Month: July 2021

I met Darryl Rodgers at the National College Coaches convention in 1978 thru some friends.  He had been the head football coach at Michigan State and was just making a step to take on the job at Arizona State.

 

I was set up to talk to him about joining his staff  as a defensive coach and someone who would also run the conditioning program for the team.  What he was looking for was a coach who could work on the field and also handle the task of training his players during the off-season.

This is something I could do – but, as he and I talked it became pretty apparent it wasn’t going to be me.  He wanted a more seasoned coach who had more experience than I did.  He didn’t want a young (yeah I was once young) graduate assistant from New Mexico State.  He wanted a veteran.

He didn’t want some youngster because this was a big-time job in a major conference and required someone who had experience in big games with really good players.  Obviously, I did not fit that bill.

I did not get the job …. But not so fast Batman.

Many months later – actually it was early August I got a call from one of the assistant coaches at Arizona State.  CT Hewgley was the Center and Guards coach for the Sun Devils and he had made the original contact with me about the job.  He asked if I might still be interested in the job.

Well, no kidding!  Only problem was that we had just started our training camp at New Mexico State and obviously I felt some allegiance to Coach Gil Krueger and the rest of the coaches and players.  I had gotten quite close to several coaches and really was having a good time on the State staff even if I thought Gil was a bit of an overbearing ass.

I told CT that I needed to talk with Coach Krueger and would get back to him the next morning.

When I went in to see Krueger I had a plan in mind.  After getting to sit down
with him I explained the situation and that I would be glad to remain in Las Cruces (Home of the NMSU) if he could pay me as a part-time coach instead of a Graduate Assistant.

In hindsight, I look at what an idiot I was.

Here, as a Graduate Assistant I was making three hundred dollars a month – I was asking Gil for $10,000 a year.  He dropped his half-moon glasses down his nose and stared at me …. In his deep gruff voice he said (with venom I might add) “Coach Clemons – first off you are disloyal and second you are just a grad assistant.  In my eyes you are just that and always be that – a fucking grad assistant!”

I left his office – walked down the hallway and our offensive line coach Don Christensen grabbed me and pulled me into his office.  In all honesty, I was nearly in tears.  I explained what was going on.  Don was a great friend and his family had taken me in and taken care of me like I was one of them.

I’ll never forget his words.  “Listen you idiot – go home pack up your pickup and drive six hours west.  Don’t stay here another second.”  He actually might have called me a “fucking” idiot act (pardon my French)!

On the way back to my apartment I ran into a few players and a former player John Cordova (who was now working on the coaching staff as a GA).  I told them all what was going on and they were sad to see me go – but were excited for my opportunity.

I loaded up “Old Bess” my yellow pickup truck headed west to Tempe, Arizona to become an assistant coach for Darryl Rogers and the Arizona State Sun Devils.

At some point, I realized what a tremendous opportunity I was being given.  Staying as a member of the New Mexico State staff would have been really stupid on my part.  The money – well, that is one thing.  But, the chance to work with some of the finest athletes and coaches at a higher level – it should have been a no brainer.  Well, later in life I truly realized how lucky I was.

After arriving in Tempe, it was apparent how much better the Sun Devil players were.  Honestly no offense to the NMSU team.  I loved those guys.  But the Pac-10 compared to the Missouri Valley Conference (The league New Mexico State played in) it wasn’t even close.

After getting to Tempe – I sat down with Darryl Rogers to formulate a conditioning program for the team as well as get my on the field assignments.  DR (as we called him) really didn’t want to have anything to do with what I was handling.  He said “Hey Don – that weight lifting stuff is all yours – you get with the defense to see what you are going to do for football.”

Pretty much that was it.

Well, he did tell me two other things.  First don’t tell anyone else in the athletic department how much money I was making.  I didn’t understand that and why would I bring that up anyway?  DR then told me that I was earning more than everyone else in the athletic department with the exception of the basketball coach. (Yet I was the lowest paid full-time coach on the football staff.)

This was stunning because the baseball coach Jim Brock had already won the National Championship at the College World Series and obviously was pretty good at his job.

I guess football was pretty damn important to Arizona State!

The second thing he told me was this.  DR told me that I was his fourth choice for the position I now held.  He said they brought in one guy who lasted a month and then had to let him go because he couldn’t handle it.  Two other coaches were offered the job at Arizona State and turned it down (I’m thinking that those guys must be idiots)!

So, I was the fourth choice.

I didn’t care – just happy to be a Sun Devil.  Think about my last year … making ten-grand as a sixth grade teacher in Pennsylvania – quit to take a job for three hundred dollars a month as a Grad Assistant at New Mexico State – get to Arizona State where I am one of the highest paid people in the athletic department.

The funny thing was that I became pretty close to Darryl and his entire family.  I truly loved DR and his wife Marsha and their children.  I know he was glad to have me on his staff at ASU because he eventually thought enough of me to bring me into the NFL.

Whenever DR would introduce me to a new friend he would say … “Hey this is Don Clemons our defensive coach.  He was my fourth choice … but I love him!”  If I had a dollar for every time I heard that introduction I would be rich.

But you know what – who cares I still feel such gratitude to have that opportunity Coach Rogers gave me.

 

 

 

 

Over the years in football you develop some great relationships.  I consider myself lucky in this area.  Many hours spent together with a common goal causes you to become close to coaches, administrators and also players.

I consider myself to have been around several people in every category.  One

of the greatest stories I can tell is my friendship with Chris Spielman and the late Eric Andolsek.  Two fantastic players who just happened to be really special men.

We had selected both Eric and Chris during the 1988 NFL draft.  The Lions picked Chris in the second round and he had been a two time All-American at linebacker playing for Ohio State – Eric a fifth-round pick as an offensive guard after an outstanding career at LSU.

There was a backstory to having both of these guys on the team in Detroit.

Well, Ohio state went down to Baton Rouge to play the LSU Tigers in 1987.  Prior to the game apparently the Buckeyes were held inside of the locker room by their coach Earle Bruce because they did not want to run onto the field before the home team.

Consider this also.  It is traditional for the home team to enter the field after the visitors.  It was obvious that Bruce was intentionally doing this to fire his team up and develop an “us against the world mind set.”  He was also trying to distract the home team as well.

This certainly pissed off the Tigers and their fans who were just waiting to disrespect and boo the visitors from the north.  (Also, I think it should have been a delay of game penalty and I am not sure that it was called??)

By the time things got sorted out and the referees got the captains out for the coin toss ten or fifteen minutes had elapsed.  Well, lo and behold two of the opposing co-captains during the game were Spielman for Ohio State and Andolsek for LSU.

Chris had already cemented his reputation as a great player and an All-American linebacker.  Hmmm by the way … the guy who had to block him the whole day was going to be Eric.  Both of these guys very intense, confident and stubborn.  Long on ability and toughness – and neither willing to back down.  It was going to be a long hard day for both players.

From what I understand after the coin toss – the captains were instructed to move to their designated sides.  As they did Eric took the time to allegedly bump into Chris.  Commotion resulted and then a fight broke out between both teams.  (Rumor has it Chris and Eric locked up – but probably urban legend.)

The fight was epic and it changed college football.  Prior to this game all players on both teams would walk out and stand about ten yards from their captains watching the coin toss.  As you can imagine this was an intimidating tactic to stoke up solidarity plus juice the adrenalin and testosterone.

Well, with both teams standing twenty or so yards apart – it made for a quick skirmish between the two opponents.  A week later the NCAA banned any players other than the captains past their respective sidelines.

After sorting things out the game went on between two great teams from different sections of the country.  It ended in a 13-13 tie.  LSU eventually ended the year at 10-1-1 and the massive fight is apparently documented on the walls of Ruffino’s Restaurant in Baton Rouge.

It is on my list of things to see by the way.

Later, when they both played their rookie year in Detroit they became fast friends and roommates.  They were inseparable and really added a great deal to our team as players and people.  They were well-liked by their teammates and respected by their peers due to their prowess on the field.

I can truly say I love (loved) those guys.

Now, Chris can be a sly dog when he wants to.  As training camp and the preseason progressed it was obvious that he and I were bound to develop a strong bond.  He spent so much time in the weight room I had to chase him out.  It became a joke because he would tell me that he really had nothing else to do except football and weight lifting.

So, as the regular season was about to begin he sidled up to me one afternoon and asked me what I did on Friday evenings.  I told him that my wife Shawn and I would normally grill on our apartment porch, drink a few beers …well, at least I did the drinking part.

He told me that since he and his roommate Eric were bachelors they had nothing to do on Fridays.  Well … I could see where this was going.  I told him to skip the preamble and just to come on over and we would get the grill going and all eat together.

This became our weekly tradition throughout the season.  Chris and Eric would come over every Friday and we would get the barbeque going – sit around have a beer or two.  Head on over to the local high school and watch the first half of a football game and they would head home.

It was an awesome experience – it truly was.  These guys were outstanding young men and I really got a look into their lives – their hopes and dreams, the happiness and disappointments we all went through during an NFL season.

I watched them both grow up as young men – only to lose Eric in a terrible accident in his hometown after a truck ran off the road and struck him while he was trimming the grass in his yard.  It was just so sad to see a friend who was so indestructible lose his life at such a young age.

Chris continued on despite losing his closest friend.  He struggled with it as all of Eric’s friends did as well. Chris once told me that there was no reason for things like this to happen – no explanation for it.

Well, there is no figuring things like that out.  My own rationale was that I guessed God needed an offense guard for his team in.  Our loss was certainly Heaven’s gain.

 

 

In major college football coaching is basically broken down into two groups as per the NCAA.  First you have the “fulltime” coaches of which you are allowed nine plus the head coach.  You then have two “on-field” Graduate Assistant Coaches (GA’s) and two non-coaching Graduate Assistants who have various duties including developing scouting reports and analyzing opponents.

There are all kinds of other guys running around the office as well.  You have senior coaches – who do no on the field coaching but work with scouting, recruiting and so on.  There are academic counselors, strength coaches, administrative assistants and so on and so forth.  But, you get the picture.

When I first started coaching a Division 1 staff was limited to eight fulltime coaches, but the number of GA’s you had was only limited by your football budget.  So, whatever you wanted to spend was up to the head football coach and athletic director.

In essence, the graduate assistant coach is in a learning position and the fulltime assistants are there to guide them, teach them football etc.  In return the GA gets a small stipend to live on and his graduate studies are paid for by the athletic department.

When you are a graduate assistant coach and you get all the low-level football jobs.  As we used to say you are lower than “whale shit on the bottom of the ocean.”  Well, that’s the way it is – but it is a rite of passage.

You are the least relevant guys on the staff.  The fulltime coaches are doing all the important stuff like game planning, coaching the individual groups, meeting about what needs to be done.

They are more experienced coaches who are paid a salary by the school – have medical insurance (mental and dental as we like to say), have a retirement fund and often have a car sponsored by a dealership in town – and a bunch of other perks.

So basically compared to the full-time coaches you were pretty much just cheap help.  But, to move up the coaching chain you had to put in your time and pay your dues.

Now, as a GA you might get blamed for something you really had no control over.  But, don’t worry you aren’t going to get any credit for anything that goes right.

The GA’s are doing all of the runaround things that the eight or nine fulltime guys feel are below their stature – or sometimes is just too lazy to do for themselves.

If someone needs something run off on the printer or some extra film watched – you get to do it.  If they need someone to track down a player or take attendance at a study hall – well that is your job whether it was assigned to you or not.

Let me back track here to explain a few things to the non-football people who are crazy enough to read about these episodes.  Full-time coaches are just that.  It is their job to coach the football team.

Graduate assistant coaches are generally guys who have recently finished college.  They are trading off their beginning coaching experiences (to learn from the full-time guys how to coach – theoretically – anyway.) for a chance to work on a master’s degree.

As a GA at New Mexico State I received $300 a month and the school paid for my grad courses.  Well, I never went to the classes because the Head Coach discouraged it.  He said if you earned a master’s degree you were spending too much time on school and not enough time working in the football office. (The other three GA’s with me all earned their Master’s degrees while I obviously did not.)

But, being a GA is essential to your career path in football.  Almost all guys who get a fulltime job in football have been a GA at one time or another.  It was how you broke in and met people who could pull you ahead. It’s just the way it is done in athletics.

Hell, I always thought I was lucky to find a job as a grad ass (often we went by the name of grad ass) because they are hard to get.   I literally spent two years trying to break into Division I football as a GA.  Those are coveted spots and with only four per major college staff now days very had to work your way in unless you were a player at a big school.

So, when you are lucky (did I say lucky?) enough to get one – put your head down, shut your mouth and get to work.

This is the way you will learn to be a coach!  You might also say that sometimes you learn what not to do to be a coach.  Later you learn that some of the stuff you see is just a bunch of bullshit.

That’s just the way it is.  You aid the fulltime position coaches with their own workday.  Yet, you have your assignments to get done as well.  Trust me if you keep a good attitude it isn’t that terrible.  But, it can be hard on your ego!

As you can imagine sometimes you are taken advantage of – think of an intern in the office at JP Morgan.  Interns in business are like GA’s in football.  You are there to be mentored and to learn the job.

A lot of the time you end up cleaning up meeting rooms.  Making sure everyone has pens and paper.  Running down trivial jobs that are too far beneath the full timers to do.

I have seen a graduate assistant (GA) called into a coaches’ office and told to run down the street to buy donuts for a staff meeting – (by the way) using his own dwindling money, another had to drive the head coach’s car to his home so his wife could have it (without giving the GA a ride back by the way).  And, a thousand other BS jobs that the fulltime coach is sometimes just too busy (or like I said earlier too lazy) to do himself.

But, that’s the way it works.  No one said it was easy, and no one said it was going to be fair.

Some GA’s move on to become fulltime coaches … others don’t and some decide the job is not for them and they get into a more normal business.  Of the  three other guys I spent my GA year – I was the only one to stay in college football..

One went back home to PA and became a coach and athletic director, one coached a few years in college then got out and the third returned to Montana and became a principal and later a superintendent of schools.

We had a fifth guy who came in later.  I am not sure what he ended up doing, but he didn’t stay in college coaching though.

To be honest with you I never understood why any fulltime coach would take advantage – or abuse – a grad assistant.  It never made any sense to me.  When I was fortunate to land my first fulltime job (Arizona State) I went out of my way to make sure the rookie coaches were taken care of.

Well, there was one of the reasons I got the nickname “Big Daddy.”  Mostly because I bought the guys beer, or got them fed.  But quite honestly Coach Rogers at Arizona State and his staff were really great to the young coaches – they appreciated the help they gave..

But, I can guarantee you one thing – every coach has a “GA” story.  Coaches are generally great story-tellers (alright “bullshitters” might be more closer to the mark.)  I can’t tell you the several million (hyperbole – OK) times I sat around a table stacked with beer cans with a group of coaches telling and listening to football stories.

Well, here is my graduate assistant coach story from New Mexico State.

The head coach Gil Krueger who was a prickly guy with a pretty healthy ego. He would hand out jobs to the GA’s to make sure the full-time coaches could spend time with their serious work and not have to worry about minor things around the office.

For instance – one of the four of us grad assistants was responsible for making sure the practices were filmed (notice I said filmed – there was no video equipment in those days, there were 16 millimeter cameras).

Another had to make sure the student managers had all of the practice gear on the field – things like dummies, sleds, step over bags…and most importantly footballs!

To this day I think my job might have been the most unique GA “shit” job ever in the history of football.

I was in charge of the laundry.  Yes, the laundry.  On the surface it could …  no, should have been a very simple job.  But, not so fast Batman!

At NMSU we had no washing machines and dryers in the football stadium.  So, every day all of the sweaty jerseys, pants, jocks, socks and towels had to be packed up in duffel bags and brought downtown (about two miles) to a laundromat – put into washing machines to get cleaned and then into the dryers to get dried.

I was to oversee that process.

Well, Gil gave me a player who was ineligible – Dee Taylor – to be the guy to actually do the job.  I was just to supervise him and make sure everything went properly.  I wouldn’t actually have to do the work.  That was Dee’s job.

Like I said, he would pack up the laundry load it into an athletic department truck and take it downtown.  Then he would physically load the washers and then the dryers – wait around, repack the duffel bags and drive the now clean laundry back to the stadium.

Now, the reason Dee was ineligible was because basically he was a lazy dumbass who didn’t go to class and was cruising through.  But, since he was on scholarship Coach Krueger wanted him to at least earn his way.

Things went well for about a week or so in summer football camp.  The laundry was getting done.  Gear was being handed out nice and clean.  But, all good things must come to an end.

Dee went AWOL on me during week two and the gear wasn’t cleaned one morning.

Now, no one wants to go to practice in shorts and t shirts that are  damp with old sweat let alone  wet jock straps  that smelled bad.  Oh yeah remember our school is in the southwestern desert … hmmm could get a little toasty out there on the practice field.

Naturally – and rightly so – players complained about the unwashed gear.

Gil called me in and ripped me up one side and down the other.  Called me some nice words and so on.  I tried to defend myself (wrong, wrong, wrong idea … no excuses please1) by explaining the missing Dee Taylor.

As I recall the Head Coach just had this incredulous look on his face and in no uncertain terms told me that (pardon my French here) I was a stupid fucking son of a bitch with even more nice words worked in!

He said he didn’t want to hear any bullshit excuses and if I couldn’t figure out what to do about the laundry I could pack up my pickup truck and go back home to Pennsylvania.  He said he didn’t give a rat’s ass if Dee ever showed up again, it was my responsibility to get the gear cleaned.

So, I learned pretty quickly that I had a new job – the actual task of doing the laundry myself.

Dee Taylor was never seen again!

For an entire eleven-game season I did the laundry for the New Mexico State Aggies’ football team.  Every morning from late August to the weekend before Thanksgiving I was on call to do this job.

I would get up each morning around five o’clock (at times with a hangover – no, make that many times with a hangover) walk over to the stadium load the laundry into a 1956 white Chevy Apache panel truck and drive down to the laundromat.

I had to get to the laundromat before it was opened to the public because I was going to use most of the machines in the place for the team’s laundry.

The owner of the laundromat was a real nice guy and I think he realized the bad job I got put into.  He would hand me a sack of quarters and I would load the machines, set the dials put the quarters in the slots and then sit on my butt for an hour while everything got soaped and rinsed.

Then I would load everything into driers and finish up my job.  Luckily, I am an avid reader, because I spent several hours a day for an entire season sitting on some hard and uncomfortable orange plastic chairs reading and doing crossword puzzles in a downtown Las Cruces, New Mexico laundromat.

There was a benefit however.

I missed every single eight o’clock staff meeting.  It was awesome! …. Here’s why it was so great.

At the eight o’clock staff meetings all the coaches would gather in a big meeting room and discus the previous day of practice, the game plan and so on.  Then they would plan out the work and practice for that day.

But, Gil would take part of that meeting time and go around the room and basically call out each coach one by one and actually tell them they were doing shitty jobs in preparing “his” team.

Now we had a bad team – granted.  We only won two or three games that year.  But, to blame everyone around the captain of a sinking ship was ridiculous.  So, in a lot of these meetings you had to sit through stories of Gil’s great career  – winning a national championship at Northern Michigan and his other great achievements and then you had to accept what amounted to an ass chewing.

Well, I got to miss pretty much every single one of those meetings.  Perhaps laundry duty was worth the price on not getting bitched at every day.

Now, back home in PA a lot of my buddies thought I was on my way – big time coach in a major college.  Some were actually envious.  Boy, if they only knew some of the bullshit involved.  (Think about it, a lower than whale shit grad assistant coach at a losing low level major college with a jackass for a head coach!  … how great will that look on my resume?)

I still recall the last day I did my laundry job.

I call this part “The Last Ride”.

The Friday before the eleventh and final game (I think we were going to play at Southern Illinois) I did my last batch of laundry.  I loaded the many duffel bags of dirty gear into the rear of the truck.

Let me tell you a little about the 1956 Chevy Apache.  Also known as the “Laundry Wagon”.  First of all, it was 20 some years old already.  It was painted primer white.  The truck had no seats at all.  So, I took an empty five-gallon paint bucket and put a piece of carpet on top of it to make it at least somewhat comfortable for me to sit and drive.

This beauty had a three-speed manual transmission that was on the steering column.  (“Three-on-the-tree” as we called it in those days).  Luckily, I was acquainted with driving a standard shift since my own truck had one.  Of course, the clutch would slip and it was a herky-jerky effort to get the Apache moving from a stop.

The windows obviously were crank jobs and the passenger side window did not roll down at all.  But, it was only a two-mile trip from the stadium to the laundromat – so not an issue.  Someone had taped a big feather on the Chevy hood ornament (probably would piss of the PC people now days – too bad!).  Well – think … Apache.

Oh yeah – only one headlight would work and neither of the taillights had worked for years.

But, the best for last, the windshield wipers did not operate at all.  Well, living in the southwestern desert it usually only rained in the “Monsoon Season in New Mexico” (OK- look it up – there is a “Monsoon Season”) and you really didn’t need wipers.

I shit you not – that was my beautiful 1956 Apache laundry truck.  You may think I am making this up but I swear it is the truth.

So, the Friday morning – a week before Thanksgiving – Right around dawn I haul the dirty gear from the stadium locker room and load it into the back of the Apache.

The sky was just starting to brighten up and yet you could tell it was going to be overcast and rainy.  Now remember the condition of my transportation.

It’s still pretty dark, it’s raining and I was probably hung-over.

I jump into the primer white panel truck for my last ride to the laundromat.  I still remember my thoughts to this day.  I truly said this out loud that day.  “Here I am in New Mexico – big time football coach driving a panel truck full of dirty laundry with no front seat, no headlights or windshield wipers.  It’s dark and it is raining.  If my friends could see me now.”

The big time isn’t always the big time and working in Division I football isn’t always as it is portrayed.  Over the years I learned from someone else’s wisdom — never take yourself to seriously.

By the way I never saw Dee Taylor again and I would bet money he is still skating by somewhere.  But, he adds to the context and humor of this story!

Hah … what a life!

One evening I had to call my friend Bert Hill to get verification of this story.  Obviously, the stories I remember have seemed to change as I have aged.  I think they are one thing, then – I talk to someone who was also there and I realize I have forgotten some key points.

Oh well, that’s what happens – I’m sure some of my friends have experienced similar gaps in their memories.

My friend – the late great John Teerinck had a great saying – or riddle I guess you might call it.  He often would throw this teaser out there?  Where do you go during a tornado warning?

His answer – you have two choices – “The first is a strip joint, and the other is a bar!”  It was a very effective conversation starter for him.  His point being this – the places you hear about being destroyed are trailer parks, churches, schools and malls.

Do you ever hear of a strip joint or bar being wrecked?

The answer is no you don’t.

We were playing an early season game in Cincinnati.  (This is the point I had to clarify with Bert by the way – I couldn’t remember if it was pre-season or early season.  Bert also believed it was Cincinnati also not remembering the exact time of the season).  So, we win the game and we can see that there is some bad weather coming in pretty quickly.  Dark clouds surrounding the stadium.

Everyone on the team can see that this was going to be pretty bad as the skies started looking ugly and the breeze began picking up just as the game was ending.  Well, usually it takes a little time to get everyone – players, coaches out of the locker room – especially after a win.  Plus, the equipment guys have to pack up all the gear

Interestingly enough the rapidly changing weather put the guys into a fast forward mode and the team showered up relatively quickly and the equipment staff was able to load the gear and get everything organized in a pretty timely fashion.

We loaded the busses and got on the road for the relatively short trip to the airport just as the rain started up.  It really looked pretty bad, and there were some reports of tornadoes in the area.

As is normal with team travel – the busses drive directly on the tarmac to your waiting jet (rarely did we go through the terminal).  But, instead of getting off of the busses the team was told to sit tight and some of the operations people went into the terminal to find out what the status of flying out of the airport was.

Now, the weather was beginning to deteriorate pretty quickly and one end of the airport was getting darker and darker.  Well, those of us on the busses were getting a little nervous.  The busses were actually rocking with the gusts of wind.

We were getting no information from anyone (this is before cell phone days).  Finally, one of the offensive linemen got up and said “To hell with this – I’m not sitting on this tin can!”  He gets up walks to the front of the bus – well the bus driver said he couldn’t let him off.

I can tell you it isn’t smart to tell a six foot six, three-hundred-pound guy what to do…. He basically told the driver he was getting out and going into the terminal.  He opened the door himself and went into the terminal.

Right after seeing that happen we all jumped out of the busses and ran into the terminal as it  started to rain pretty hard.  There wasn’t anyone going to stop a whole professional football team from doing what they wanted at that moment.

So, anyway we get into the terminal and the place is basically shut down – no one was flying out or landing in that storm.  Well, where does everyone go?  To the nearest bar inside the place.  It was already pretty full with other waiting passengers also hoping to get out.  You can imagine how full it was when most of our guys showed up.

Of course, John Teerlinck was leading the charge at the bar.  He was two fisting his Miller Lite like the world was going to end.  He was what I considered a true professional when it came down to drinking beer.  I have seen a number of excellent beer drinkers, but “JT” is by far the best of all time.

After about twenty or thirty minutes of “stress relief” an airport public announcement was made informing everyone that a tornado had indeed touched down at the end of the runway.  Everyone was told to go to the lower level and go into the bathrooms for shelter.  Yup, sounds funny now – but there was indeed a mad rush to get downstairs into the rest rooms.

We spent probably another half an hour or so in those bathrooms – trust me there were a lot of people in those so-called shelters.  It was crowded and I think after a little while we all felt a little sheepish cowering in the basement of an airport terminal.

Funny thing I never saw JT in our area.  But, there were several bathrooms on the lower level, so he could have been in one of the other ones. But, it turns out he wasn’t.

Later when the tornado warning ended and we could board our jet I ran into John as we boarded the jet.   I asked him where he was sheltering –  he told me that he had just stayed in the bar when everyone went downstairs.

JT simply bought a few extra beers before the bartender high tailed it out of the bar himself so John just sat up there by himself drinking Miller Lite.  “Remember Donny – you never hear about a bar being destroyed by a tornado!”  The things you learn in football!

There are many things I am thankful for in football.   But there were two important things that really started me off on a good path.

First, I played for some good coaches.

In Northampton, Pennsylvania from little league on thru Freshman, Junior Varsity and finally Varsity football as a Konkrete Kid (Yeah the name of my Blog konkretekidinfootball.com – guess where that came from??!!) we had very good coaches who were also solid role models.

Then in college at Muhlenberg a very good coaching staff who helped not only me, but so many others stay on the right path (OK, admittedly I veered off that path here and there – OK, quite a lot in fact).  Frank Marino and Sam Beidelman were the only full-time coaches and they allowed us to grow up, but they kept a careful eye on us and knew when to pull the leash tight as we went through those college years.

Another big influence was that I was fortunate to start out coaching at Kutztown State College.  I was surrounded by very good coaches and we were led by one of the finest men I ever met – George Baldwin.

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The little league coaches were all good men – they taught us football from a fundamental standpoint – more importantly they were solid people.   Rich Derkits, Bill Beidleman, John Legath, Bouncy Zepp, Hosh Herschman – well even Mertz!  They gave so much more than they got back.

****Well I have to say Rich Derkits did teach me some good cuss words.  I consider myself a professional in this area and I credit him with my success.****

Even the Junior High coaches we had made the game fun.  Hell, our freshman year I don’t think we won a game (Have to check with my pal Eric Butler though because he would remember since we went through elementary, junior high and senior high school and then college playing together football together!).  We were pretty bad that ninth grade year.

Having a coach like Donnie Carbone however did make things interesting and despite our shortcomings on the field he kept things light.

Early in the season Carbone said that our team played like a bunch of Italian sailors  … “Chickens of the Sea.”  Nowadays the PC police would have probably

been bitching at him.  But in the late 60’s what we said on the field stayed there.  In fact, a bunch of us went home and took the labels off of the tuna cans in our cupboards.

We taped them on our helmets and many of the guys on the team were wearing “Charlie the Tuna” proudly.  Donnie Carbone took great delight as we proclaimed ourselves “Chickens of the Sea!”

Carbone and the rest of the coaches who worked with us younger players did prepare us in the basics of football and by the time we played for the varsity we were pretty good.  It really does come down to learning and executing fundamentals – that never changes – from little league thru college and into professional football it depends on blocking and tackling, throwing and catching, running and kicking.

Lou Wolf our varsity coach at Northampton was really a down to earth man and a very good teacher.  I know that some of the players and parents didn’t always think he was a good guy or a good coach.  But, in him I saw a man who really cared about us and who truly loved coaching.  Plus, we were very successful on the field.

I really wanted to find a job like he had – because he always seemed to be happy on the field.  Once he and I were talking after a game and he told me it was the only job he ever wanted – being the coach.  The extra bonus was being the coach in his hometown.

There was a time when I thought it would be phenomenal to be the head coach in Northampton to return to lead the Konkrete Kids.  But, as I aged I realized all of the crap you have to put up with when you were in your hometown.  Everyone knows you and certainly everyone knows how to do your job better than you do.

Sprinkle in the parents  …  yeah the parents may be the biggest drag on high school sports.  Everyone’s little Johnny or Mary is going to be a sports star.  But, I am off the track right now – plus don’t want to go down that road.

Frank Marino our head coach at Muhlenberg gave me the final push into the coaching world.  We often spent time bullshitting about our current teams, coaching philosophies and the game itself.  We would spend hours just exploring hot button topics in athletics – oh yeah – a lot of this happened while I was supposed to be in class.  (Me …. go to class … ??  Too many other fun things to do.)

****Remember what Mark Twain said (yeah, but understand I was an English major) …”Don’t let the books get in the way of your education!”****  (Honest!  I can’t make this shit up!)

Coach Marino told me one afternoon that coaching football was the only thing he ever wanted to do.  HMMM …. So much like my high school coach Lou Wolf said it was the fun part of his career – Frank was doing the same.  He told me that I should think about getting into the profession …. “you won’t make a lot of money.  But, you will make a lot of friends and find it a lot fun.”

Well, I missed a lot of classes talking about football – might as well take advantage of the things I learned in the classroom of football.  I wasn’t very smart, but I was just smart enough to stumble into an awesome (mis)adventure for life!

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Starting my coaching career off at Kutztown was also a very important fork in my path through the coaching profession.  The coaches and players that I worked with during those first two-years were critical in my deciding to move on and figure out my life and chase my dreams.

No one was more instrumental in my decision to make coaching my livelihood than George Baldwin the head coach of the Kutztown State (I know it’s now Kutztown University) Golden Bears.  He was an amazing man who truly was a leader of young men.

He was also a very grounded person.  Married with children, religious and a former US Marine.  Yup, he sported the GI flattop and stood ramrod straight at the playing of the National Anthem.  I truly admire this man and his values to this day.

Well then of course, he did convince me to work for twoyears without pay (well, he hoodwinked one of my closest friends –  Scot Dapp to do it as well – he’s not real smart either.)  But, it was well worth the experience.

Rarely, if ever did George lose his temper.  He never swore (I mean never!) and although he had some old-fashioned ideas for the late seventies – he had the respect of everyone.   From players to coaches, administrators, opponents and boosters – I rarely if ever heard anyone say a bad work about Coach Baldwin.

We were in a period where earrings, facial hair and young people questioning authority and experimenting with drugs had become the norm.  During those years – the seventies – well it was a very interesting time.

I was pretty much a middle of the road guy – Long hair, mustache.  But Coach had his values and he was sticking to them.

While George was willing to accept his players and coaches having a few beers and raising some hell – he would not suffer fools.  But, while he could be tough it was his complete honesty and sincerity that affected us all so deeply.

Like most successful leaders George had very few rules.  Pretty much common-sense stuff.  Don’t be late for anything, respect your coaches, teammates, classmates and teachers.  BUT WAIT and no earrings or facial hair for anyone with Kutztown football – players but us COACHES as well.

What did you say – no facial hair??  No earrings??  Yup, if you wanted to coach or play at Kutztown State (OK – Kutztown University) you were going to look clean and didn’t need jewelry.  Come on it’s the seventies! (You know … Sex Drugs and rock and roll – throw in some mustaches and earrings as well.)

The seventies – the decade of rebellion and awareness!  The Age of Aquarius!  Pass the joint and let’s hear about that sexual awaking we all were waiting (hoping) for.

But George, who as I said  was a former Marine complete with crew cut, was able to impress his values upon all of us.  He was able to bring everyone together – to not only have a common goal of winning – but to become as close to a unit as possible.

Coach would say he wanted us to be “Americans!”

When anyone would question why he wanted these things done he would say ….  “I don’t get it, does that mustache make you coach or play any better?”  “Is that earring going to make you tackle those backs any better?”

Football is American – you don’t need mustaches or earrings to be an American!

But we all bought in – I shaved off my mustache (never wore an earring so it wasn’t an issue).  Got cleaned up and was a Golden Bear!  I was an American!

To this day those of us who coached and/or for George still tell Coach Baldwin stories.  Stories that reflect how much respect and love we had for this great man and his standard of becoming an “American!”

Being that former Marine (still with that flat top look) George would continuously regal us with quotes like.  “That guy plays like an American – look at him block”  “That Quarterback throws the ball like an American!”  He would see a guy loafing or laying on the ground during a play and not hustling – “That guy is not an American – he’s staying on the ground!”

The one I caught him on was “Well gosh darn it – Any American can tackle!”  “Come on if you are an American you can tackle!”

So, one of my favorite experiences as a young coach with George was when I pulled the old “He’s an American” and reversed it on him.  It got a lot of chuckles from the entire coaching staff when it happened.

We were closing out our season in my first year as a coach.  Coach Baldwin had put me in charge of kickoff team for that year.

Now, if you were on the kickoff team in those days – you were coached to stay in your “lane” run down the field as fast as possible and tackle the guy with the coconut.  Not a difficult assignment – but to get it done meant you had to navigate the opponents who were trying to knock your head off along the way.

One of the keys to the kickoff team was having a good kicker who could put the ball deep and high so the coverage team could run down under it and get the return man on the ground.  The other is to have some pretty rugged dudes who would run down the field full speed!  The bigger and faster the better.

Like I said it was one of the last games of the year – perhaps even the last game.  We had lost a key guy on the kickoff coverage team and we needed a replacement.  So, as a staff we were kicking (hmmm…no pun intended I guess) around a few names – trying to find someone who could help the kickoff team.

Now we had a freshman offensive lineman named Jimmy Bennett.  Jim was a local kid from Allentown PA who had played at William Allen High School.  He was a backup at guard and he would go on to be a great player at Kutztown before his career was over.

Jim was big at 6-3 and 235 pounds and he could really run … OK I get it, he doesn’t seem big by today’s standards … but in 1977 he was a pretty big dude.  He was also really fast and he was very tough.  I loved him and where he was going!

In the meeting when we talked about the kickoff coverage team I brought up Jimmy’s name.  I think everyone pretty much thought it was a pretty good idea.  But George did not agree.

“But Donnie … I like Jimmy Bennett a lot.  But come on he is a freshman (George did not like to play freshman) and he is an offensive lineman.  I don’t know if he can tackle … he’s an offensive lineman.”

I knew I had him, with a grin I said …  “But Coach he’s an American.  Everyone knows if he’s an American he can tackle.”

The whole room cracked up and George just started laughing and I had him.  Jimmy was now a member of the kickoff team.

By the way he did a great job!

Sorry a long and winding road (wow, that might be a good name for a song??) to tell you a simple and probably silly story!