“I had no expectation ever to come to Holy Cross.”
It was the first thing noted by a coyly smiling Jim Kavanagh, sitting in his office at the Hart Center at the Luth Athletic Complex, overlooking the Hart Track on a breezy spring afternoon. For someone who graduated from Boston College — historically, a bitter rival of the Crusaders — in the late 1960s, that’s perhaps not the most surprising statement. But it is perhaps a rather ironic statement to hear from one of the longest-tenured head coaches in the Holy Cross athletic department’s history.
Kavanagh’s office is a time capsule of sorts for Holy Cross track and field. It’s filled with stacks and stacks of paper records, accumulated over his 52 seasons with the Crusaders, 46 of which have been as head coach of the cross country and men’s track and field programs, and 22 of which have been as the Richard L. Ahern ’51 Director of Cross Country and Track and Field. Artwork created by former student-athletes adorn the walls, and letters, trophies and framed photographs sit upon his desk. His office is an encapsulation of the wisdom he has bestowed upon so many, and the number of lives he has impacted.
Kavanagh announced on Monday, May 2 that he will retire following the conclusion of the 2022 outdoor season. For someone who never expected to come to Holy Cross, Kavanagh’s fond reflections on his career — which has spanned across six different decades — are overflowing with love and reverence.
The road to that love for Holy Cross was not exactly direct. In one of his first introductions to the Holy Cross community, at a Varsity Club dinner, he was presented as “Jim Kavanagh, who will work with our track and cross country programs — and he went to school in Boston.”
The quick-witted 24-year-old Kavanagh stood up and thanked the crowd, and added: “I did go to school in Boston, and the name of that school is Boston College. Furthermore, although I'm going to be here with the cross country and track programs, I'm actually being sent here on missionary work.”
Kavanagh thought the joke was hysterical, but it certainly didn’t land in a room full of what Kavanagh refers to, tongue-in-cheek, as “purple-blooded former athletes.”
“You could hear a pin drop,” he said.