Published: June 18, 2008 11:56 am         

When Irish eyes are smiling ...

I want to know what Tom O'Rourke would have thought about Mike Page, the former Fort Hill and West Virginia University football and track star, taking over as the head football coach at Bishop Walsh.

My belief is Tom would have been quite intrigued and quite excited, not only for BW, but for Mike as well, as he becomes a head football coach for the first time.

I want to know what Tom O'Rourke would have to say about the NBA Finals. I want to know what he would have to say about Rocco Mediate. I want to know his view on the Maryland basketball program.

I want to know a lot of things, including what we're going to do when we expect to hear him on our radios and won't. I want to know how we're going to get through ACIT week without Tom O'Rourke.

I want to know how we are supposed to work in press boxes around the area without that deep, rich and reassuring voice serving as our backdrop as we cover the games being played before us.

I want to know who we can turn to during breaks in the action, before the game or at halftime, concerning certain things as they pertain to the game, or the real life we try to temporarily forget about while we bury ourselves into our enjoyment of the games.

I want to know where we turn to for the friendship, the love, the guidance and support, the funny story, the care, and the twinkling Irish smile that we've turned to Tom O'Rourke for and, without fail, have always received.

I want the answers to all of these questions, even though I know I already have them. We all understand we have them and try to cope with those answers whenever we talk about Tom and find ourselves stopping in mid-thought to collect our composure. We understand we have them when the other person in the conversation interrupts his thoughts to collect his composure.

Tom O'Rourke was a man's man. He was a gentleman. He was a friend. He was the loving son and son-in-law. He was the strong and sacrificing brother. He was the proud and doting father, and he was the deeply in-love husband, telling his wife Mary Jane as often as 12 times a day, every day, that he loved her.

He was a devoted Catholic man. He was an American. He was Irish in every stubborn and gleeful sense. He was a sportsman. He was a Baltimore Colts fan. He was a gentleman of LaSalle.

Goodness, how we are going to miss him.

He was everything to us, including our competitor. We loved to try to beat each other to a story, and whenever one of us was successful, our acknowledgment of it would come when we talked at length about it once the story had been broken and put to bed.

Oh, we had our differences don't you know. That's bound to happen when two friends, two hard-headed Celts who can both drop a sentimental tear as easily as they can a smile, are trying for the same stories with a rival, and the borderline to that rivalry is a city street. Oh, yes, we had our differences, but the two of us never dwelled on them. We simply picked up and moved ahead from wherever our friendship had taken us; although Mary Jane once re-introduced herself to me as "Mrs. Tommy Newsome."

The truth is, I wouldn't have this job were it not for Tom O'Rourke. On Christmas Eve 1983, Tom and Mary Jane were visiting my mother's house and I was home from D.C. I told him about the different things I had been covering for the Prince George's Sentinel, and he told me about the possible opening on the Times-News sports staff. He told me I should pursue it.

At the time, I didn't believe I wanted to leave the city. I was, after all, young and had all of the answers, even though I had none of the questions. But each time I would talk to Tom after that he encouraged me more to at least investigate the possibilities. He pushed me to be relentless and, if the need be, to torture publisher Jack McMullen about those possibilities and everything I could bring to the newspaper.

When Jack finally hired me, he said he did so because he figured he would see a lot less of me if he and I worked every day in the same building.

I owe that to Tom. I owe him for the persistence he pushed me to have. I owe him for convincing me I wanted to return home, and live and be happy here. I owe him so very much more.

As all of us will, I will love him and miss him, and I will thank God for him to the end of my days.

I will remember him, and I will be happy. Because that's all Tom O'Rourke ever wanted us to be.

Contact Mike Burke at mburke@times-news.com.