Craig Maltby of Clive [pictured at the right] writes about a couple of big winners -- retired football coach Barry Switzer [left] and the late sports columnist Maury White -- in this essay titled "Maury and Barry (and Me)":
My twin daughters go off to college next year. They are both excellent musicians, helping place Waukee in the ranks of the top three Iowa high school jazz bands for the past two years. One is contemplating music as a major. The other may minor in music. As I have been contemplating double tuition and suddenly being an empty nester overnight, I’ve also been thinking about how lucky I am to have two talented kids and what their future holds. I’m also determined to let them pursue their passions, whatever they may be or however they may change. Sure, every dad would love for their kids to be a potential Nobel biochemist or the next F. Lee Bailey...well, at least a biochemist, anyway.
I remember reading how Barry Switzer, the celebrated Oklahoma Sooner football coach, had a son who was a talented pianist, and the coach did everything he could to support his kid’s pursuit of piano performance. He wasn’t hell bent on making an OU linebacker out of the lad (although I did notice he may have played at Arkansas during his college years). The young Switzer ended up with a piano master’s degree from the University of Missouri-Kansas City.
And then, another Sooner memory emerges. This one starts with the late Maury White, the legendary Des Moines Register sports columnist who, back in the 80s, wrote a piece about Switzer the week that Oklahoma was to take on Iowa State in Ames.
White wrote a “birthday card” column for Switzer, who was turning 50 years old that week. Ever the enterprising reporter (which a great columnist must be, on top of being an outstanding scribe), White rounded up a stirring account of Switzer’s childhood Arkansas. He grew up in a shack with no running water or electricity, the son of a bootlegger father and a dysfunctional mother who killed herself with a shotgun while the teen-aged Barry was in his adjacent bedroom. His dad was shot by his mistress, according to Sports Illustrated, and both died in a car crash while on the way to the hospital.
Despite these unbelievable obstacles, the young Switzer was an immensely popular kid in high school, and went on to build a coaching career that produced three national championships. “Happy Birthday, Barry,” wrote White to end the column.
That moved me, a 20-something punk at the time. I wrote to Maury (pen, paper and stamp back then) and told him what a wonderful piece he had published. He promptly wrote back, thanking me for the note and telling me that it does his soul good when he hears kudos from readers.
I also decided to mail a note to Coach Switzer, OU Athletic Dept., Norman, OK. I don’t know if I even tried finding the zip code (no search engines back then). I attached the Maury White column and told him how inspiring his story was.
Several days later, a letter arrives with a picture of an OU football helmet in the envelope’s return address.
I open it and find a couple simple sentences thanking me for taking time to write and how it makes one thankful for the good turns life can take. I don’t think it was written by an athletic dept. PR intern because the style was too basic (maybe even grammatically incorrect) and too honest to come from some assigned ghost writer.
So what does this have to do with anything today? Hell, I don’t know. I guess whenever we feel we have it rough once in a while, we might imagine a shanty in Crossett, Arkansas, where some unlucky kid overcame unimaginable odds to achieve some very big things. And produce some apparently talented kids as well. I guess I’m just a pathetic sucker for a true charcoal-stove-to-championships story.
Another lesson, maybe: Famous people, especially those whose work and life get criticized every day, are not immune to really appreciating some honest praise or a pat on the back once in a while. They have basic emotional needs like anyone else. I’ve gotten immediate responses from a number of folks -- national columnists at the Washington Post, New York Times, a trumpet player for a renowned jazz group -- whom I contacted out of the blue to say, “Your work really rocks.” If people are doing a good job, why not let them know?! Directly.
OK, that’s enough schmaltz for one day.
[RON MALY'S COMMENTS: What a nicely written piece, Craig. I, of course, knew Maury White well. I sat next to the man in the same newspaper office for many years [back when there was still a Big Peach], and I knew how hard he worked at his craft. I also knew Barry Switzer a little. I once asked him if any of the rumors were true that he might be interested in becoming Iowa State's football coach. He gave me a diplomatic answer, which meant, "No, I'm not interested in Iowa State because I have designs on becoming the next Oklahoma coach." After that, I covered plenty of games in which Switzer's Sooners ran roughshod over most teams in their path. He, too, worked hard at his craft. By the way, Craig Maltby tells me, "I thrive on the only four things that matter in this world: politics, movies, rock music (classic rock, that is) and sports."]
