Thanks, Coach

I don’t discuss sports on this blog but I’ll have to make an exception today. I am an avid fan of college football. It’s the only sport that I still watch and keep track of. I am also a graduate of Florida State University and, as most who attended that school, a loyal fan of Florida State football.

Yesterday saw the end of the long, glorious coaching career of Bobby Bowden, who retired after 34 years as FSU’s head coach. If you’re not familiar with Coach’s achievements on the football field (and in life) just Google his name and read all you want. It would take pages and pages to document them all here.

Yesterday’s Gator Bowl in Jacksonville, FL was Coach Bowden’s last game. Despite being large underdogs to West Virginia, the Seminoles prevailed 33-21. I, along with many others, didn’t think the Noles had a chance in this game and believed it a shame Bowden would have to leave with a loss and his first losing season in 33 years. But it wound up being a pleasant and emotional sendoff.

I have to admit to getting a little choked up when Bowden planted the spear before the start of the game. I was there his first game in 1976 (I don’t remember who they played) and was also there the first game the Chief Osceola tradition began. I’ll never forget the delirious reaction of the crowd the very first time the Chief planted the spear. I was also there in Tully Gym the day after Bowden was hired and he grabbed a microphone and spoke to the crowd at halftime of the basketball game. Nobody really knew about him or what kind of man he was. I can remember someone in the crowd yelling “We want Mudra! (meaning Darrel Mudra, the previous coach who was fired)” I wonder if that guy still feels that way.

I know I’ve been the typical cynical fan the past few years with the mediocre performance of FSU football. But my reaction to Bowden planting the spear showed how much it’s been a part of my life. I noticed, as well, that my arm pits were sweating during the game, showing nervousness. That reaction doesn’t occur when watching a game where I’m indifferent to the outcome. It showed I still cared.

Years back I got to spend a good part of a day with Coach, while photographing him and others during a booster’s gathering. I marveled at how good he was with people and didn’t deny anyone the opportunity to spend time talking with him. He never seemed to get tired meeting and shaking hands with people- and I don’t believe it was an act. Through my experience (and other’s experience I’ve heard) when Coach shakes your hand and asks, “How are you?,” he keeps looking into your eyes until he gets an answer. He’s just not asking to be polite.

In the early 1990’s Bowden appeared as a guest (playing himself) on the comedy series, Evening Shade, starring Burt Reynolds as a high school football coach in rural Arkansas. It was amazing how relaxed and natural he played his part. Part of the story involved Coach coming to Evening Shade (the name of the town) to recruit an impressive wide receiver that Bowden had seen on film. The first name of the player was Merle. What Bowden comes to find out is that Merle is actually a girl. Reynolds’ football team was so inept and desperate for competent players that they resorted to using a talented girl and called her “Merle” to help hide that fact.

The day I worked with Coach wasn’t more than a few weeks after that episode was broadcast (I still have it on tape somewhere). I told him that I had heard that Merle the Girl had been signed by The University of Florida. Coach immediately replied, “Boy, I sure hope so!”

I always felt that a big part of Bowden’s football success was his ability to recruit. He’s such a natural salesmen, yet immediately puts people at ease. Get Bowden sitting and talking to Momma on the living room couch and it’s all over- that young man will be playing football at Florida State.

I know Coach was probably a father figure to those kids who didn’t have a father in their lives. I’m sure he was a “second” father to those that did. Heck, I didn’t even play football for the man and he was a “second” father figure to me.

God Bless you, Coach and happy trails.