Trust me, it’s not easy saying goodbye to something you’ve lived and loved for a quarter of a century.

In a lot of ways, my responsibilities won’t change that drastically when I leave the Tribune-Herald this week to start a new job as Director of Bear Foundation Communications at Baylor.

I’ll still be covering Baylor athletics. Just my office and audience change, as I will handle a daily e-mail newsletter for the Bear Foundation that will replace the printed version of Dave Campbell’s Baylor Bear Insider.

It’s funny, because I felt at least a tinge of sympathy and pity for Kim Gorum when he had to follow Dave as the Trib’s sports editor 15 years ago. Who wants to be the guy that follows a legend?

Just ask Chuck Reedy how it feels (or Dave Roberts, Kevin Steele and Guy Morriss).

Now I’m that guy.

At 83, Dave is retiring again. And I can’t come close to filling the shoes of a legend.

With change comes excitement. I’m pumped about the challenges and opportunities that my new job offer me. Honestly, as tough as it is to leave the newspaper office, this is exactly what I needed to re-energize me.

But with the change, I’m also leaving behind 25 years of memories.

When I came to the paper in May 1983, fresh out of North Texas State University, I remember telling then-city editor Dub Brown, “I’ll be out of here within five years.”

My goal was to be scooped up by one of the major metro papers, destined to become a media superstar with a fat wallet.

Looking back, it’s amazing how brash and pompous I was at 22 years old. My guess is that he had heard it all before, but I still have to wonder why Dub didn’t laugh in my face.

With the promise of the first sports department job that came open, I initially took a job on the news copy desk. On my second day, one of the sportswriters left to take a job at the Kansas City Star.

Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good. Throughout my career, doors have opened for me that I could never have opened by myself.

Watching guys at other newspapers, it always surprised me how they would pass each other at events and never even speak. At the larger metros and even papers our size, you just don’t see the kind of camaraderie that we share at the Trib.

When we were all still bachelors, I remember getting together for a Mad Max movie marathon or poker parties until the wee hours of the morning. And then later, playing Wiffle ball after the paper was put to bed, complete with team-by-team stats.

Until my onetime roommate Mickey Humphrey died of a brain tumor in 1999, we kept the same three sportswriters intact. With John Werner and myself, we had a group of writers that shared unbelievable chemistry and hung together for 16 years. That just doesn’t happen.

Along with a current staff that includes Jim Barnes, Brice Cherry, Chad Conine, Jason Orts and Ned Pedersen, those guys are some of the best friends I’ve ever had.

John and I have shared countless road trips, including last week’s 10-hour journey to Kansas City. Photographer Rod Aydelotte won’t even go with us anymore, because apparently he doesn’t like it when we sing along to John’s CD mix of the “Worst of the ’70s.”

I also had the pleasure of working under two editors (Bob Lott and Carlos Sanchez) and four publishers (Randy Preddy, Dan Savage, Michael Vivio and Belinda Gaudet) who have often challenged me and always accepted me, flaws and all.

You see, if your paper has arrived too late for your liking at some point in the last 25 years, it was probably my fault. I never met a deadline I couldn’t bust.

Many to thank

I also owe a debt of gratitude to people like Barbara Elmore, Bob Sadler, Hollis Biddle, Becky Gregory and Paula Blesener, who helped train and mold me from a punk reporter to a somewhat more polished and hopefully humble writer.

But I save my greatest praise for Dave and Kim, two of the three sports editors that the Trib has had over the last 80-plus years.

They were bosses, friends, tennis partners and confidantes as I transitioned from high school coverage to the Baylor football beat writer for the last 21 years under six different head coaches.

I think the only time I ever got mad at either one of them was when Dave whizzed a forehand passing shot by me and shouted out, “We win!”

That moment aside, having a boss you actually like makes coming to work every day a whole lot easier.

Not that it’s all been a bed of roses.

This is a dream job that has offered me the chance to cover events like the 1986 Final Four in Dallas (the last in a smaller arena), playoff games for the Dallas Cowboys and Dallas Mavericks, pro golf and tennis tournaments, countless bowl games and the 2005 women’s Final Four in Indianapolis, when Kim Mulkey and the Lady Bears hoisted the national championship trophy.

But it’s also a demanding profession filled with late nights, long road trips and endless deadlines. And while most of the coaches, players and administrators I’ve dealt with over the last 25 years have been a joy, there’s also a handful of people who are no longer on my Christmas card list (and I was probably never on theirs).

Playing favorites

Some of my personal favorites were Brad Goebel, Trooper Taylor, Robin Jones, LaCurtis Jones, Gary Baxter, C.J. Wilson, Jessika Stratton, Chameka Scott, Sophia Young, Pete Fredenburg, John Goodner, Andy McCollum, Larry Fedora, Steve Shields, Ricky Rhodes and Manny Ordones.

From Grant Teaff to Art Briles, I’ve had a working relationship with the Baylor football coaches that seems to forever fluctuate between friendship and nemesis. It’s a fine line you walk that some men understand better than others.

Finally, to the Trib readers: I know you haven’t always agreed with me, and I’ve got the threatening voice messages, hurtful letters and angry e-mails to prove it. But I thank you for being faithful enough to read, even when we didn’t see eye to eye.

That’s actually what made it fun. And when I did get the occasional “thanks” or “good job,” it quickly made me forget all the criticism that was heaped on me for the other stories.

You, I will miss.

I leave behind an unbelievably talented sports staff that’s more than capable of replacing me and a desk that no one else is willing to clean. By the way, has anyone seen my 2008 copy of Texas Football magazine?

hilltribber@yahoo.com