Story 14: The greatest coach?
One couldn’t want for a better example of a life turned around because of football and, more important, a particular high school coach; one Coach John Machado. Still, it is a coach that wouldn’t let me play while in junior high school that keeps sneaking into my mind; and, I remember his name to this day: Coach Stockel; and a moment that grows more and more awesome each and every day.
Short for my age, four foot 10 in 8th grade, I’d be the last one chosen on the lunch time teams. Then, while all alone in the end zone on a pass play without a defender with 20 yards, our quarterback would choose to throw an incomplete pass in another direction. Even more devastating, Coach Stockel wouldn’t let me even practice with the regular team because I was “too small and might get hurt”.
Then, at Santa Clara High School, a particular coach was impressed with my extra effort and willingness to put myself in harm’s way. Although having grown almost 8 inches, I was still short compared to our team members, but I got to play enough my sophomore year, mostly defense, to earn a letter. I was a starter in my Junior year as a quarterback/blocking back, and in my senior year, I was selected to the All-League team as a pulling guard. But this is not the story. Coach Stockel keeps coming to mind.
Actually, what I learned in football played a big role in my teaching career, esp. as a “pulling guard” where I led the backs to the end zone. I remember the day when we got a new vice principle; one Curtis Frick (who’ll certainly back up this story). He came by the room to introduce himself. As I had already heard that he set some major records at LaVerne College as half-back, I smiled and said to him: “You know, I’ve heard big things about you. Just keep in mind I led many from the backfield like you to touchdowns; flattening any defenseman who got in my way. You need to keep in mind that I still consider myself a pulling guard, only now I’m leading my students to score. That said, you need to be aware that if you visit our classroom and get in the way, you’ll find yourself on your hind end as I’ll come through you, over or under you, but never around you.” He smiled, knowing exactly what I was saying. We became very good friends. Still, this is not the story, as Coach Stockel still comes to mind.
Then, there was my one and only experience coaching football. I was asked to coach the J.V. team at my alma mater, until I had to head back to college. Of course, I jumped at it. As I played defense in my sophomore year; backfield my junior and offensive lineman my senior year, I had played it all. Being a member, too, of a Championship team, I had high expectations and worked my players hard, to the point of putting Navy Seal training to shame.
Then came our first game. It was against a new high public high school whose team was made up of all sophomores; size wise, putting us at a great dis-advantage as my team, of course, were all freshmen. We ran a single wing where the Tailback was more of the signal caller and runner while the quarterback was more of a blocker. Our most talented player, of course, played Tailback.
Because of my history against adversity, I knew first hand how to instill confidence, and convinced these little Davids that they could handle the Goliaths. We didn’t do too bad. At the half, we trailed 13 to 7.
The second half was a rather different story as my guys were pretty beat up and we finished losing, 31 to 14. I’ll never forget walking off the field with my players, my head hung low. The parent of our Tailback met us mid-way to the locker room and exclaimed: “You sure got your butts kicked”. “Didn’t neither” was the son’s immediate response. Now that caught my attention as he had taken several head to head tackles, the possibilities of a concussion loomed.
Still, the father exclaimed: “C’mon, you got beat bad, look at the scoreboard, what does that tell you?” My Tailback’s response is engraved into stone to this day: “It says we got outscored. It doesn’t say we got beat. We never quit!” Yep, just another teaching/coaching lesson I learned early on from a student.
Still, this is not the story as it is coach Stockel that even now comes back to mind. You see, It was the last game of the regular season and we were lined up for the kick-off when one of the referees signaled a time-out and walked up to me; wanting to shake my hand. However, it wasn’t because of my all-league selection; rather for having proved him wrong; that he has never looked at a little guy the same way since. It was then I recognized Coach Stockel. It takes quite a person to do something like that. I couldn’t have been prouder. It still remains ten times the value of a Heisman to me.
Wishing you well,