Jenkins was one of a kind who was generous with time, knowledge

“My aunt got me interested in journalism - she found an old typewriter, had it worked over, put it on the dining room table, gave me a stack of paper and said, 'Play like you're a writer.’” --- Dan Jenkins

Dan Jenkins was a personal writing hero of mine. Jenkins didn’t just “play.” He could weave words together into sentence and paragraph gold. First I discovered “Semi-Tough,” and from there I’d read anything he’d written that I could get my hands on. He was immensely gifted and seemed immensely humble about that gift. In my mind, he was everything a Texas sport writer should be. He loved Texas, TCU (his alma mater) and all things that make the Lone Star State special. He made no apologies for that love, and he certainly never worried about being politically correct.

All he did was write like few others could.

Dan Jenkins died Thursday at age 89, and when one of those people you look up to because of the way they practiced the craft you practice is no longer around, it’s a sad day. One of the eternal truths of writing is this: to write well, read good writing. Notice what those who have a mastery of writing are doing and learn from it. That still applies today, and in the all-caps Internet world, truly good writing is harder and harder to find.

Jenkins was sports writing royalty. He had the ability to make his words fly in formation, putting them together with thought, purpose and precision. Few writers have made me laugh out loud more often than Dan Jenkins. Humor was a tool he employed regularly.

For those who may not know, Jenkins started his career at the old Fort Worth Press newspaper, which housed a number of extremely talented writers, including Blackie Sherrod and Bud Shrake. Jenkins went on to a long career with Sports Illustrated as the magazine’s golf writer. He had played golf himself at TCU and covered the game’s greatest in an unrivaled manner.

Many years ago, when the news became official that the Southwest Conference was going to break up and a new athletic alliance called the Big 12 Conference would take its place, we started planning what would become a swan song special section previewing the league’s final (1995) season. Certainly, the section would have a strong Texas Tech flavor, striving to capture significant moments and memories the Red Raiders had created since beginning SWC play in 1960, but we wanted it to be more than that.

For all practical purposes, the Southwest Conference was Texas. Say what you want about the league’s final few years, but please don’t ever sell the SWC short on its athletic pedigree in general and its football heritage in particular. There was something special about autumn Saturdays in the Southwest Conference, and those were about to come to an end not just for Red Raider fans, but also Texas, Texas A&M, Baylor, Houston, TCU, SMU, Rice and even Arkansas fans, so our intent was to try and interview a handful of people who knew how special the league had been.

With that in mind, I had the opportunity to talk to Jenkins. There is a rubber-meets-the-road moment when you talk to someone you’ve long admired. Heck, I had every Jenkins book sitting on my bookshelf at the house in its own specially designated section. I was hoping to pry loose not just a few SWC memories, but also a few unsolicited pointers with peripheral questions like, “How come your written words flow so much more smoothly than mine?” But we never got past the SWC part.

We spoke for about 20 minutes. Jenkins was not happy to see the SWC’s demise. He considered it a tragedy. From his (correct) perspective, money and television were playing outsized roles in college sports. It was not a day for celebration. There were also some hard feelings over the breakup as four former SWC schools were moving into the Big 12 while the other four (TCU, SMU, Houston and Rice) were not, first moving into an expanded WAC and then into other leagues with, ironically, TCU eventually traveling full circle to the Big 12.

Here’s the deal, though, Jenkins was so generous and gracious with his time and insights. He acted like he had all day to talk to someone he did not know about this and probably would have entertained questions as long as I had the breath to ask them. It was a moment, all too rare, by the way, where expectation and reality regarding someone’s personality lined up in what can only be described as a “dead, solid perfect” manner.

What was impressed upon me from that all-too-brief encounter was the Rule of Giving Back to others and making it more than a professional courtesy. This should be especially true with our time since all of us have benefited from insights and wisdom of people who cross our path, if only for a short season. That interview with Dan Jenkins took place more than 20 years ago, and it was the first thing I remembered when I heard of his passing. And it’s something I think about often when I talk to young people interested in journalism and writing.

RIP, Dan Jenkins. You were one of a kind and a Texas treasure. You will be missed, but not forgotten.

Doug Hensley is the associate regional editor and director of commentary for the Globe-News.