On behalf of myself and my family, I wanted to say "thanks" to everyone for inviting us to the football game presentation and the luncheon the next Saturday.   We had a great time and it was great to see everyone.   I know it took a lot of effort to put together and those of you who did that work should be proud.  

When I accepted the signed football on behalf my father at the luncheon on Saturday, I was not prepared to speak and then, when I did, my emotions quickly got the best of me.   I don't think my dad would have been very proud of my efforts so, as a "second chance", I wanted to post the following as what I wish I would have said that day....

I realize that I am extremely fortunate to have a father who is special to a lot of people.   But I also know that a lot of people, especially his players, coaches and others associated with his football teams were very special to him also.   Being born in 1968, I don’t have a lot of good stories about what I experienced during the “streak” but some of my earliest memories were related to Westview football.   Whether it was running around in the front yard wearing a blue number “88” or number “11” jersey and having dad toss me the football like I was Rick Wilson or hike it to me like I was Danny Walker, or trying on dad’s blue Westview hat or his black coach’s shoes (that were both way too big), or dad taking me to the school and dipping me in the hot tub, I grew up wanting to be a Westview Charger.   And, as I grew up, not having the talent to be a great football player was a disappointment for me.   I didn’t want to be good for me but I wanted to be good for my dad. I played throughout junior high and started at guard but as Coach Rick Wilson (my coach at that time) and Coach Donald Ray High can attest, I was really just an average player.  I had every intention of playing in high school but broke my arm right before the season and decided to just focus on playing baseball.   Not playing high school football is still one of my biggest regrets but it did not bother dad.   He told me it was okay and that meant a lot.

And, believe it or not, seeing those black & white pictures that you have displayed on the tables, bring back a lot of memories for me also.   Dad had most of them on his desk at home, underneath a thick glass top (to protect them from his nosy children).   I had never met most of the people in those pictures, at least not that I could remember anyway, but dad went to great lengths to make sure that I knew their names.   He was very proud of those players and wanted me to be proud of them too.

While dad was your coach, he was my coach also.   He coached me for six years in pee-wee and Little League baseball and we even had a winning streak of our own.   In 1979, when I was 11, we went 14-0 and won the Little League city championship. The next year, we went 13-1 and won the championship again.   I was very proud of those little trophies (and still am) but, as I got older, I was more proud of the fact that I got to spend time learning from my dad.   As a kid, it seemed rough to have my dad around all the time. He was my elementary school principal, he was my baseball coach after school and then was at home. It wasn’t until later on while playing high school and college baseball and talking with teammates that I realized how much I learned from him and how lucky I was to have spent so much time with him.

More recently, one of my fondest memories was when we went to a Westview football game together.   As mom knows, dad would listen to every Westview game on the radio but he wasn’t much for attending games.   One Friday night, we had come home from Nashville and Westview was playing Milan. It was a big game, maybe even a playoff game, and I could tell when he was talking about it that something was different…he was excited.   So, I said “why don’t we just drive out there and watch” and he took me up on it.   Once we got seated, I made a point of asking as many questions as I could and trying to pull that coach out of him, just a little bit.   Once he got warmed up, it was like we were in film study, but at a live game.   Dad would shout “suggestions” to Majors or Fulmer on Saturdays, most of which I can’t repeat, but this was different.   He would make comments and suggestions to me about how Westview could do this on offense or make that adjustment on defense.   I think he just enjoyed being a coach again, even if I was the only one listening.

But, while dad is not here physically, I know he is here in spirit. I can hear him now saying “Wrap it up, boy. The UT game is about to start.” So, finally, I just want to thank all of you who came to visit dad while he was sick.   And thanks to those of you that sent cards and letters of encouragement to dad before he passed and to mom afterwards.   Dad knew this event was coming and he was looking forward to it. I know he would have wanted me to tell you all how proud he was to have been your coach and your friend.