The sink was full of dirty dishes. The bathroom resembled a landfill. You could write your name in the dust on the television set. Once, the oven caught fire - the closest it would come to a cleaning.

In many ways it was typical, this two-bedroom apartment on Bloomington's east side. It had the "lived-in" look you would expect from a couple of sportswriters in their early 20s.

Yet, the place featured an unparalleled conversation piece. Sprawled across the small coffee table in the front room was a prosthetic right arm. In its hand was a cup, in the off chance someone strolled in with a cold beverage to share.

The arm's owner took delight in the surprise/horror on peoples' faces. We both enjoyed it, actually, enough to team up on occasion to startle unsuspecting visitors.

It was circa 1979-80, shortly before we were blessed with wives, children, mortgages, a dust rag - grown-up stuff.

We have been on the same team ever since. The arm is long gone. Designed for use at special occasions - weddings, funerals, etc. - he said it never really fit. So to the trash it went.

Now, Bryan Bloodworth is leaving, too, announcing Thursday he has resigned as Pantagraph sports editor to become the Director of Media/Public Relations for Central Illinois Arena Management.

You know him as the byline in the paper the past 30 years. What you don't know is how the missing right arm has never really mattered, from in front of a keyboard to behind a wheel to playing catch in the backyard.

Born with only his left arm, Bloodworth types as fast as the rest of us, can write notes while walking a football sideline and throws/catches a baseball as quickly as the next guy.

He takes it all for granted and so have we. Yet, not everything has been routine in our time together chasing stories and prying quotes from despondent coaches.

You haven't lived, or appreciated life, until you've ridden with a one-armed man driving 70 miles-an-hour while polishing off a burger, fries and a chocolate shake.

It gives new meaning to "value meal." You value every breath, the second the car comes to a stop.

That aside, it has been a unique ride.

We've gone from electric typewriters and black and white film to personal computers, the Internet and digital cameras.

We've seen new schools built, old ones consolidate and the landscape expand with the explosion of girls/women's sports. We've seen the demise of Chuck Taylor basketball shoes and the invasion of baggy shorts, seemingly overnight.

It has been much longer, of course. The years have flown, just the way those coaches and players said they would: "One game at a time."

One season has melted into the next, with each producing story angles and memories. The reward is in the journey, and this has been a good one.

Yet, 20-something sportswriters don't last forever. They grow older and, ultimately, follow their own path.

Bloodworth's will be a block to the south now, in Bloomington's shiny new downtown anchor, the U.S. Cellular Coliseum. We'll still see him and work with him, albeit in a different capacity. There will still be plenty to talk about.

Even without the conversation piece.

Randy Kindred is a Pantagraph columnist. To leave him a voice mail, call 820-3402. By e-mail: rkindred@pantagraph.com . The Randy Kindred Blog is at www.pantagraph.com /blogs