David Stecchi was a hulking beast of a man. Then, in his 60's, he was clearly a force with which to be reckoned. It was obvious that in his prime he must have been an indomitable physical presence.
Yesterday evening a good friend of mine texted me, and I couldn't believe what I was reading. My high school football coach had passed away. Of course, I was shocked and taken aback. Almost immediately though, I remembered. I remembered who he was and what he did for me. I began reflecting on how through his influence I became who I am today. No amount of words, or completeness of story telling could ever do him justice, so I'll just offer a few thoughts on the toughest man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.
I was a 13yr old that hated everything about school and was an all-around unhappy little porker. The one thing I had going for me was impressive strength for my size and age. Eventually, some of the kids I hung around with who played football convinced me to come out for the team my sophomore year. I committed to doing it, and lifted weights in the sweltering dungeon of a weight room that we had at Dracut High School back in those days. That's where I find my first memory of the man.
...it was a dream forged by a blacksmith hammering us on the anvil of defeat and heated by the fire of criticism.
He was sitting on an incline bench press presiding over the 6 or 7 of us who had come in to pump iron in preparation for the grid iron dreams of the coming season. David Stecchi was a hulking beast of a man. Then, in his 60's, he was clearly a force with which to be reckoned. It was obvious that in his prime he must have been an indomitable physical presence. His hands were the size of an entire football, with craggy knuckles so big they must have been broken ten times each. His Super Bowl ring was large enough to be a bracelet on me. The man's face was rugged, furrowed and careworn. He had been a tight end at Holy Cross in the 1950's BEFORE face masks - something I can't even imagine. He carried about him a presence and an air of authority that was intimidating, but not without a softness that his students and players could feel.
I was at once terrified of the man, and immediately drawn to his leadership. Over the coming months and years he would become the most influential figure in my life, aside from my parents. Football is really a backdrop to this story. As poignant, cherished, and beyond words football is for me...it's still just a stage on which this formative period played out. Coach taught me how to knock someone into the middle of next week with just a helmet and shoulder pads. More importantly though, he taught me that it was OK when the 270 pound senior dick-bag ran me over like a steamy pile...so long as I got back up and punched him in the throat on the next play.
Coach schooled us in the art of the win - on a team that had barely won a game in 3yrs. We would have our revenge and nearly run the table as seniors, but it was a dream forged by a blacksmith hammering us on the anvil of defeat and heated by the fire of criticism. He taught us how to thrive in spite of it, and eventually to rise above it. We were constantly and publicly lambasted by the local papers and the people of Dracut, who felt we didn't belong in our conference anymore, unable to compete with the Chelmsfords and Billerica's. Like the bumble bee who doesn't know that it's not supposed to be able to fly, coach taught us to fight harder than anyone else that we would have our day - and we did - the world be damned.
It was Coach Stecchi who brought out the best in me for the first time. Through sheer force of will, I (and the rest of our team) accomplished things the rest of the world said were impossible. The world said I was too short. "There's no way a 5'5" kid can be a good offensive/defensive lineman." All-conference both ways, bitch. "There's no way Dracut will be any good, they can't compete." Well, we wrecked house with the 2 biggest schools in the league. There are countless other examples of toughness, determination, and chivalry all brought to us by Dave Stecchi.
Those of you who've been reading this blog for awhile and are accustomed to my in-your-face, aggressive motivational point of view and writing style...thanks Coach Stecchi. That attitude and outlook are one-hundred percent attributable to him - Be a prickface, Use the Force, Prepare for Glory, Choose the Wrench - are all inspired by the attitude Dave Stecchi taught me as a kid.
Live honorably and with integrity, never be ashamed of the effort you've put forth.
I'm thankful to be able to say he knew the impact he had, although I hadn't seen him in a few years. The last time I saw him was a few years ago, as a very, very new football coach. He stopped by our practice on his mountain bike to say hello. I'm not sure if he understood how powerful that meeting was. Having come full circle like that, he was now standing on the field next to me while I was doing my best to give a new group of kids what he had given to me.
What I do now, CrossFit, and how I do it is just an extension of what I learned from Coach. Fight. Hard. Never, ever, ever fucking stop. Even if there's no possible way you can win keep going until it's not up to you anymore. Be a prickface - on the field - but check that shit at the door on your way into school (or work, home, the real world, etc). Live honorably and with integrity, never be ashamed of the effort you've put forth.
My Nostalgic nature is well documented, and has always been there...even as a 17yr old kid. My last moments with Coach Stecchi as a player came after my final game as a high school senior. It was Thanksgiving morning in 1997. We had just completed the most perfect of ass-whoopings against Methuen, our neighboring town and rivals. With that, we'd completed a season that none believed in, except for us and Coach.
He was my coach.
I was sitting alone in the sun drenched locker room, long after everyone else had hurried home for their Thanksgiving dinners with family. I lingered, reflecting on the life changing experience that I thought was coming to an end (it surely wasn't...it STILL isn't). Coach walked in and said, "I knew you'd still be in here Daigle. Time to go home son." We walked outside past the field in the crisp fall air where the still lit scoreboard exclaimed "Dracut 27, Methuen 0" and showed the time of "00:00." I choked back tears the whole time, as I'm doing right now. Coach shook my hand, eclipsing my seemingly miniature hands with his giant, sausage-fingered meat hooks. I said, "Coach it's been an honor and a privilege. Thank you." Coach said something to me that I can still hear as clearly as if he was standing next to me now. He said, "Daigle...." You know what, I'm going to keep that one to myself, I hope you understand.
That's who David Stecchi was. A man of honor. A man from a generation now lost to history. A man of character that cannot be forgotten and will likely never be equalled. He taught us how to play football, how to live by the sword - on and off the field - while conducting ourselves as gentlemen. He was a leader, a father figure, and an icon. He stood for more to me than I can explain with words. The only way to put it that someone else might understand, I guess, is...He was my coach.
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| Dave Stecchi At Holy Cross. |
1 comments:
Daigle---amazing tribute!!! Well-stated and I'm sure your Coach would be proud to read this.
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