BY JOSHUA BALL

The passing of Teddy Paynter has been difficult to process. We had talked about spending some time together soon. That didn’t and won’t happen.

We went on to do other things in life, but every time we saw one another it was just like the good ol’ days and we didn’t miss a beat.

Last night and overnight, I started typing. It’s something I do sometimes to help me decompress. Most of that stuff no one will ever see, but I thought sharing my thoughts on Teddy would bring a smile to a few and maybe a few more tears, too.

I first met Teddy Paynter in the early 2000s. I was a sports writer for the Williamson Daily News. I was at the West Virginia State Basketball Tournament at the then-Charleston Civic Center (now the Charleston Coliseum) for the West Virginia Sportswriter’s Association meeting.

That day changed my life… and all for the better.

Teddy and I hit it off because I was from Logan County. Well, I was born at the Man Hospital to be exact. And anyone that knew Teddy knew he was a Man Hillbilly from the top of his head to the toes of his feet.

I was in. I was one of them, a sportswriter and a network of colleagues who have remained friends for decades as my life has taken a few twists and turns. For most of those turns, there was one constant—Teddy.

A few years later, I was in the editor’s office of the Daily News and saw a resume on the corner of the desk. It was Teddy’s. He didn’t call. He simply mailed it in… you know, snail mail. I asked the editor, “How long have you had this?”

He replied, “A while.”

I said this guy is a “legend.” That’s a term we’ve thrown around a lot since Teddy’s passing on April 20.

Needless to say, Teddy was hired. I didn’t even interview him. You see, Teddy was the sports editor of the Bluefield Daily-Telegraph and spearheaded one of the best sports sections in the Mountain State.

He came to Williamson because he wanted to come home to be closer to family.

He became my family.

In the years we spent at the Williamson Daily News, Teddy taught me how to be a sportswriter. Strike that, he taught me to be a writer. You see, this couldn’t be taught in a textbook or classroom. It was the old guard of mountain storytelling. Finding the story in a story. It was about digging deep and having fun.

Boy, did we have fun!

Teddy rolled into work in a (beat up) brown Monte Carlo. You could hear him coming from a mile away, bald tires and all. He would always come in smiling. “I’m living the dream, JB.”

He sure did. For 50 years, Teddy told the stories of athletes, ranging from Little Leaguers to professional athletes. All with a flare that was uniquely Teddy. He had a way to connect with people at a deep level, almost instantaneously. I remember asking him about that early on. He reminded me often that “if you are good to a kid, you have a friend for life.”

He was, as he was most of the time, right.

As tributes have poured in, I have thought about the many memories we shared.

Fast forward to 2010, I was managing editor of the Medical Leader in Pikeville. We had a few openings, and I made the call to Teddy. He was editor of the Daily News, and I was making a bold ask.

“Let’s get the team back together, JB,” he said. We did—and we brought his lovely wife, Lisa, a Martin County native whom he married in 2005. Let’s rewind a bit to that. Lisa and Teddy met at the Daily News. I had worked with Lisa in high school while working at the Mountain Citizen newspaper in Martin County.

I take credit for connecting them. Teddy would always say it helped but never really gave me credit for that one.

At the Medical Leader, Teddy’s first order of business—starting a sports section. And we did just that. Game stories, box scores, columns and action photos. The band was back together.

The newspaper had won several Kentucky Press Association Awards, and we went to Louisville to celebrate (with Lisa and my wife, Tammy). There was a problem. I left my suit pants at home. I scrambled to find a store in downtown Louisville (I won’t go there) and found a pair of pants. They didn’t exactly match. Teddy said, “Just hold all those plaques… no one can see your pants (JB).”

On March 27, 2010, Teddy and I got together, with our spouses, to watch West Virginia battle top-seed Kentucky in the Elite 8. Our friends and co-workers at the Medical Leader and Pikeville Medical Center laid it on us all week. Talking smack and even sending us some black roses.

We watched the game on the edges of our seats as Joe Mazzulla had 17 points in his first career start to lead the Mountaineers to a 73-66 upset win over Kentucky. Midway through the second half, I looked at Teddy. I said, “We have to go to Indy (Indianapolis, the host site of the 2010 Final Four).”

I bought a pair of tickets at $1,500 – $1,500 we both didn’t have.

And we went to Indy! After all, WVU hadn’t made the Final Four since 1959.

“We may see another one, JB,” he said, smiling.

So many other stories flood through my memories.

Teddy loved White Castle, and I had never had a White Castle until I met him. He would often cover state tournaments in Kentucky and come back to the office with a Crave Case.

We had many breakfasts at the old Sycamore Inn. If you know, you know. It was the breakfast spot in Williamson, providing great food for railroad workers. On Friday night and into Saturday morning, it also was a place where folks would come and “sober up” from a night of drinking.

Teddy loved the high school football playoffs. One year, Belfry was playing in Middlesboro and Matewan was playing the next day (Saturday) at Clarksburg Notre Dame. I asked Teddy, “What game do you want to cover?”

His reply, “Hey JB, let’s do both! Who needs to sleep.”

Well, Teddy did.

We drove (with WXCC’s Joe Kinzer) to Middlesboro, covered the game and drove back to Williamson. At that time, the Saturday paper was an afternoon paper, and we had all night to get the sports section out.

We needed every hour. After putting the sports section to rest, the press crew said, “Who’s finishing the front page?”

Long—and funny story—short, the front page was empty.

“JB, let’s put a front page together,” he said.

We did just that and then drove to Clarksburg and covered the Matewan game. On the way home, Teddy took a nap. I didn’t say a word. If I would have had a smartphone back then, I would have probably taken some photos.

Some 48-plus hours later, we put the Sunday paper to bed and went home to rest.

And finally, one of my favorite memories of my dear friend was on Oct. 22, 2003. We made the trip to Morgantown to cover WVU and No.3-ranked Virginia Tech. We got a hotel in Flatwoods, West Virginia, a long way from Morgantown.

It was a Thursday night game on ESPN. I had never been to Mountaineer Field.

I was torn… covering the game and kind of being a fan.

We got into the elevator to go from the press box to the field. The Mountaineer mascot was in the elevator with us. “JB, control yourself,” Teddy said, smiling. I was mesmerized.

WVU beat the Hokies 28-7, and fans stormed the field. I was taking photos of the celebration when I got pepper spray, Mace, or something in my eyes. Teddy found me and we went into the facility for the postgame interview.

“JB, you all right?” he asked. I remember thinking, “How am I going to drive us back to Flatwoods?”

The pain subsided and we were standing in the interview area. Virginia Tech Coach Frank Beamer comes by and says, “Teddy, how are you doing?” They exchanged a few words and a heartfelt handshake.

Teddy Paynter was a legend to me. He was a friend to me. He was created from a special mold of mountain scribes that defied technological advances in the industry. He was a connector and a communicator, and he used the power of the pen to bring so many people so much joy.

Shortly after meeting Teddy, I asked him if I could use his signature final line in my columns. He allowed that to happen. I have used it thousands of times.

That ends with this final nod to the Legend and the Dean of Press Row.

One final and heartfelt time… See ya at the games. Teddy, I’ll see you in heaven.

-Your friend, JB