For the longest time, they were rivals coaching baseball at the two premier universities in New Jersey, namely Rutgers and Seton Hall.
Fred Hill, Sr. and Mike Sheppard, Sr. were institutions at their respective schools -- Hill at Rutgers and Sheppard at Seton Hall. They were identified with their schools. If you thought of Rutgers, your first thought was of the guy they called Moose. If you thought of Seton Hall, you immediately pictured Shep.
They were living legends, guys that personified class, grace and dignity. They were baseball royalty, not just in New Jersey, but throughout the country. In their baseball coaching careers, Hill and Sheppard won almost 2,000 games between them. Think about that for a second. Two thousand wins in a sport that doesn't play 162 times like they do in the big leagues. There are a lot of times that a college baseball game gets rained out (imagine that in northern New Jersey in April and May?) and never gets rescheduled.
If you went to a high school baseball game and either Moose or Shep was in attendance, then you knew it was a place of importance. There must have been a player or two that they were interested in recruiting, so if you spotted them, you knew that it was the place to be, no matter how cold and damp the day was.
I was very fortunate and blessed to have been able to call both men friends of mine.
And now, after hearing word this morning that Shep had passed away, I realized that both coaching titans were now gone. We lost both in the matter of weeks.
How brutally ironic is that? They were coaching rivals, but they were also friends, basically because they were cut from the same cloth, from the same area. They both were born and raised in Essex County, cut their baseball teeth on the fields of Newark, learned their craft right around the same time in the same circles.
Their respective families all had ties with each other and both had excellent athletic families. The Moose gave the world a son, Fred, Jr., who got into coaching and was the head basketball coach at Rutgers and then served as an assistant at Seton Hall. Fred's brother, Brian, was a long-time respected coach who later became a head coach in the NBA with the Orlando Magic.
As for the Sheppard family, well, we could go on for hours. His three sons all went on to follow in their father's footsteps and became highly respected baseball coaches-- Mike, Jr. has been the head coach at Seton Hall Prep for three decades. Rob Sheppard immediately replaced his father after an illness and became the head baseball coach at Seton Hall University. And John has been the head coach at Morristown-Beard for the last 20 years, earning his own place of prominence in the coaching circles.
The Sheppard family ties in coaching go further than just the immediate circle. Shep's brother-in-law is my good friend Ted Fiore, who I had the absolute pleasure of working with for six years at St. Peter's College. His nephews are Tim and Vin Byron, who have been involved with coaching high school and college baseball for almost 30 years. His son-in-law is Ed Blankmeyer, who worked with Shep at Seton Hall before becoming the head coach at St. John's University, carving his own niche as one of the best collegiate baseball coaches in the nation.
So coaching is a major part of both the Hill and Sheppard families. It's beyond a bloodline or a lifeline. It's called tradition.
I cannot fathom the idea that both legends are gone in the matter of weeks.
I will always treasure the hearty handshakes, great smiles and laughs I shared with Shep over the years. He was a good friend, a loyal friend, someone who always looked out for me and vice versa. I know that there are thousands of other people who feel the same way that I do this morning, the feeling of absolute loss and sorrow that Shep is gone.
I know that his health was failing over the last few months, so maybe his passing is a blessing that his suffering is now over. Phyllis and her family can get on with their lives now and not have that immense burden of worrying about and caring for Shep the way the family did over the last few months. That had to be such a tough chore for all of them, considering how incredibly close the family was.
Maybe there's a baseball field in the great beyond, a field that has pristine green grass with no dandelions and weeds. Maybe that field has two incredibly fierce rivals that are playing in bright sunshine and warm summer breezes and wooden bats and clean white baseballs.
And maybe, just maybe, the two are together again, coaching against each other like always, putting their genius masterminds together to outsmart the other.
The state of New Jersey baseball will never see two characters like Fred Hill and Mike Sheppard ever again. Shep and the Moose, two legends who are now unfortunately gone. It's the bottom of the ninth and there's no one coming in from the bullpen.
Maybe the state of New Jersey can do something to honor these two titans together for perpetuity, build a new baseball park somewhere in Essex County and name it the Fred Hill-Mike Sheppard Baseball Complex. We need something to forever remember Shep and the Moose.
I know I will definitely remember them both fondly and forever. They were both major parts of my athletic life and I know they were so incredibly influential to everyone who got the chance to know them.
It's really a sad day in New Jersey sports circles. Shep has joined Moose on that diamond in the sky. Play ball.
===========================================================================
Now, as for the ending of the Virginia-Auburn game Saturday in the Final Four, there's no way no how that the call should have been made.
I know that rules are rules and it was a foul, that there was contact on the play and all that. I understand that as well as anyone.
But an official should NEVER decide the outcome of a game on his own, whether it's a Biddy game or the NCAA National Semifinals. And yes, that official, James Breeding, decided the game by calling the foul on Samir Doughty that gave Kyle Guy the three free throws that enabled Virginia to win the game 63-62.
I've seen the replay about 35 times. The foul takes place after Guy released the ball. The foul did not impede Guy's ability to take the shot. The foul occurred when Guy was trying to land after taking the shot.
Yes, by the law of the land, it's a foul. Rules state that a player has the right to land and Doughty did not give Guy the chance to land after taking the shot. So in that respect, it was indeed a foul.
But in that case, you have to swallow the whistle. It would have been a fine no-call and no one would have complained. Guy had the opportunity to take the shot. He missed the shot. Game over. Auburn wins.
?
But James Breeding will be forever remembered as the guy who decided the outcome of the Auburn-Virginia game. Not the players. The official decided it. And that's just wrong.
I know this is a discussion that will go on and on for months, maybe years. Who knows when Auburn will ever get another chance like that? They might have won a national title. We will never know.
I just know that I feel bad for Auburn's players because they were denied the chance to play for the national title. I can't say that they were cheated out of a chance to win. But James Breeding decided the game, not the players. And that's just way wrong in my eyes. Way wrong.
==========================================================================
You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com and www.theobserver.com
No comments:
Post a Comment