Coach Fry
From the desk of Wally Dawkins, Athletic Director:
鈥淓xperience鈥s what you get鈥hen you don鈥檛 get鈥hat you wanted to get鈥�.
Coach Harry Fry told me that as a 9th Grade football player at St. Stephens High School in Hickory North Carolina.聽 He was referring to the fact that I had not been selected as the starting quarterback on the school鈥檚 Freshman Football Team.聽 In fact, I had fallen to #3 on the depth chart after beginning two-a-days as the so-called starter.
鈥淣ext summer maybe you鈥檒l work a little harder gettin鈥� ready to play JV ball鈥� Coach Fry extolled.
Coach Fry was also the guy who gave two of my friend鈥檚 and me three swats apiece for getting locked in the cage by our teammates.聽 The cage was where each player had their own personal basket with a padlock to keep valuables such as wallets and watches. We were sure when he found us locked in the cage he would punish those unruly teammates of ours.聽 Instead, he paddled us in front of the team for allowing them to lock us in.
I came up in a different time. 础苍诲鈥� I loved Coach Harry Fry.
He was also my Driver鈥檚 Ed. Teacher.聽 After spending long hours each morning in the State of North Carolina simulator, Coach Fry would bravely take us through the hills and back country roads attempting to hone our driving skills.聽 Not once did I ever see Coach Fry react nervously when our 鈥渨arning student driver鈥� car would swerve erratically due to our lack of experience handling the gray Dodge Monaco.聽 I decided that I wanted to be like him when I grew up.
He was also the Freshman Boys Basketball Coach.聽 I could never understand how the powers at be at St. Stephens were ever able to convince this outstanding coach to work with us lowly freshman in football and basketball.
On the first day of afterschool basketball practice, while doing a full court drill, Coach Fry鈥檚 whistle blew loud and long, signaling his total displeasure with someone鈥檚 performance.
“Dawkins鈥� he yelled 鈥測ou couldn鈥檛 run out of sight in a day鈥�.
He continued 鈥渢hey call this is a fast break drill for a reason.聽 It鈥檚 not a slow break drill Dawkins!鈥�
I could tell right then by the tone in his bellowing, and by how contorted his face became when he screamed referencing my total lack of speed, that he really liked me.
I might not have been able to do it fast enough for Coach Fry, but I would have run through that proverbial wall for him.
What made coach special for me was that between the outbursts were the timely slaps on the shoulder with an accompanying 鈥渁ttaboy鈥�, or a swat on the bottom after a good play or extra effort, grinning and looking you eyeball to eyeball while speaking in a gruff whisper 鈥渢hat鈥檚 it鈥hat鈥檚 it鈥ow we鈥檙e talkin鈥欌��.
There is nothing more special to a player than the affirmations by his or her coach.
It was a lesson that I learned while playing for Coach Fry that no matter how many times I didn鈥檛 meet his expectations, there was something about him that would cause me to 鈥渄ie trying鈥� to do exactly that; meet his expectations.
I read somewhere that a true leader is a person who can get those to follow him, because his leadership makes them want to follow him. Coach Fry was a leader, and my first coaching mentor.
He mixed his wit with his wisdom, his critiques were inspiring鈥ot deflating, and his ability to parlay his knowledge about football and basketball was uncanny (not to mention that Harry Fry was also the Head Varsity Baseball Coach).
I鈥檝e been blessed as a player and as a coach, to have been associated with people in the coaching profession that were great examples to me and for me.聽 I鈥檝e also been around some that taught me 鈥渨hat not to do鈥� which also has some merit.
Regardless of 鈥渢he coaching style鈥�, a common denominator in the ones who were a huge impact on me, were the ones who I knew really cared about me鈥nd my teammates.
Coach Fry was a man that cared, and I have often wondered what happened to him.
The last time I spoke with or saw Coach Fry was the day I was leaving Hickory as we were moving back to East Tennessee.
I was fighting back tears after we shook hands for the next to last time.
He was leaning back while sitting at his desk, with his hands interlocked behind his head, elbows pointing east and west, wearing grey coaching shorts, over ankle white socks, and you guessed it鈥oe Paterno black coaching shoes.
I was upset at having to move, and coach knew it. Slowly sauntering out of his office, I welcomed the unexpected sound of his voice. 鈥淒awkins鈥� he drawled out with his deep southern accent.聽 鈥淵ou 聽gonna be alright.聽 Know why?鈥�
I stopped, turned and looked.聽 He had leaned forward and looking through those thick black glasses just as serious as he could be he growled 鈥淏ecause you鈥檙e a real comer鈥�.聽 聽Before I could say 鈥渢hanks coach鈥� he finished with 鈥渁 real cucumber鈥�!
I shook my head and laughed at his wit one more time. 鈥淕ood Luck to you son鈥� he finished while standing up, and again reaching out to shake my hand.
That small moment was the icing on the cake for me when coach simply said 鈥済ood luck to you son鈥�.
Why?聽 Because I knew he meant it.聽 I knew he wanted the best for me, and Coach Fry had spent the last year telling me that鈥n a lot of different ways.聽 It鈥檚 one of those things good coaches do.
And that鈥檚 another reason to be 鈥淎LL ORANGE鈥ll The Time!鈥�