Coach John McKissick: Legacy for All

Dear Coach,

The hot and humid August morning found me pulling the black cap over the green football helmet that designated me as a third-string player. You blew the whistle that started the grind of practice to begin my first high school football season.

It was 1974, and the towns Alston and Summerville High School in South Carolina had merged two years earlier under desegregation. Community tensions like most of the southern regions were still high. You made it clear that there was no black or white but only Green and Gold on this football team. You taught us to eat, work, play, shower, and experience life together.

You made the rules and stuck to it no matter the pressure from the craziness of the world around us at the time. Anyone who broke your rules was off the team, no warnings, no appeal, out. You unified a town in a struggle to one thing. Stand together.

You are the winningest High School coach in the United States, but you never changed who you were. An honest, hard-working, and sincere man who lived what you believed your entire life. To you, everyone was someone, and you knew our names. I never started a game for you but played backup.

Do you remember the day in a scrimmage the first-team offense (Green Hats) practiced against the scrub team (Black Hats)? You declared that if we stopped the offense to zero gain for four plays, we could forego the brutal wind sprints at the end of practice. We were fired up to earn this reward.

I fought off a block as a defensive end, broke into the backfield, folded our star quarterback up hard, and drove him into the ground. The whistles blew, and I jumped up to celebrate with my black hat teammates. A few seconds later, I found myself face down in the grass where the quarterback, post-whistle, hit me from behind in retaliation.

"What are you doing punk, hitting me like that, I'm the quarterback, and you're just a black hat. Know your place," the Q.B. screamed.

A tussle between sides ensued until the coaches got it settled down, and you Coach, stepped in, grabbed the Q.B. by the shoulder pads, and pushed him toward the sideline.

“Get off the field, we don’t play like that here, and you may not play for me again. We compete but we don’t cheat,” you said. "If one succeeds, we all succeed, whether in practice or a game. If one fails, we all fail. When will you all learn that?”

We stopped them cold for the remainder and watched the first team run sprints from the sideline. You were more than fair and always lived what you said.

You coached at the same High School for sixty-three seasons, went undefeated five times, won six hundred and twenty-one games (still the national record,) and turned down many Colleges’ coaching offers. More importantly, you raised two daughters and over four thousand sons and taught us honesty, integrity, and unity.

Big or small, come one come all, you never cut a player that wanted to try. You kicked many a young man off the team for breaking the rules, but you were on the team if you showed up and tried.

Two talented players moved into the state and joined our team. The brothers were blue-chip college recruits and earned starting positions at linebackers. You had a zero-tolerance rule about no smoking.

“If you are ever caught smoking, on campus, off campus, in season, or out a season, you will be permanently cut from the team,” you said.

That following summer, the brothers stood in front of the Pool Hall on Main St and sucked on their cigarettes. They knew the rule but figured they were too important to the team and ignored it. You drove down Main St and saw them. That night, you visited their parents and told them they would need to transfer and move if they wanted to play their Senior year because they would never play for Summerville again.

Many thought the penalty of losing two great players would hurt the team but instead made us stronger. You didn’t just tell us how to live but showed us. That year we went to the State Championships.

In 1974, after my first four weeks of grueling practice, I padded up and pulled the black helmet cover and black practice vest over my jersey. My scrub teammates and I made our way down the gym hall to the field for our last practice before our first game. You gathered us in the middle of the practice field.

“Men, we have a problem,” you said. “Why are these players wearing black helmet covers?” and pointed to us.

“We all come from different places and backgrounds, but here we are one. What is the symbol of our unity?” he said.

Green and Gold,” The team yelled.

The upperclassman ripped the black covers and pullovers off us, and we were all in green. At that moment, I understood you, your mission, your struggle, and your gift of unity.

That was your mantra, oneness. No matter your size, speed, talent, or skin color. You taught us all to be one for a common purpose. Through the struggles of life, I have applied your lessons every day, as I know others have, to business, to family, to our community, to our country.

You taught us two rules to succeed in football and life.

"The harder you work, the luckier you get," you said, "There can be no satisfaction without a struggle."

You could have made millions of dollars as a Division 1 or NFL Football coach. Alabama’s Bear Bryant recruited you amongst many others. You choose to stay in the same small town and coached young men for sixty-three years through the most critical years of their lives, including mine.

Three times Coach, you were named the national high school coach of the year. Your name is in the South Carolina Athletic Hall of Fame, the South Carolina football coaches association hall of fame, the South Carolina hall of fame and the national high school hall of fame.

The fame and awards never changed you, and you continued to show up until the age of ninety years to teach another generation. The struggle of age led to the satisfaction of a life well-lived. Your actions will go on forever in the lives of all who knew you. But the highest honor given to you was the title, forever Coach, by thousands of players, fans, and your community.

You coached star players like Stanford Jennings long before the Cincinnati Bengals, A.J. Green before the Arizona Cardinals, and you coached me, a skinny black hat scrub. You taught and treated us all the same.

We are your legacy. We are all your sons. You are our hometown hero.

Thank You Coach, until we meet again,

Scott