Chester got me into remarkable shape

I watched the Port St. Joe Sharks lose a heartbreaker to the Blountstown Tigers in the closing minute and a half of the football game two weeks ago. I didn’t blame the officials. I thought the coaches did an excellent job. The weather wasn’t a factor. And I can guarantee you, our young men fought their guts out.

It’s football! That little odd-shaped thing can bounce in all sorts of directions.

I can take the loss. I have endured many of them over six decades standing on that very same sideline. But my heart cried for our guys in the arena….

As I watched their heads drop in those final seconds, I was transformed as if by magic to August 18, 1969. Coach Wayne Taylor stood before a group of wide-eyed youth, “Men, I want you to meet Coach Colbert, he will be working with us this year.”

With that simple introduction, covering the space of half a heartbeat, I became a football coach. I had no training. I’d never been to “coaching school.” I’d played a little football along the way, But I was not very good. And I was barely 21 years old.

They gave me a whistle that looked like it came over on the Mayflower. I was wondering why I turned down that job offer at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville as I hustled down to the chutes to watch Jimmy Lancaster and Larry McFarland “fire off the line.”

“Coach,” we were about halfway through the first morning workout, “we’re moving to defense, you want to coach the tackles or the ends?” I spied a big, lanky kid, moving by with grace and agility oozing out of him.

“I will go with the big guy.” Coach Taylor nodded. And I became a defensive end coach for the rest of my career.

The “big guy” turned out to be Adrian Gant. And for the rest of the year, he proceeded to make me look like a real football coach. He worked hard every day. He would smile and complain about “too hot” and “too much running,” but he never failed to give you his best effort.

He was an All-State defensive end. But what I took special note of, we’d turn around and run offense – which he didn’t particularly like – he’d work just as hard at his left tackle spot.

The second game of that first year he came over to the sideline and said, “Coach, they are calling me a (the racial slur of the first magnitude) out there.” Folks, Adrian is 17 years old. I have been a football coach for all of one month. I wished immediately I was older and wiser and had ANY kind of experience here. A veteran coach would have known exactly how to handle this….

I put my white arm around his black neck and hugged him so tight I think we both quit breathing.

I attended Adrian Gant’s funeral several years ago with tears sliding down my face. I remembered the smile more than the tackles. I thought of his determination and hustle more than any particular game. I remembered his big, strong arm going around my skinny neck, “Coach, you’re going to take it easy on me today, aren’t you?”

And I remembered how for 40 years after his playing days ended, he never met me anywhere in town without that smile and a hug… and a reminder of how much I ran him.

Let me tell you something, high school football doesn’t revolve around one last ditch play late in the fourth quarter against Blountstown.

I don’t share a lot of football memories. They are mostly between me and the guys. But, thank the good Lord, so many, many brave young men have given me a million of them! People ask who was my favorite player or who was the best player…. I tell them it was always the one standing in front of me at the moment.

Chester Fennell was a phenomenal inside linebacker. He missed practice one day because of a death in his family. He had to run 50 laps to make up his work. He was upset; he thought it was too much. Of course, as the Young Coach, I kept up with the after-practice laps. Or, taters as the kids called them.

Chester wasn’t going to do it. I dropped my clipboard and said, “I’ll run them with you.” It took us four or five practice days to “get him clear.” He came running by with a smile after the next practice, eased the clipboard out of my hand and motioned me to follow him. We ran “taters” after every practice for the rest of that year and ALL of the next one!

I threw that whistle away halfway through the first year. Nothing wrong with having one, it just didn’t turn out to be my way. And one last word on that first season. We were undefeated going into the last game against Blountstown.

We were 10 points behind with three minutes left, and they had the ball. My heart was breaking, there was just no way…. But the team didn’t know that! Our defense, led by Adrian, shut them down completely and Chuck Roberts threw two quick “z-out” touchdown passes to George Williams to pull out an amazing win.

To the young men on this year’s team, sometimes that oddly shaped ball bounces in our favor….

We appreciate your hard work and effort.

Respectfully,

Coach