It was April 15, income tax day, in 1950 that this all began. Usually, such a run as this rarely ever carries on this long. Perhaps my act has worn thin. Perhaps I have over-stayed my time. But to an old warrior such as I, it isn’t easy finding an appropriate ending place.
My mind wanders back to the Falcons’ first flirtation with glory. They led the Dallas Cowboys into the shadows of a Sunday afternoon in Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, 60,222 fans in a state of exhilaration, a division championship a breath away when the defense broke down. It was over and a city was left heartbroken.
It had been such a colossal event that even Red Smith, the scholarly columnist of the New York Times, had flown in to write of it. After the game, I gave him a lift back to his hotel, and as he collected his tools of trade, and opened the car door, he put a hand on my shoulder and said: “One more day in a cold, dreary press box — God, I love it.”
That said it for a lot of us.
The full column: http://blogs.ajc.com/furman-bisher-blog/2009/10/10/transcontinental-memories-of-so-many-fun-mark-the-end/?cxntfid=blogs_furman_bisher_blog
I grew up reading him and I wish him the best.