The legendary and inspirational writer ends his 13-year print column, "Life of Reilly." Photo courtesy ESPN.com

On March 10, ESPN’s Rick Reilly posted his weekly column on ESPN.com, which is easily the most popular column on the site. View Reilly’s section on the front page—a tiny rectangle that showcases his latest works of wonder—and click on Stop That Coach! Two things jumped out at me:

1) The spoiler alert saying that the article would be published in the Magazine on March 22.

2) That Reilly is hangin’ up the cleats.

Now don’t get all worried like I did. The .com column lives on, as well as a new SportsCenter endeavor. But still, this is the end of an era—at least to me.

It’s a typical Friday afternoon: get out of school, fall asleep on the way home, text my bros and figure out the weekends plans. But as soon as that car pulls into the driveway and lets me out, the mailbox is my one and only destination.

I grab my ESPN The Mag, and immediately turn to the back page. I do my best to read the whole issue before I flip to the end, but I can rarely resist the urge. Sometimes, that’s all I read before the next issue rolls in. Why is this pattern as addictive as quoting The Hangover? One word: Rick Reilly. Well…you get it.

Reilly joined Sports Illustrated in 1985, and began his literary phenomenon in 1997, when “Life of Reilly” debuted on the back page. It was the first of its kind—the first weekly opinion column to grace the last page of the most famous magazine in sports. The rest is history, my friends.

Through his witty sarcasm, strong opinions, and unique flow, Reilly has not only created stability and love for SI, but has entered the classrooms of Liverpool’s own, including Martha White and Alan Pascale.

In 2007, Reilly made the move to ESPN, where he took over the last page, among other ventures for the Worldwide Leader in Sports. The Weekly edition of “Life of Reilly” reached the web, a monthly interview show entitled Homecoming reached the tube, and his golf coverage graced our greens; he even co-wrote Leatherheads, starring George Clooney.

I will never forget Reilly’s SportsCenter piece on Coach Wooden, an intimate interview filled with an admirable bio of the life, times and philosophies of one of the greatest men to ever live, let alone coach basketball.

On vacation in Virginia Beach, the premiere of Homecoming was on in the restaurant. I couldn’t hear it, nor could I read the subtitles, nor did I care because I was a little preoccupied with my vacation, but I remember. I remember because Rick Reilly worked his journalistic magic on the screen.

I’m sure someone will tell me that this column is unnecessary—maybe George, our online editor—and that’s rightfully so; but I felt it was important to honor the man who is the reason that I write this column. He single-handedly influenced me to do this. And believe me, it ain’t easy! This is week number three and my ideas list is already shrinking like George Costanza in the pool. But when I write something, I always think of how Reilly would have done it. How did he use his voice without talking? How did he take a current event and make it funny? How did he take a topic and mold it into a clever twist?

But the era isn’t quite over – it’s just a little adjusted. By Reilly himself:

Note to readers: My math says this column puts me over one million published words. And that doesn’t count books (No. 11 coming up in May), screenplays (two), sonnets, ransom notes and quilts. This is one million too many for many citizens, but the fact remains.

Ironically, this is also my last column for The Mag. I’m going to try my hand at a weekly 90-second essay on “SportsCenter” beginning this spring. I’ll still write longer pieces for The Mag, write my ESPN.com column, host “Homecoming,” cover golf for ESPN and ABC and anchor “SportsCenter” once in a while.

Oh, and no way I’m giving up the flügelhorn.

It’s a typical Wednesday afternoon: get out of school, fall asleep on the way home, text my bros and figure out the weekends plans in advance. But as soon as that car pulls into the driveway and lets me out, the computer is my one and only destination: a 2×3 box with the “Life of Reilly” column, on ESPN.com.