The story has been shared.

So it shall be again.

My personal experience underscoring why recently departed former U of L SID Kenny Klein was unequivocally the best ever to do what he did.

It was early March of ’99. The year before, U of L had missed the NCAA tourney because of a 12-20 campaign. Despite an underwhelming 19-10 record including a loss to Charlotte in the C-USA tourney final, the Cardinals got an at large bid to return to the Dance, and were headed to Orlando to face Creighton.

While still practicing law, I was also covering sports for LEO (which was still robust and mattered as a weekly alternative paper). The papers owners, seriously connected Louisville Cardinal diehards Blanche Kitchen and John Yarmuth, were to send me to cover the game, if they could get me on as a member of the U of L contingent.

At the time, my day gig was prosecuting in Juvenile Court as a member of the Jefferson County Attorney staff.  We had a workroom behind the courtroom, with a phone to contact witnesses and police officers when necessary.

It was not for personal use. Only two people knew the number. The division chief. His assistant.

I was neither.

Monday morning before the Thursday opening round game, I was advised I had a call on that line.

“c d, it’s Kenny Klein.”

Flabbergasted, I had to ask, “How ever did you get this number? Nobody knows this number.”

Laughing he advised there was a spot for me on the team plane and a hotel room.

To this day, I have no idea how he tracked me down.

It wasn’t the only time he made sure I would have access if desired. On the road to the ’13 national title, I had covered the Cardinals at their first two stops in Lexington and Indy. Unable to attend the FF in Atlanta, I didn’t make a credential request.

Which submissions would need be approved by the competing schools’ SIDs. As the deadline approached, Kenny noticed I hadn’t made a request. Before deadline, he messaged me to make sure I’d be taken care of if necessary.

Kenny Klein went to any length to perform his job, to serve.

The other aspect of his professionalism that resonates was how diplomatically he handled — and survived — several very testy situations.

The forced retirement of Denny Crum.

The not so private feud between Crum and Tom Jurich in the aftermath.

The hiring of Rick Pitino, who always said the right things about his predecessor in public while at U of L, but did most everything he could to undermine Crum’s legacy behind the scenes.

The Chris Mack meltdown and midseason abandonment.

The at loggerheads Jurich vs. the Media frigidness during the Kragthorpe era.

During tense times around the Belknap Campus, Klein was ever discreet and ambassadorial.

There was a singular time I recall Kenny worried whether he could make a situation work.

Louisville was supposed to play JoePa’s Nittany Lions in the debut of Papa John’s Stadium. But It was not ready. So the game was at the Fairgrounds.

Which had an infamously small, rickety, creaky, scary football “press box.” You could sardine 10-12 people in there, but the weight limit was probably 6-8.

Top Five Penn State had a big media contingent. Plus national scribes.

Klein had temporary tables jerryrigged in the upper aisle. He fretted — justifiably so — how adversely it would reflect on the school. He spent the afternoon continuously engaging the visiting media (and locals), making sure we had what we needed despite the untoward accommodations.

He worked to make it work.

How revered was Kenny Klein among his peers?

If paying any attention, you’ve seen the multitude of testimonials.

For three and a half decades he was media statistical coordinator for the Final Four.

His stature was such he had The Best Seat In The House. Literally. Midcourt. First row of press table.

In an era of casual attire, when coaches are wearing collarless workout shirts on the sidelines, Kenny was always proper on game day.

Suit, white shirt and tie.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one, but at his retirement affair at U of L, I told him he should write a book, that he had stories to tell that Cardinal fans would consume voraciously.

In his usual close to the vest manner, he advised, “That will never happen.”

That wellspring of Cardinal history shall be buried with Kenny Klein.

If not his organs, which were harvested to serve others.

Kenny Klein

The. Greatest. Of. All. Time.

— c d kaplan