Gone too soon at 64, despite his stellar fitness level and good diet.
I worked with Coadie for 17 years, half of that time in the sports department at The London Free Press.
I came in as a bright-eyed, idealist and found kinship with Coadie, always excited and enthusiastic to be reporting, despite the fact he had been in a newsroom for more than a decade.
Coadie never became a cynic. His love of sports, journalism and affection for the athletes he covered never waned. I don’t know how he did it.
In a business that is full of distrust – and it has to be to an extent – Coadie never became mired in cynicism. He kept the faith somehow.
His youthful attitude was mirrored in his appearance. He easily looked 20 years younger. Always did.
Everything about him was buoyant.
That’s not to say he didn’t get upset about the state of journalism, working conditions or the stress of an industry mired in dropping ad revenue and subscriptions, as well as the ever-changing technology we use that isn’t always easily adapted.
But he always rebounded: Ready for the next laugh, the next story, the next run.
I will miss you Steve Coad. Thanks for the many ways you made life better.
Thanks for all the talks we had and the fun times we shared at sporting events. Thanks for going with me to Cleveland to cover a story and then sharing a box of Crispy Cremes. Thanks for your presents and your presence.
But above all, thanks for your belief in the good things of this world. Hope you’re enjoying the next world.