By Taylor Nigrelli
For those who have not yet heard or have already forgotten, St. Bonaventure Assistant Sports Information Director Brian Moretti died last Wednesday in Richmond, Va. of apparent cardiac arrest.
It’s likely most students and faculty didn’t know who Brian was before they received the Notice Board email informing them of his death. The school had hired him less than a half-year ago, and his job wouldn’t often bring him into contact with anyone outside of the athletic department and student media.
I pity those who didn’t have the extreme privilege of meeting Brian.
He was both personable and professional, someone who was easy to work with, easy to talk to and easy to get along with.
The sports information office is something of a revolving door. In my three years of participating in student media, I’ve worked with three sports information directors and three assistants.
Employees of the office come and go as quickly as the student journalists they so often have to deal with. Most of the interactions I’ve had with former employees of the office have been strictly professional. They were often tense, awkward conversations that ended quickly and were soon forgotten.
But working with Brian was so much more than that. Although I didn’t have too many encounters with him, the times I did spend with him stand out.
One Tuesday night earlier this semester, I met with him in the bowels of the Reilly Center so that he could set me up for interviews with Coach Schmidt and some of the players.
Practice ran a little longer than expected, so Brian and I were left waiting for more than a half-hour. We spent that time talking about everything from his past experiences, to our favorite local media members, to the experiences he’d had on the first few weeks working his new job, to our greater ambitions.
Soon after, practice let out. I conducted my interviews and wrote a story that I’ve already forgotten.
This re-affirmed something I’d long since discovered about working in sports journalism – the people will always matter more than the work.
And, for the short time I knew Brian, he mattered a great deal.
When I learned of Brian’s death, I too was in Richmond, in a room full of student journalists who had experiences working with him. At first, shock filled the room. After the first few minutes, we didn’t really talk about it. It didn’t feel real, at least to me.
The next day, a few of us spent a solid 20 minutes telling stories about Brian and talking about his persona in general. It wasn’t just me he mattered to, we all seemed to agree he was special.
My friend and The Intrepid’s sports editor, Joe Phelan, put it best when he said Brian was the type of person you specifically remembered meeting.
Brian was someone who struck you as special. He was, as Coach Jim Crowley so eloquently put it, “a magnetic personality.”
Brian was expected to take a different job within the athletic department after this year. I likely never would have worked with him again or really have interacted with him again.
But I feel terribly for those whose lives he could have touched and never got the chance to. I feel terribly that Brian never got the chance to reach his professional potential or advance in his career.
But I also feel lucky to have known such a man. And moreover, I feel I’ll spend a lot more time engaging with and getting to know those who work alongside me in the sports journalism and sports communication fields.
Rest in peace, Brian. You deserve it.
Taylor Nigrelli is the sports editor of The Bona Venture. His email is nigreltn11@bonaventure.edu.
