The ultimate gym rat is gone.

Bill Sudeck, who spent 37 years as basketball and track coach at Case Western Reserve University (and Case Tech before it merged with Western Reserve), along with a lifetime of making friends, died recently after a long bout with cancer.

It is said that if you turned on gym lights anywhere in Cleveland, Bill, who was 74, would find a seat and check out the talent on the floor.

And the first question he would ask high-school seniors was, "How did you do on your SATs?"

While some would look for the best talent on the floor, Bill would cut to the chase and recruit only those who could meet the strict academic standards at Case Western Reserve.

It meant that Bill would be playing from a distinct disadvantage almost every year of his 37 years at the helm, but that didn't seem to matter.

Whomever he was able to recruit were his guys.

They were another batch of future doctors and lawyers he could take into what he liked to call his lab class, which just happened to have baskets at both ends. It also had numerous field trips to places like Ohio Wesleyan, Denison, Wooster, Oberlin and Allegheny.

For two years as sports information director at Case Western Reserve, I was able to join Bill on those trips. He'd take the wheel of the van and I'd play co-pilot with the team in the rear.

I remember one trip down Interstate 71 when I saw a high-priced car with Ohio license plate "O" pass our van.

I asked the coach to pick up the pace to check out the car because I thought it might be Oscar Robertson at the wheel.

Bill obliged and set sail for the car. We pulled even and exchanged waves with one of the best basketball players ever, right there on I-71.

To our amazement, Bill and I were the only two to get excited. The van full of college basketball players were too far removed by time to even know who "The Big O" was.

While Bill's players may not have known about Robertson, they did know that they had an outstanding person coaching who could relate to their problems.

They knew that Bill cared more about them than wins and losses on the hardwood.

What was important for Bill was to learn from each and every game, practice or conversation about the game.

Before starting conference play, Bill would line up invitations for his team to play in holiday tournaments in various spots along the East Coast.

We joked about why he played in tournaments for a majority of December nonconference games.

He once said, "If you play in a tournament and go on a two-game win streak, you get a trophy, and any time you can get a trophy, that's pretty good."

I had to agree and sent those words out to The NCAA News to see if they would fly in that national publication.

They did and were later picked up by the Los Angeles Times.

That led to some of Bill's former players reading it and giving him a call.

I think that hearing from his former players meant more to Bill than just about anything outside his family.

But then again, his players were really an extension of his family.

In my two years working with Bill, I saw a familiar scene. In between Bill making or receiving an endless stream of phone calls, one of his former players would find his way to the coach's office, sit down and wait for the phone conversation to end. And with that, Bill would give his undivided attention to one of his former "lab students" -- at least until the phone would ring on a call from yet another former player who wanted to touch base.

Wherever Bill went, he held court. Be it in his office, a favorite lunch spot or in one of those gyms that dared turn on the lights and have a ball ready to be tossed to start a game, the center of attention was Bill and whatever was on his mind.

To say Bill Sudeck will be missed is a grand understatement. That was evident from the line to pay last respects at the funeral home. It stretched deep into the parking lot, and no one complained.

To say Bill was one of a kind also is obvious to anyone who ever met the man. You would never come away from a day with Bill without feeling good about yourself. He gave you a reason to look forward to tomorrow.

Those who knew Bill will miss him. I will miss calling him to check on dates for his annual summer basketball camp.

The camp stood for everything good about Bill and basketball, and I wanted to make sure that those interested in such a camp knew how to sign up.

I can bet that everyone who stood in that long receiving line at the funeral home takes with them a lifetime of memories.

But I feel bad for Bill's current players. They will never be able to stop by the coach's office or give him a call to let him know how well they turned out with his help.

Dale Meggas is sports editor of the Lakewood (Ohio) Sun Post.