SALEM — In case you need proof that this region is sports-crazed and would sell its collective soul for one more Super Bowl championship, let us introduce Exhibit A: Bill Belichick's April 30 appearance at Salem State College.

It is sold out.

In fact, it sold out in 36 hours.

Tickets for Belichick's Salem State College Series speech went on sale last Thursday morning and were gone by noon on Friday. At first, he was booked for the 1,800-capacity basketball court, but the venue was quickly switched to the hockey rink, which holds 3,600.

Selling out in 36 hours ties the record set by former President Bill Clinton, who spoke at Salem State in 2001 just weeks after leaving the White House.

Come to think of it, these two have a lot in common. One headed the greatest country in the world; the other heads the greatest football team in the world. One was a Rhodes scholar; the other is a football genius — whatever that means. One won two presidential elections; the other is a three-time (maybe four) Super Bowl champion. One survived Monicagate; the other, Cameragate.

While trying to stay positive here, the ticket sales for Belichick may reveal something about us as a society. For example, there are some really important people who did not sell out at Salem State — like prime ministers Shimon Peres of Israel and Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan. Nor did Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who won the Nobel Peace Prize.

But offer North Shore residents a chance to stand in Belichick's glow, and the stampede is on. There's even a waiting list for tickets.

Do you think there's something wrong with us?

Ah, what the heck. The Super Bowl is on Sunday, all is well in Patriot Nation, and this is the guy who led us to the promised land. Go Pats!

The story behind the story

The trail that led to the legislation Gov. Deval Patrick signed yesterday to prevent teacher layoffs in the Salem schools began last Thursday morning at Finz restaurant.

State Rep. John Keenan and Mayor Kim Driscoll met for breakfast — Keenan had eggs and fruit — as part of a Boys & Girls Club event. Although they had tried earlier to get state help, they had received only $20,000 from the Department of Education. Driscoll wanted to give it one more shot.

By 4 p.m., they were on a conference call with two officials from the governor's office, somebody from the Department of Revenue and Colleen McGlynn, chief of staff to Sen. Fred Berry of Peabody. Within a half-hour, they had a plan.

Driscoll already was going to Patrick's State of the State Address that night and agreed to meet Keenan at the Statehouse. Before the 7 p.m. address, Berry's office got her a meeting with Senate President Therese Murray. The minute the speech was over, Keenan led the mayor to the rostrum, where they buttonholed House Speaker Sal DiMasi.

Meanwhile, Berry was working the phone from his hospital bed, where he was being treated for an adverse reaction to medication. He talked to Murray and other top officials from Salem Hospital and, hours later, from a rehabilitation facility where was transferred that same day. The Senate majority leader was literally trying to stay on top of Salem's crisis while dealing with his own.

By about 9 p.m., the city had commitments from key legislative leaders for special legislation that would give the city borrow up to $1 million.

"I think whirlwind best describes" the day, Keenan said.

Stand up and cheer

There will be a moving moment Sunday afternoon at the Salem High gym.

Gregory Martinez, the 16-year-old Salem High basketball player who suffered severe injuries in a bike accident last summer, is getting a temporary leave from the hospital to attend the 3 p.m. game.

No. 22 will be in a wheelchair next to his old teammates.

Wish him well.

A farewell for Mr. Joyce

Salem Hospital held a retirement reception Monday for William Joyce, a security guard for 33 years.

It was a little different from most farewells. City Councilor Joan Lovely, whose sister works at the hospital, was there with a citation from the city. And there were surprise visitors — a gang from the Police Department who came with a plaque.

Joyce has been close to the police since the day in 1956 when he arrived in Salem from Limerick, Ireland, where he attended the same school as "Angela's Ashes" author Frank McCourt.

On one of his first days in Salem, Joyce went "legging," or walking, as they say in Ireland. It started to snow, and the more he walked, the more lost he got. Finally, he found himself staring up at the old Salem High (now Collins Middle School) looking at the strange Roman numerals on the building — MCMVIII.

"I didn't have a clue what that was," he said.

Lost and temporarily bewildered by his new country, Joyce turned to see a car approach with blue flashing lights. It was a police car, and inside was the late Capt. William Jennings, who rolled down his window.

"I'm kind of misplaced," Joyce said.

Hearing the brogue, Jennings threw open the door, told Joyce to climb inside and gave him a ride home. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

In the crowd of officers Monday who came to pay tribute to Joyce was Detective William Jennings, the son of the man who extended a hand so many years ago.