Tim Greenwood R.I.P.

Tim Greenwood Top Right

     A few short months ago I used this forum to remember a good childhood friend, Tim Bosley, who passed away far too soon. Sadly, today I am faced with the unexpected loss of another great lifelong friend, Tim Greenwood. When I think of words to describe Tim Greenwood several immediately come to mind; passion, enthusiasm, kindness and sincerity are at the top of the list. Rarely will you meet someone with more love for life than Tim had. In the 33 years that I knew Tim I cannot recall ever seeing him without a smile on his face or an enthusiastic greeting. Tim valued people and friendships with a passion that was unparalleled. Every time I spoke to him he made me feel good about myself. What a gift to have.

    In every chapter of life there seems to be one person that is the common thread that holds the people who meant the most to you together. As I have grown older and experienced the inevitable heartaches that life throws our way I have grown to appreciate more and more the chapter of my life spent at North Carroll High School. That was a chapter when life was predominantly fun and the biggest stress we had to deal with was trying to make the playoffs, getting our parents to let us stay out past midnight, and determining if we stood a chance at gaining the affection of whatever person we were infatuated with. In the years since I graduated Tim Greenwood was the common thread that kept me connected to North Carroll and the people who meant so much to me there. Tim had a passion for North Carroll that he exuded for decades as a player, teacher and coach. I recall many times over the past several years when I was awakened late at night by text message alerts on my phone. "Who the hell is texting me this late?" was my usual reaction. Then I would worry that something tragic had happened because surely that could be the only reason someone would be messaging me at that late hour. I would then be pleasantly surprised to find rambling play by play descriptions of a dramatic win by the North Carroll basketball team. Inevitably it would end with a comparison to a dramatic win Tim and I shared when we played together way back when, including specific details of plays involving me that I don't even remember. That was the passion Tim felt for the Panthers, and the many friends he met along the way that he cherished so much. 

    It is hard to imagine a more kind and sincere person than Tim Greenwood. Through the years I have been amazed at how much he cared about the people he met and loved along the way. We kept in touch sporadically, yet each time we spoke he was not just interested in how I was doing; he expressed a genuine interest in how my parents, my siblings and my nieces and nephews (whom he only knew when they were small children attending our basketball games in the 1980's) were doing. His sincerity in asking about how everyone was doing was evident in the fact that he remembered all their names and some small detail about them over 25 years later.

    Perhaps my fondest memory of Tim occurred in 2012. Like so many of you, Tim and I shared a passion for the Baltimore Orioles. I had the good fortune to be in Dallas on business when the Orioles clinched a playoff spot for the first time in 15 years. It was determined that they would play the Rangers in Arlington, Texas. I was able to get a ticket to the game and I excitedly posted on Facebook that I was going to the game. Within minutes I received a call from Tim (the common thread) informing me that another N.C.H.S. classmate, John Davis, was living in the Dallas area and was going to the game also. Tim insisted that I call John and try to meet up with him. I took his advice and was able to reunite with John for the first time in over 20 years. It turned out to be one of those rare magical days in life where everything just falls into place. I met John and his family and we had a great time reminiscing and the Orioles won a playoff game. I am forever grateful to Tim for helping to make that such a special day in my life. There is no doubt in my mind that Tim played a part in a magical day that occurred in many peoples lives.

    When I learned of Tim's passing today I could not believe or accept it. I went to his Facebook page to look for evidence to confirm this horrible news. What I found was a picture of the Orioles celebrating a win over the Yankees under Tim's post that read, "Win column. Go Birds. Get healthy Manny." it was posted at 10:49 p.m. just hours before Tim left us. What a wonderful last post.

    It is after midnight now as I close. I am going to send Tim one last late night text message reflecting on North Carroll High School, and what his friendship has meant to me through the years.

Losing a Piece of Your Past

                                          "Boz" outside North Carroll High School circa 1986

Recently I celebrated my 45th birthday and had a conversation with a friend about how I now felt officially old since I am as close to 50 as I am 40. My friend strongly disagreed with my assessment but it did not make me any less convinced that I was old. That is until yesterday when I heard the news of the death of a high school friend, Tim Bosley or as his friends referred to him, "Boz." In that moment I realized just how young I am. Because there is no way Boz should be leaving us yet; he was way too young.

I first became friends with Boz when we played basketball together at North Carroll High School. Anyone who has ever played on a championship sports team knows someone like Boz because although he was never a star and often struggled for playing time he was as essential as the person who scored the most points, threw the most touchdowns or hit the most home runs.  He was the guy with moderate talent but the heart of a champion. The guy that you hated to have to gaurd in practices because you knew he would be giving it everything he had all the time and if you let up the slightest bit he was going to make you look bad. In that way he made his teammates better. He was also the guy who was always cheering on his teammates the loudest and the first to greet you in the huddle on the sidelines during a timeout. Boz loved sports for the simple most basic reasons of all; the joy of playing and being a teammate. He recognized and cherished the camaraderie that comes with competing for a common goal. Also, the grueling long bus rides after tough losses and sheer exuberance of winning a playoff game and the feeling of togetherness each end of that emotional spectrum brings. The gift that Boz brought to those teams most of all was his positive nature and his unparalleled humor. He turned those long bus rides into some of the most fun experiences I have ever had. His ability to come up with "one liners" that could have the entire team rolling with laughter was only outdone by his impromptu skits using members of the team as his targets.

Over the years since graduating from high school I lost touch with Boz. We would run into each other at an occasional Orioles game and immediately get lost in laughter recalling those North Carroll basketball days. His name would often come up in conversations with other high school friends. He was simply one of those rare people whom every time you hear his name or recall a memory of him it brought a smile to your face. That is because Boz loved to make people laugh. And that is a wonderful gift to have.

As I have thought about Boz this weekend one particular memory came to mind. On one of those bus trips to a game I was listening to my "Walkman" (for those of you wondering what that is think of an IPod only much bigger and it plays cassette tapes....hard to envision right?). Boz came up to me and asked me what I was listening to. The Rolling Stones, I replied. Boz handed me his earphones and said, "listen to this, these guys are going to be the next Rolling Stones." The song "Bad" by U2 was playing. I immediately thought it was one of the best songs I had ever heard. I suppose you never forget some things from high school. Perhaps your first kiss....your first car....and for me, the guy who turned you onto the epic rock and roll band that would come of age at the same time we did. Thanks for that Boz!

For many years now running has become my emotional outlet. It is the place I go to to try to make sense of things that make no sense. Things like losing an old friend long before you should. Today I went on a long run which I dedicated to Boz. I don't need to tell you what the first song was that was blaring through my IPod as I began my run.

So long Boz. You will be missed.