37 YEARS?!?!?!

As another football season comes to a close I can’t help but notice that I’ve now coached football for a total of 37 years. That calendar sure has a way of swiftly marking the passage of time. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was the young guy on the coaching staff, always asking questions and rarely asked for my opinion. I started off as an assistant to an assistant. Now I’m the old guy who’s coached football longer than other coaches on the staff have been breathing air. 37 years makes for a long career! Along the way I’ve been able to work with countless athletes and coaches who I’ve come to think of as family. I’ve been ignored, listened to, taken for granted, praised, corrected, asked my opinion, and valued. Above all I feel that I’ve been blessed to have had the experiences I’ve had with the people that I had them with. So many memories! So many blessings!

As many young athletes, my dream was to one day play my sport professionally. My sport of choice was football and I was willing to work as hard as possible to make that dream become a reality. As the real world would have it, I was able to play at the high school, community college, and small university levels. It was a blessing I still cherish for me to play at each of these levels. In my senior season at the university I realized that if I wanted my association with football to continue, it would be on the other side of the whistle since I had reached the ceiling of my football playing potential. It was then that I started preparing myself to coach.

I was the starting left tackle at Western New Mexico University. My senior season saw us with a new head coach, Mike Drake. Coach Drake had recruited me to WNMU while he was the defensive coordinator. I really liked him and I was glad he had been named as head coach. Coach Drake brought in Tim Jaureguito as our offensive line coach. Coach J was a tireless worker who helped each of us on the offensive line to improve beyond our expectations. Up until that point I had only focused on my particular position, not worrying about what others had to do. My senior year would be different as I wanted to learn more about other positions so I would someday be able to coach. I became the bothersome player always asking Coach J questions about the whole offensive line. He patiently answered my questions and helped me learn more my senior season than I had ever learned before.

After I graduated from WNMU in 1985, Coach Drake offered me the opportunity to be Coach J’s assistant. I gratefully accepted and it became baptism by fire as I was immersed in the world of coaching college football. Very long days on and off the field gave me the opportunity to not only work hard, but also to learn much more about football than I ever did as a player. I also learned early that there were no days off during football season for a college coach. Under Coach J’s tutelage I learned so much about offensive line play that I felt prepared to progress in the field of coaching.

The following two seasons saw me coaching linemen at Huntington Park High School in the southeastern section of Los Angeles. There were only three of us on the varsity coaching staff. Head Coach Dwight Muskrath and defensive coordinator Al Parkhill both had patience with the young guy. Coach Muskrath had been asking for another coach for some time. The principal, Marjorie O’Hanlon, said she trusted me and had offered me the position while I was still at WNMU. Coach Muskrath didn’t get to interview me. I was simply put on his staff. I worked the way I had been taught to work at WNMU, and that is HARD! We had good success those two years and went deep into the playoffs each season. At the end of the second season another door of opportunity was opened.

East Los Angeles College was the community college where I had played football. Sometime while I was at WNMU the school had dropped the football program. After the 1987 season at HPHS I heard that ELAC was bringing their football program back and had named Al Padilla as head coach. Coach Padilla was an East LA coaching icon who had much success over the years at the high school and community college levels. He was my offensive line coach during my freshman season in 1978, Once I heard that football was returning to ELAC I swung by campus to congratulate him. We ended up talking for some time during which he offered me the position of offensive line coach despite me only having three years coaching experience. I was ecstatic and a bit overwhelmed. He gave me the holidays to think it over. After much prayer and thought, my wife and I agreed that this would be an opportunity not to pass up. I was named the offensive line coach even though there were two other coaches on staff who had much more experience in coaching the position. Coach Padilla proved to be the perfect mentor for me as he patiently helped me grow and improve in coaching the offensive line. Often he and I would be found in the football offices, long after all others had left, with him helping me learn with his father-like manner. I learned so much and the love I have for that kind man is eternal. After our second season my wife and I had got into a home in the Antelope Valley. Coach Padilla would help open another door of opportunity.

Brent Carder was a well-respected and accomplished community college football coach in California. He ran a respected program which had experienced much success under his tutelage. At an all-conference meeting Coach Padilla had mentioned to Coach Carder that one of his assistants was purchasing a house in the Antelope Valley. Coach Padilla thought that assistant coach was worth talking to. Appointments were made and I found myself in the office of Antelope Valley College’s head coach being interviewed for a possible position on his staff. Coach Carder’s longtime offensive line coach was moving over to coach defense, so Coach was willing to consider this outsider from East LA. After several nighttime interviews, despite having only five years coaching experience, Coach hired me as his offensive line coach. I would remain in that position for seventeen years until he retired and another door opened.

Replacing a legend is no easy task, but that is what awaited Perry Jehlicka as he was named the new head football coach at AVC. The college had not had to name a head coach for more than three and a half decades, so this was uncharted territory to all involved. Perry navigated the situation well and chose to keep the staff that had been in place during Coach Carder’s final year in coaching. For eight years I was kept on Perry’s staff until I felt it was time for me to step away from the sport that I had coached for thirty years. My retirement caught many by surprise, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Little did I know at the time, but a year later another door of opportunity would open.

I didn’t coach football during the 2015 season. I was retired and looking to move on to what awaited. After the season ended both my wife and son told me they thought I still had some coaching left in me. I hadn’t thought of it until then, but I thought since loved ones had that thought I should consider it. I reached out and some opportunities quickly presented themselves. The most intriguing came from James Vondra at Quartz Hill High School. After a long meeting with him, he offered me a position on his varsity staff. I was only looking to be an assistant to an assistant to make sure I still had the passion to coach, but James soon named me the varsity offensive line coach. QHHS had a great six-year run and I was lucky enough to be along for the ride. Five playoff opportunities (one season lost by all to COVID) with four playoff appearances. Three CIF championship games with two CIF titles. One Southern California Regional title and one State Championship game appearance. It was a great time to be part of a great coaching staff. Some of the most enjoyable years of my coaching career. I will forever be grateful to James Vondra for the opportunity he gave me. All good things must come to an end as James decided it was time to move on. With that move of his, another door of opportunity opened for me.

It was a difficult thing to see the breakup of the coaching staff at QHHS. We worked very well together and we had fun doing so. Some members of the staff went here and others went there. I had choices to make as opportunities were offered. Down deep the one place I wished to coach was at the place I had began coaching in the Antelope Valley…AVC. The opportunity seemed slim at times, but eventually things were worked out and I began coaching for the Marauders once again. It was July and not much time remained before the season began. Before I knew it the season was underway, then it was over with us finishing with a 5-5 record. The season was unique and at times undesirable. So much instability and uncertainty at every junction. I had hopes of having a “normal” season, but it was not to be. Nonetheless, I knew I was where I should be and I did my best. My hope is that I did some good. I sure tried!

A long career indeed! I started in 1985. I was blessed with great opportunities by trusting individuals. I did my best and more importantly I was able to be a family man along the way. Without my family I am nothing. With my family I am one blessed individual with a greater perspective than just that of a football coach. I have done my best to uphold the most-worth profession of coaching. I am not famous, yet I have no regrets. It’s been a great ride!

With all of the uncertainty surrounding my current position, I do not know what the future holds for me in coaching. I wish to continue and I know there is some good work to be a part of. Only time will tell what my course will be. In the meantime I remain grateful for the ride that has helped me develop my…VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE.

“The Best”

When I first entered the football coaching profession I chose to focus on the position which most intrigued me…the offensive line.  I did not have any desires of being a head coach.  No, I simply wanted to be the best offensive line coach around.  My burning desire was to become the face of coaching offensive play.  I did not reach the highest levels of playing football.  I would strive to reach the highest levels of coaching football, thus I would be amongst “the best” at coaching the offensive line position and I would be lauded for my knowledge of the position.  One day I would be seen working the sidelines of the National Football League, because that is where the “best” in football are found.  As my career unfolded, and I matured in life, my ideas of what “the best” means would greatly change. 

At first I learned from the best offensive line coach I had ever played for.  His name is Tim Jaureguito.  He had been my offensive line coach during my senior season at Western New Mexico University.  Coach J drove us players hard and it was clear that he knew his stuff.  His enthusiasm for the position was contagious, even though we found him hard to like because he had us work so hard.  I didn’t understand it as a player, but as a coach I learned that making players work hard to acheive their goals is just part of a good football coach’s job description.  My first season in coaching was spent as Coach J’s assistant.  Most of my waking hours were spent working alongside him during the 1985 season.  It was a wonderful opportunity of which I was highly appreciative.  Coach J had recommended me for the position and I will always be grateful for what he taught me of coaching football and education in general.  A couple of teammates and I were able to attend the graduation ceremony where Coach Tim Jaureguito was awarded his Masters Degree.  It was the least I could do to, in some small way, show him my appreciation.  As my coaching career continued I found that my coaching was well founded by what I learned in 1985 from Coach J and our head coach Mike Drake.  The next year would see Coach J returning to Nevada and I returning to California.  I would find my self coaching the linemen at Huntington Park High School.

It was with the Spartans that I began to reach out to resources available in order to improve my coaching of the offensive line.  There were only two other coaches working with the varsity team…I became the third.  Our head coach ran the offense, our receiver coach ran the defense, and I was assigned to work with the offensive and defensive lines.  Our head coach gave me full reign with the linemen.  In some ways I felt a bit overwhelmed and I began to reach out to those with greater knowledge of football in the trenches.  

After two seasons I got the opportunity of coaching the offensive line at East Los Angeles College, my alma mater.  I would then benefit from the tutelage of the man who had been my offensive line coach at ELAC, Al Padilla.  Coach Padilla had been named the head coach and put in charge of bringing football back to the school after it had been dropped for a few years due to financial considerations.  Even though there were other coaches on the staff with much more experience coaching offensive line, Coach put me in total charge of the Husky offensive line.  More than a few times he and I would be the only ones in the football office after practice while he shared with me knowledge of the offensive line that he had picked up during his long career coaching at the high school and college levels.  In a most patient and fatherly manner Coach Padilla helped me enhance my knowledge and think outside the box, much like Coach Jareguito had done back at. WNMU.  I grew exponentially over those two years after which Coach referred me to Antelope Valley College since we had recently moved to the Antelope Valley.  Coach Padilla mentioned my name to longtime Marauder head coach Brent Carder, who was very well-respected amongst the coaching ranks in the state of California.ter several one-on-one interviews with Coach Carder, I became a Marauder and would be in charge of the offensive line. Five years of coaching offensive line to my credit, with an opportunity to coach for a legend at a school with a longstanding history of good football.  I definitely felt I was on the path of becoming “the best”.

A few years at AVC would lead to a university job, which would eventually lead to my face being seen on televisions across the nation as I coached at the highest levels…at least that is how I envisioned things unfolding on my pathway to becoming “the best” offensive line coach around.  This was serious business and I was willing to put the work in necessary in order to attain my goals. 

At AVC I was part of a staff loaded with very knowledge coaches who possessed many years of experience.  Three members of that staff were later elected to the State Hall of Fame.  To say that my learning curve slanted upward would be a grand understatement.  I learned from each of them with Coach Carder heading the way.  It was at AVC that I also learned that there are football coaching clinics held where coaches from various levels of the sport attend and share their knowledge.  Position-specific topics are presented by famous coaches from across the land.  I began attending clinics and asking questions…many questions.  At one of these clinics I met one of my offensive line coaching idols Roger Freinch.  

Roger was one of the most respected offensive line coaches in the game…at any level.  He was the offensive line coach and offensive coordinator at Brigham Young University when the Cougars won the national championship.  He spent 21 years at BYU and was the epitome of what an offensive line coach was all about…at least he was in my eyes.  Coach French’s offensive line coaching resume was beyond impressive.  Amongst all of the team accomplishments and NCAA records his linemen helped produce, at one point he had more former BYU offensive linemen in the NFL than any other college.in the country.  The first time I met him was at a clinic where he was to speak.  Due to powers beyond his control he had arrived too late for his first presentation on Friday evening.  A few of us coaches happened to be outside the lecture hall, where someone else was filling in for Coach French, and we ended up with a small group session presented by none other than the man who I had attended the clinic hoping to learn from.  As he explained the downfalls of his offense in the team’s preceding bowl game I felt as if a dream had come true…I was learning from one of “the best”!  

A couple of years later Coach French was recruiting one of my offensive linemen at AVC.  It was my first opportunity in speaking with him one-on-one.  He attended our practices and even called me at home regarding the young man he wished to coach.  Slowly I got comfortable with this coach who was an idol of mine.  After one of our spring practices we were in Coach Carder’s office going over film of the offensive lineman Coach French was recruiting.  I had been at AVC for two years.  Was it time to move on from AVC on my path to becoming “the best”?   Confidently I asked Coach French what I needed to do reach the coaching level where he was at. He told me to start taking jobs I’m not interested in spendin much time at.  A couple of years at a small school would lead to meeting people who could help in getting a job at a larger school, which could lead to a job at a larger school, which could eventually lead to a job at the highest levels.  Of course all of this had to be accompanied by the most dedicated of work ethics.  His answer floored me and totally changed my definition of becoming “the best”.    

I clearly recall thinking to myself that I was willing to put the work in, but moving my family around every few years was not something I was willing to do.   It was then and there that I decided that I wanted to be the best offensive line coach possible at Antelope Valley College, where I would coach for twenty-five years, a place where universities would know that they could recruit offensive linemen who had been coached right.  I vowed to do everything I could to improve and stay on top of the game.  My definition of becoming “the best” no longer was reliant on outside factors.  I determined to not judge my offensive line coaching abilities by anyone other than myself.  I remember hearing of great athletes approaching therir game with similar mindsets. I became determined to do the same.  I would now strive to become “the best” offensive line coach that I could become…no matter where I coached.

Roger French was successful in recruiting my offensive lineman. Thanks to that I was invited to work several years at BYU summer football camps where I was able to work with Coach French and learn so much from him one-on-one.  I was able to eat meals with him, workout with him, spend time in his office going over recruiting film with him, watch game film with him, and sometimes I was just able to hang out with him talking about topics not related to football.  You see, Coach French’s family lived in Minnesota, thus he had no family obligations in Utah to attend.  I was honored that five days a year he chose to spend time with me.  My knowledge of offensive line play grew quickly as I was able to learn from one of “the best”and I grew quite comfortable in his presence.  He helped me learn so much more about offensive line than I could have ever learned at attending numerous football clinics.   Of course time moves on and I could not keep in touch with Coach French.  I was saddened to learn that he passed from mortality earlier this year.   I will forever be grateful for what he taught me and the time he gave me a few valuable days each year.  

Thanks in part to this short-lived association with Roger French I became comfortable in speaking with anyone regarding the intricacies of offensive line play.  Over the years I have learned face-to-face from coaches who wear Super Bowl rings,  NCAA Championship rings, and high school championship rings.  They have answered my questions, along with the questions of many, and have helped me grow in the position I coach.  

Today I like to think that I am a better offensive line coach than I have ever been in my career.   The years have taught me that only a few can wear the title of “the best”…and I’m okay with that.  What I’ve also learned is that more importantly than being “the best”, I want to be “my best”.  Unlike my younger self, I do not strive to be the best in the country…nor the state…nor the county…nor the Antelope Valley…not even the best in the city.  My goal is to be the best that I can be…”my best”.  Isn’t that all any of us can hope for?   

My life has sure been more fulfilling ever since I adapted that way of thinking into all aspects of my life…not just football and my …VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE…

                    

Coming to “The Hill”

With no regrets, I stepped away from coaching after a very rewarding thirty-year career as an assistant football coach.  I ended my career after spending the final twenty-five years at a local community college which had become my second home.  Our children had grown up with so many memories around the perks of having a father with keys to some of the best athletic facilities around.  Swimming in the college’s pool, working out in the weight room, and running on the track were just some of the memories I can now recall.  It turned out to be quite an adjustment as I no longer would be what my children knew me as…a football coach.  A season away from the game left me with the question of whether or not I could get involved in the sport I still loved.

My first inclination was to possibly go back to my second home.  After inquiries into that possibility it was clear the program had moved on and there was no need for my services…even as a volunteer.  No hard feelings, although my ego and self-esteem were bruised a bit, as I understood that time waits for no one.  I took it as a sign that my time had passed in the sport I had devoted so much of my life to in five decades.  Some weeks later, the thought of possibly coaching once again would not leave me. I reached out to two local high coaches with whom I had worked in different capacities over the years.  My question to them was if they knew of any local football program that could possibly use the services of an old offensive line coach who was no longer needed at his old home in football.  Both offered me opportunities to join their respective coaching staffs. I thanked both gentlemen for giving me food for thought.  Not long later I was contacted about coaching at another local high school.  Here I wasn’t sure I wanted to get back into the grind that is coaching football, and I had three offers to consider.  I pondered much for a couple of weeks.  Both my dear wife and son had suggested that I should coach once again.  I reached out to a colleague who knew first-hand of my coaching methods.  Could my methods work in the high school game?  His response hit me deeply as he stated that after experiencing the atmosphere and excitement of “Friday Night Lights” I would ask myself why I had spent so much time at the community college level. 

After much thought I decided to meet with James Vondra, the head coach at Quartz Hill High School.  I respect James tremendously.  We had worked together at the community college for two years.  He coached on the offensive side of the ball while I was in the midst of my five year stint as the defensive line coach.  I had found him to be a strong family man who happened to be a fine football coach.  The thought even crossed my mind back then that if I ever coached high school football, I hoped it would be for a man like James Vondra.  A more honorable being cannot be found and he grqciously set aside a time we could meet and talk about possibilities.  We met at Quartz Hill High School.  James had been the head coach there for threes years.  We spoke for quite some time.  It was a very comfortable meeting.  I made it clear that I was not ready to make a firm commitment as I wanted to make sure I could still put in the work I knew was necessary in order to do right by the athletes and the program.  We exchanged “bro-hugs” and I told him I would speak with my sweetheart and let him know in a couple of days what my decision was.  I headed home with much to ponder.  

Checking my phone before departure I noticed that I had a voicemail.  It was from Mike Drennan, a fixture on the high school coaching scene the whole time I had lived in the Antelope Valley.  He had been the defensive coordinator, a position he still held,  for Quartz Hill when they had won their first CIF Championship in 2008.  Our paths had crossed countless times over the years, but our “conversations” consisted of mere greetings and best wishes to each other.  I was more than surprised of the voicemail.  I pulled over to the side of the road (safety first!) and returned Mike’s call.  The words we shared I will cherish forever as I had no idea he had even paid any attention to the fact that I had coached at the community college for so long.  He shared with me that he did not always do these types of things, but he wanted to reach out and say that he thought it would be a good thing if I joined the coaching staff at Quartz Hill High School.   Needless to say my attention had been caught.  

A friend who knows much about coaching football had told me that Quartz Hill would be a difficult place to win since there were other high schools in our area who would always have better athletes.   I knew this, but I had told myself many years ago that if I ever coached high school football I hoped it would be at Quartz Hill High School.  Their teams wee always disciplined and their athletes played hard.  With my sweetheart on board, a few days later I informed James that I would be honored to join his coaching staff.  An offensive line coach was in place who was considered my many to be on top of the list of offensive line coaches who had graced the sidelines of the Antelope Valley.  We had worked on different sides of the ball at the community college for a few years and I highly respected him.  I had told James that I would be happy to be this fine coach’s assistant.  It would give me a chance to see if I really wanted to coach again, providing me with little to no pressure.   Before I knew if things would change rapidly.

Wanting to get my proverbial toe in the water to check the conditions of the pool, before I knew it I was pushed off the side  and I found myself having to swim once again.  All the time I had been in contact with this iconic offensive line coach, as I had no intention of damaging what I considered to be a repectful relationship developed over many years.  The last thing I wanted was to infringe on what he was doing.  Just days before summer practices were to commence James called and asked if I was ready to take over the varsity offensive line.  I expressed surprise, but was assured this was the direction he wanted to go.  I felt complimented by his trust in me and my coaching abilities.  I answered in the affirmative.  When our conversation ended, I immediately phoned the other offensive line coach to make sure he was okay with this situation.  He assured me that he was and we proceeded forward.      

With two offensive line coaches working together, each one with several decades of experience, not all of our ways of doing things meshed together smoothly.  Even so, we were both professionals and accepted who was in charge of all things regarding the varsity offensvive line.  Our working relationship became a bit strained as not all my ways of doing things were respected nor deemed necessary.  Sparing the details, I became “the man” and ended up flying solo…with my trusty assistant Dylan Bennewitz who I had recruited some years back to play at the community college.  What we helped accomplished together became special.  No way did we expect to become part of the school’s history.

In two seasons, the best two-year run in the school’s history, we went to two CIF Championship games…only the third and fourth time this had taken place in QHHS history.  We capped this season off in a tie for the league championship, then we won the CIF Championship and advanced to the State Regional Championhip game.  Not too shabby of a two-year run resulting in an overall record of 23-6.  Of course all of this was not accomplished solely due to the offensive line.  Football is the ultimate of team sports and it took the whole team’s efforts in attaining such accomplishments.  I will say that our offensive line is deserving of the highest praise that can be given any offensive line:  they did their job.

The guys I worked with fit in nicely with the long list of offensive linemen I have had the privilege of working with over the years.  All of them were willing to work possibly harder than they had ever done before.  They bought in to what I was selling…hard work provides a better opportunity for success.  In the end their efforts helped lead to championships only dreamed of previously.  Forever they will know that they are truly champions!  They will have the rings to prove it.  Little do they know that in my eyes they were champions every day I got to work with them.  The games and seasons just proved my thoughts to the football world.  It has been my honor and pleasure to work with them in what turned out to be our year-round endeavors.      

Grateful I am to continue on in this most honorable and worthy profession of coaching football.  Hearfelt thanks go out to Coach James Vondera for his friendship and the opportunities he has given me.  I appreciate the trust he has in me and I work my hardest to be worthy of that trust.  I have done so for each of the head coaches it has been my honor to work for.  Gratitude I also have for that surprising phone call from one Mike Drennan.  As he told me then, it’s been a good thing for me in joining the football coaching staff at Quartz Hill High School.  Our staff ranks second to none and includes men I’ve seen grow up in the sport we all love.       

For the time being I am once again a football coach and I guess I’ll always be one with an interesting perspective on life that I like to refer to as my…VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE.          

A Recruit To Remember…

With the recent advent of senseless violence across our great nation, memories from long ago surfaced which I had not thought about for decades.  While living in a third world country for two years, which had one of the worst human rights violations record in the world,  I had become accustomed to violence which made no sense to my American-raised mind.  Upon my return to the United States I returned to what I considered normalcy and a respect for human life.  What can I say?  Looking back now leaves me with the impression that I was once incredibly naive.  The year was 1986 when my ideas of life took a hit.

I was located in the southwestern New Mexico town of Silver City.  Having graduated from this fine university the previous May, after playing football two seasons for the Mustangs, I was afforded the opportunity of becoming part of the footbal coaching staff.  During the 1985 season I was the Assistant Offensive Line Coach, working with Offensive Line Coach Tim Jareguito, for Head Coach Mike Drake.  While the season did not turn out the way any of us wanted, it provided me a firm basis of what would turn out to be a thirty-plus year coaching career.  We worked harder than I had ever imagined football coaches worked.  Sleep became a very limited luxury, while preparation became the top priority.  It was a good time which showed me that in order to be a good football coach no amount of work could be considered too much.

In the world of college football, once the season ends the thoughts of the coaching staff turn to improvement during the off-season in preparation fo the next season.  And so it was at WNMU.  After careful analysis of which players we had returning, determinations were made of which areas needed improvement by way of new talent.  Upon our return to campus  after Christmas Break we began in earnest our recruiting efforts across selected areas of the southwestern US, including Southern California, and certain areas of Michigan…due to the fact that Mike Drake was from Michigan and had a lot of contacts there.  Due to the classification of my position on the staff, I was not cleared to travel in our recruiting efforts.  Thus, my recruiting was done through the mail and over phone lines.  In early January of 1986 Coach Drake handed me film and a letter from a good-sized young man in suburban Detroit, Michigan.  After going over the very impressive film I was sold on this guy who could play linebacker as well as any high school player we were presently recruiting.  I showed the film to Mike and he readily agreed and told me to call the young man.  We both agreed that it might be a long-shot that Bob O’Day would not garner interest from larger universities, but it was at least worth a phone call.   As it turned out it didn’t matter.

While speaking with Bob, he clearly informed me that he wanted to attend Western New Mexico University.  His parents were relocating to Silver City and there was nowhere else he would rather play football.  There was no doubt in our minds that this guy could play linebacker at shools much larger than ours.  I even told Bobby this, but his mind was made up.  His question was if there was any possibility of him getting a scholarship to WNMU.  What a question!  The next day I filled Coach Drake in on the conversation I had with Bob O’Day.  Immediately that linebacker became our top recruit.  It was my first experience in recruiting players and here I was getting the ball rolling to signing one of the best high school football recruits that had ever come to Silver City…and the kid practically did all the work of selling the benefits of becoming a Mustang.

I usually called Bob on Wednesday evenings.  I looked forward to our conversations and he seemed to enjoy our visits via telephone almost as much as I did.  Each time I called, Bobby was courteous, friendly, respectful, and he had a good sense of humor…all the while acting as if he had nothing better to do at that particular moment that talk with this first year football coach in New Mexico.   He was a captain of the fooball team and became an all-star linebacker his senior season.  He was one of the leaders of the wrestling team and an accomplished wrestler who was expected to do well in the 1986 season.  Oh how I wish Bob had chosen not to wrestle that season.

One Wednesdahy I didn’t make the phone call to Bob O’Day.  I don’t remember why.  Sometimes life happens.  This time I really wish it didn’t.  By Friday I knew I had to call Bob, so I returned to the office that night so I could make the call.  I looked forward to a conversation with Bob.  I always did.  An unfamiliar, downcast male voice answered the phone.  I cheerfully asked if Bob was home.  “This is Bob”, came the sullen reply.  “The one who plays football?”  I replied quizzically.  His response floored me.  “No, that’s my son.  He was killed today.”  How do you respond to those words?  To this day I do not remember the exact words I used, but I do remember that I got off the phone as politely and quickly as possible.  The parents of Bob O’Day were dealing with the unimaginable and I had nothing to offer…nor did I want to interfere and possibly make things worse with their grief.  I put the receiver back on the cradle of the telephone, then I sat and stared…

I was numb.  I don’t know how long I sat and stared…dealing with a mixture or emotions and thoughts.  The fact was that a young man, whom I had gotten to know a bit, was no longer in mortality due the actions of another.  As timed passed and the night grew longer, I could deal with this on my own no longer.  I reached out to another coach on the staff.  Despite the lateness of the hour he calmly listened to my shared feelings and thoughts.  I don’t remember what he said, but I felt somewhat better.  By the next day Mike Drake came over to my place of residence to see if I was okay.  I appreciated the visit, but knew the ones who needed true comforting were located in suburban Detroit.

The next week I was contacted by a reporter from a Detroit newspaper who was writing an article on the tragedy.  I think it was he who filled me in on some of the details leading to the death of Bob O’Day.  Mitch Albom, later a famous author , was the reporter who told me that Bob’s life was taken senselessly by another youth two years his junior.  There had been a scuffle between one of Bob’s wrestling teammates and another youth on Thursday..  The non-wrestler swore vengeance and returned the next day with some of his friends.   Another scuffle ensued in the locker room area between the intruders and several wrestlers.  Bob arrived and made an attempt to stop the fracas, intervening on behalf of his teammates.  One of the intruders produced a six-inch pocket knife and stabbed Bob O’Day once in the chest…a wound which led to Bob’s exit from mortality.  “Senseless” and “madness” were words used by Mr. Albom in describing the tragedy which led to the closure of the high school for two days and a funeral being held on campus with a reported attendance of approximately 800 mourners.  Bob O’Day was a good guy loved and respected by many people in suburban Detroit…and one first-year football coach in New Mexico.

To my finite mind I had questions and issues which had no answers nor solutions.  What if I had called Bob on Wednesday?  Maybe he would have been thinking more on the future instead of the violence around him.  What could I have done to prevent this tragedy?  I knew there was nothing I could have done, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to do something.  Things like this happened in the third world country I had lived in for two years…but it was not supposed to happen in the good ol’ USA!  Of course I knew better, but this was the first time senseless violence led to a loss of an individual I felt I knew a little bit…and it hit me hard.  I could only imagine what his parents, family, friends, and the community as a whole went through.

For a long time I kept the senior picture Bob had sent us at WNMU.  That picture served as an eye-opener to me of what senseless violence can do…the lives it can alter…the lives it can end….the irreparable damage it can cause which cannot be seen.  Life moves on and I have lone since lost track of Bob’ s photo.  No matter.  As I reflect back on what took place in 1986, in my dealings with Bob O’Day, I realize that his pictue is clearly etched my mind…and I am guessing it always will be.  I am positive there are many people who feel stronger feelings, and have stronger memories, when it comes to Bob.  I am guessing there remains a void in many lives due to his absence.  In the grand scheme of things I was a relative speck of dust in Bob’s earthly life.  Yet, I will remember him forever and will loathe with every ounce of my being the senseless violence which kept Bob from graduating from high school, attending college, playing college football, developing relationships, spending time with  loved ones, paying bills, finding a career, becoming a husband, becoming a father, growing old, and all of the other things there is to experience on this journey whe call “life”.

As people much wiser than I have stated, violence breeds violence…it solves nothing.  Reacting violently will produce violent reactions.  Peace is the answer.  Getting along with one another.  Respecting one another enough to talk things out.  Realizing that we are all in the same boat…that being mortality, worthy of respect and understanding.  Bad things will happen on their own, we do not need to show them the way.  When bad things happen, and they inenevitably will, we need to lean on each other and strengthen one another, instead of pushing against each other.

I was just a relative puppy when I entered the football coaching profession.  But once I began coaching, experiences came at me rapidly and I did the best I could to handle them.  While far from perfect in what I did, I learned immeasurably from each experience as they cumulatively helped me attain my…VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE…

“B-E-L-L! BELL!”

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to play football.  Not the pick-up games played in parks, on elementary school grounds, or on the streets which can be found around this great country of ours.  No, I dreamed of putting on the pads, helmet, and other protective gear.  Then taking the football field and playing the game the way it was meant to be played…with reckless abandon and much physicality.  Due to my physical stature, I was too large to take part in youth leagues.  Even if I was smaller our family could not have afforded the financial burden that playing youth football would have incurred.  I would have to wait until high school where my hopes and dreams could become reality…and let me tell you, it was worth the wait!

At the time of my public schooling, schools in the Los Angeles area were divided into three categories.  Elementary Schools housed the students from kindergarten through sixth grades.  Junior High Schools were populated with the students in seventh through ninth grades.  High Schools handled the students in tenth through twelfth grades.  What this meant to me was that I was fifteen years old, and entering the tenth grade, when I finally had the opportunity of getting the true football experience.

In the 1970s, in the southeastern section of Los Angeles county, Bell High School was a force to be taken seriously when it came to high school football.  It was an interesting time in Los Angeles as the powers that be had instituted a program of “bussing”.  This program had students from around the Los Angeles area being sent to various high schools with the goal of promoting racial diversity amongst the student population.  Bell High School was one of those schools.  The resultant student body was very racially diverse.  This racial diversity greatly helped the football program as fine athletes from surrounding areas could be found wearing the purple and white of the day at Bell High School.  I think the racial diversity made each of us students better individuals.

Some publications ranked the Eagles amongst the elite teams in the Los Angeles City Section, while others mentioned Bell in discussing some of the top teams in the State of California.   The Eagles had it all…size, speed, athleticism, physicality, and good coaching.  And there was an abundance of each.  So much so that one publication claimed that most of the back-ups on the Bell High School sideline would be starters at any other school in the area.  All of this added up to the Eagles being termed the “Team Of The Decade” by the same publication.

While walking home from school one day I had peered through the fecnce and saw a small part of the Eagles’ practice.  I remember being impressed by how big the players were.  I had spent two years of Junior High School in the area and was set to attend Bell High School, totally unaware of the football power they represented at the time.  All I knew was that I would finally get to play me some “real football”.  I would find out how good the football was at Bell…and I would find it out painfully soon.

A very large member of the Eagles, who attended the same Church as I did,  suggested to me that I should spend the summer preparing for the upcoming season with the team.  It was sound advice.  Before the first day of school I had a crash-course education of what preparing to play football, for Bell High School in 1975, was all about.  Intense training sessions of weight training, conditioning, agility, and football technique filled my summer.  It was a new experience for me and my body let me know it.  My mind was focused on the big prize…putting on the pads.  Those long-awaited pads would bring a whole new meaning to me of what “football” was all about.

The first day I actually put on all of the football gear was enlightening.  I wish I could say I did it correctly the first time, but that would be inaccurate.  Thanks to the guidance of a teammate I made it to the practice field fully protected.  The football gear of 1975 was much more bulky and heavier than that of today’s modern equipment.  We had a few practices wearing just the helmet with shorts and shirts.  Our necks would be so sore those first days due to the heaviness of the helmet.  There was webbing inside the helmet, thus the name “suspension” helmet.  Unlike the modern helmet, contact could be greatly felt inside the football helmet of the 1970s resulting in headaches and temporary blurred vision .  We called this phenomena “getting your bell rung”, while today it is referred to as getting a “concussion”.

The first thing to catch my attention was the physical size of our team.  The one who had suggested I train over the summer was not alone in being very large.  With pads on these guys looked enormous.  Those who were not enormous, were flat out FAST.  We were loaded at every position.  It would prove to be an interesting season for my education in football, but it was fun…in a different kind of way.

Football was king at Bell High School in the 1970s.   I remember pep rallies held in the school’s theater.  I remember lots of cheerleaders, band members, flag twirlers, and LOTS of school spirit.  Fridays in the fall were all about football.  Those of the school’s diverse population not in attendance at home games were in the minority.  Large numbers of the community came out to support the football team as well, resulting in home games with packed stands on both sides of the game filed.  Even when the team travelled, some fans would follow, along with all of the cheerleaders, band members, and flag twirlers.  It was an exciting time to be an Eagle!  The team did not disappoint.

1975 saw the team win the league championship without much struggle.  The playoffs were similar and the Eagles found themselves in the City Championship game which was played at East Los Angeles College in front of a packed house of about 25,000 spectators.  Our opponent was Wilson High School, another highly regarded team in the City Section and the State of California.  We came up a bit short and ended up LA City Runner-Up.

That season I spent on the junior varsity squad.  What that meant was that we played our games on Mondays and spent the rest of the week as tackling dummies and cannon fodder for the varsity.   As I remember it our drills were mostly resultant in us junior varsity players feeling the wrath of a varsity squad which was large in stature and mean in nature.   There is no doubt that my first season in “real football” was one of survival.  The punishment we endured was not acceptable to all of my fellow junior varsity teammates, as several found other non-threatening and less violent ways to spend their time.  The better players from the junior varsity ranks got to suit up for varsity games and enjoy the view from the sidelines on Fridays…I was not one of them.  No, my reward was to play part of a game on Mondays, then survive my way through practice on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.  To those of us who survived the season, our head coach rewarded us with the privilege of suiting up for each of the playoff games, thus providing us all with a nice view of the action on the game field.  We were on the top end of a playoff semi-final game blowout, so even I was afforded some game time, thus earning a varsity letter because I had played in a playoff game.
By my junior and senior seasons I had worked hard enough to improve to the point where I was a starter on the defensive line my junior season and on both lines my senior season.  I beat out a senior mass of a man during the 1976 season at defensive end.  He was less than pleased with our head coach’s decision and was willing to take it out on me.  The dude was mean enough, so I took his threat of beating me up seriously.  Fighting at practice would have resulted in dismissal from the team, so that was not an option to the guy.  I avoided this teammate of mine at all costs until cooler heads prevailed and he ended up quitting the team.

Playing football at Bell during this era was a bit like what the movie “Friday Night Lights” portrayed…on a smaller scale.  We players were known around campus by many we didn’t even associate with.  On game days we could do no wrong around campus.  Our field house, which housed our lockers, was adjacent to the home bleachers.  On game nights the lights and sounds of the anticipatory crowds filled our field house and provided all of us players adrenaline rushes like no others.  Us few Hispanics on the team were left alone by the Hispanic gangs on campus, never being harassed to join them.  I always thought it was a pride thing as in a way we represented them all on a larger stage each Friday night during football season.  Then again, who knows, they just might not have wanted to deal with our team and the team mentality that had developed.  Either way I always felt safe from gangs while on campus.

We made it to the LA City Championship game for the second consecutive season.  We played at the same place, against the same opponent, under similar circumstances, with the same result.  (Wilson High School had a great squad led by a record-setting quarterback and an offensive genius head coach who was ahead of his time in the passing game and was the father of the quarterback.  During my time at Bell that duo went 39-0 and collected three LA City Championshiops.  Our paths would cross once again years later when I had joined the coaching ranks…but that is a whole other story.)

My senior season we were upset in the first round of the playoffs and my time at Bell High School ended with my graduation in June of 1978.   It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  Bell was a great place to get my introduction to “real football”…albeit a painful introduction it was at times.  (The drill which still makes no sense to me is when our head coach lined up the defensive front, then placed two of us junior varsity guys opposite them staring into the eyes of the beasts.  When a ball was thrown to one of us we became ball carrier and lone blocker.  The defensive front seven became ravaging beasts whose objective was to gang-tackle us and pummel us into the ground.  At times the lone blocker was spared by simply being run over by those in hot pursuit of the ball carrier.)  Still, I am grateful for the experiences I had as an Eagle.

My first experiences in viewing a game from the sidelines were rather blurry because I didn’t wear glasses under my helmet until my senior season of high school.  Thankfully my view improved.  Yet, the facts remain that it was in high school, at a football powerhouse, that I first started developing my…VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE…

“Coach J”

A very long time ago, in a galaxy so far away,  I would meet a man who would help shape the direction of my career as an assistant football coach.  The year was 1984.  The place was Western New Mexico University in Silver City, NM.  The man was Coach Tim Jaureguito.

I had come to the heights of Silver City due to the recruiting efforts of Mike Drake, the team’s defensvie coordinator.  Coach Drake was an excellent recruiter and he had lured several of us from the Southern California community college ranks to continue our education and football at this small university in southwestern New Mexico.  To convince young men from SoCal to leave that life behind and enter the area of small-town Americana was no easy task, but Coach did it and many of us love him for it.  Adjustment to Silver City took some time, some more than others, but it did take place.  Football, on the other hand, was a bit different.

My first season with the Mustangs of WNMU was 1983.  Coach Drake was just as he advertised.  Seemingly everyone liked him.  Our head coach, on the other hand, was a different kind of guy who did not make it much past the end of the 1983 season due to violations committed in the areas of recruiting.  I honestly don’t think there were many of us who would miss him.

Our offensive line coach was most assuredly a different kind of guy…some of us on the offensive line at times feared for the man’s sanity and well-being.  He was a younger guy, not much older than me, who seemed like he wasn’t ready for his playing career to end.  Right before one of our road games he lined us up single file and told us to give him our best shot.  As each player collided with him, he got more and more fired up.  I half-heartedly hit him, but my best friend on the line buckled up his chinstrap and blasted our questionably motivating coach with a crushing blow.  To his credit, the coach didn’t go down.  We on the offensive line could not relate with him nor how we were coached.

The 1984 season would be different.  Gone was the old head coach.  The well-liked Coach Drake was now the man with the plan.  The first part of his plan was to run us into the ground during that Spring in preparation for the upcoming season.  We may have wondered what had possessed him at the time, but our belief in him never wavered.  As a result, I went home that Summer in the best shape of my life.  When we returned for fall camp, we had a new offensive line coach…Tim Jaureguito.

What we were told of him was that he had been a successful high school head coach in Nevada and had come to WNMU to get experience at the university level.  Not overly large in stature, Coach Jaureguito informed us that we could call him “Coach J”.  At the beginning we thought this was because he would be a cool guy.  Later our minds were changed to thinking that he allowed us to call him Coach J because he worked us so hard that we would never be able to pronounce his last name correctly through our labored breathing.  From the start it was clear that he knew his stuff.  I learned more about offensive line play our first month together than I had learned the entire season the year before.

Many of the drills we did seemed a bit unorthodox to some of us.  Once, when we were working pass protection against the defensive line as a whole we were dropping our heads a bit thus enabling the defensive linemen to beat us.  When his words of instruction didn’t get across to us, he stopped the drill, instructed us offensive linemen to remove our helmets, then told us to continue the drill…while the defensive linemen still had their helmets on.  At dinner, in the cafeteria that night, us offensive linemen stood out a bit due to the bruises, cuts, scrapes, and traces of blood on our faces.  I was just glad my nose was still intact…bloodied, but not broken.  Needless to say, we learned the importance of not dropping our heads while blocking…and we didn’t have to do any more drills with the defensive linemen without our helmets on.  On another occasion I remember that we were coming out of our stances too high.  There were no chutes to work under, as most football teams use, so Coach took us to the next best place…under the solid steel girders supporting our home bleachers along the game field.  At first we trepidely came out of our stances carefully staying low enough to avoid hitting the solid steel girder.  This would be of no use we were told, so we continued until we moved at a much quicker pace.  This became a regular practice routine for us which helped us to come out of our stances at a much more effective level.  Let me tell you that solid steel girder did not give an inch when hit by an offensive lineman with a helmet on.  I came in contact with the solid steel girder more than once, and I still get woozy just thinking about it.  Things really got interesting when we worked against each other under that solid steel girder…but the madness worked!

We worked harder than any of us had worked before…all because that is what Coach J demanded of us.  He did not want us in a situation where we had been out-worked.  We grudgingly bought into what he was selling and it paid off.  Due to the efforts of the whole team we finished the 1984 season tied for the conference championship, despite being on probation because of the previous coach’s actions.  Our official record was 0-0 due to the probation, but we won on the field.  Thanks to Coach Tim Jaureguito, we on the offensive line did our part.

I remember the first time Coach J’s girlfriend, who later became his wife, came to visit him and see a game.  We on the offensive line were shocked that a lady so pretty and seemingly nice could like our Coach J.  We considered him “mean”.  It wasn’t until I worked with him the following season as a colleague that I understood that him being “mean” in our eyes served a purpose.  What we perceived as “mean” was in reality “demanding”…a key ingredient for success.

The 1985 season at WNMU would see me, the lone senior offensive lineman in 1984, as Coach J’s assistant offensive line coach.  I wasn’t the best player on that offensive line, so I considered it a huge honor to be hired.  That 1985 season was the most intensive learning time of my football coaching career.  Coach Drake demanded hard work from his staff and we were required to put the time in….much time.  If I was not working with football during part of the 24 hours of a day I was either asleep or in class.  Oftentimes we could be found spending part of our lunch break in our darkened office getting a much needed power nap.  I had never imagined coaching football demanded so much time.  Coach Drake and Coach Jaureguito raised me right in the profession of coaching football.  We worked and we worked HARD!

It was from Coach J that I learned to be patiently demanding of myself and the players I work with.  I learned that being out-worked was not a good excuse for failure…so work as hard as possible.  Always be prepared…no exceptions.  Think outside the box…there is always an answer and sometimes it can only be found by stepping outside the box.  These things served me well over my thirty years of coaching football.

I really grew to respect the man we called “Coach J”.  We spent nights before road games working together in preparation for the following day’s game.  At a small tavern, in a small rural town, I told a guy in Spanish that I would break his face if he tried anything to harm Coach J.  We quickly removed ourselves and I did not have to prove that I meant what I had said.  A few years later my wife and I attended Coach’s wedding to that nice lady, “Lisa”, who had visited him in Silver City.  They were gracious enough to have us stay at their home in the picturesque setting of Lake Tahoe.  It remains a cherished memory of both my wife and I.

Recently I saw that Coach J found Facebook.  I have seen pictures of him, his wife, and their family.  I see that he is the Principal at a high school in Texas.  If he still has that fire I saw in him so many years ago, that school is in good hands and has little to no discipline issues from either the students or the staff.

As a football player I saw the game of football from a player’s eyes.  It was Coach Tim Jaureguito who helped open my eyes to how a coach needs to see the game of football.  For that I will always be grateful.  Thanks go out to him and Coach Drake for helping me get started in developing my…VIEW FROM THE SIDELINE…