Remembering the early days of writing and Coach Wilkins

The year was 1983 and I was a young pup in the sports writing world, working at my first job in a litany of literally dozens, the Morristown Daily Record. I was 22 years old and just out of Marquette University. I was hired by the Daily Record to be a sports agate clerk, someone who would answer the phones and take the results from correspondents and put those results into the computer for someone else to write the round-ups.

The sports editor of the Daily Record then was a man named Mike Richard and in the interview process, he told me that the position of sports agate clerk was “a little below me” and that I was probably overqualified for the job. I told him I didn’t care. I was always taught that the first thing to do was get your foot in the door. I told Mike I wanted the job and he then gave it to me.

Well, the job of being a sports agate clerk lasted all of three days. On the first Saturday night I worked at the Daily Record, the assistant sports editor at the time, a wonderful man named Roger Farrell, came into the back room where all the other “agate clerks” were situated. Farrell asked, “Who back here knows something about figure skating?” I bravely put up my hand real fast.

“Good, here’s your press pass, go to the Meadowlands Arena and interview Scott Hamilton,” Farrell said. “Come back here and write the story about Hamilton.”

The truth be told, I didn’t know a single thing about figure skating, except for the fact that Dorothy Hamill was really cute. At least I knew who Scott Hamilton was. But in terms of technical moves, like double axels and forward spins, I knew not a thing. But I figured I was getting a chance to write.

That was the end of my days as a sports agate clerk. Two days later, I was told to cover a high school softball game. Then it was high school baseball, then college softball. Mike Richard left the sports department and the new sports editor was a man named Rob Tanenbaum, who really liked me and gave me so many opportunities to cover events and write. Rob really knew how to get the best out of me and pushed all the right buttons. My career as a sportswriter was about to flourish.

Later that summer, the Daily Record put out a high school football tab, with features on every single team in our circulation area and even some that were fringe schools, but we did features on those teams as well. I think it was about 48 teams in all, complete with starting lineups, heights and weights, schedules, the prior year’s statistics, the whole ball of wax.

It was about as in-depth of a high school football publication that could be found in New Jersey. We really did a sensational job with the tab – and that excellence was maintained through my second stint with the Daily Record from 2007 through 2017. Some of my proudest moments as a sportswriter came from writing the stories for the football tab every year.

Anyway, in the summer of 1983, I was first given the responsibility to write nine previews for the tab. Then, one of my colleagues broke his ankle and couldn’t finish his assignments. So naturally, the other teams were thrown into the lap of the new kid, so I had something like 16 previews to write. At the end, I was a little punch drunk, because I wrote in one preview about Whippany Park that the “Wildcats were coming off consecutive 0-9 seasons and if they don’t improve, then there will be wholesale changes in the coaching staff.”

That line amused the brilliant copy editor, the late, great Bob Handler, who used to call me to his desk whenever I did something wrong and pointed out my mistakes. That’s why Handler was one of the best editors I’ve ever worked with, because he didn’t just make changes for the sake of making changes. He would turn each article into a teaching lesson and instructed us what we were doing right and more often than not, what we were doing wrong. He was amazing.

Anyway, Handler called me to his desk and had the Whippany Park preview on his screen and just barked out, “Wholesale changes, Hague? They’re teachers. They’re teachers. They’re not coaching in the NFL. They’re teachers.”

Hey, I was 22 and totally naïve.

Anyway, the best part about doing the work on the tab back in 1983 was the awesome array of football coaching legends I had to deal with. There was the late John Bauer at Randolph, the late John Chironna at Morristown, the late Bill Regan at Delbarton and his son, Bill, Jr. at Morris Knolls. There was the immortal Ted Monica of Madison, who was always so larger than life. Coach Monica commanded respect from everyone he came across.

There was Gerry Gallagher at Morris Catholic and the late Frank Bottone at New Providence, who was one of the nicest men God ever placed on this planet.

These guys were absolute coaching legends in New Jersey. Some of the all-time leaders in New Jersey coaching victories are among those names.

One of those legends was Doug Wilkins of Mountain Lakes, a man who was a brilliant football mind and a master motivator. I was fortunate enough to become very friendly with Wilkins over the years, back when I was still wet behind the ears and knew nothing and no one to recent years, when I wrote about his retirement in 2010 after leading the Herd to another undefeated state championship season in 2009.

Wilkins walked away after the 2009 season with 328 coaching victories, with seven NJSIAA state titles.

“I thought about that,” Wilkins said in an interview with me for the Daily Record after announcing his retirement to his players.  “I’m walking away from a 25-game winning streak. How many people do that? I could have very well seen myself coaching these kids, because they’re my kind of kids. But I told them that this was about me. It wasn’t about them. They’re such a special group of kids. It was so hard for me to face them and tell them that I was leaving. I didn’t want to disappoint them. But it was time. It was good to go out on my terms. I’m feeling good physically. It makes sense.”

In that interview, Wilkins said that he reflected a lot on his career.

“When you’re coaching, you do it a year at a time and you don’t get much of a chance to look back,” Wilkins said. “But when you look back at some of the things we’ve done, it is remarkable. We haven’t had a losing season since 1984. None of the current kids were even born then. Over the last four years, we’ve been 43-3. Over the last decade, we were 97-15. It’s like we’ve created a monster and we have to keep feeding it. It’s been an incredible run. It’s been so gratifying and satisfying. I think of all the kids I’ve coached and all the friends I’ve made over the years. Some of my former players are now like my best friends. It’s been my life. That’s what I’m going to miss the most.”

Wilkins passed the coaching torch over to one of his top assistants Darrell Fusco and the Herd kept on winning. Wilkins was always there at the games, watching on the sidelines. He was there when they renamed the field after him a few years after his retirement.

Last week, Doug Wilkins passed away at the age of 76. He leaves a wife, Marjorie, three children and nine grandchildren. More importantly, he left a legacy of greatness that will never be duplicated from an era in Morris County football that can never be matched with all the coaching legends that were in the county back then. How fortunate was I to have had the opportunity to learn about football and learn about life from these coaching titans like Doug Wilkins.

The one story that comes out when recalling Doug Wilkins’ life is the tool he used to motivate his team before big games. He would bring out an old turntable and pull out Jack Jones’ Greatest Hits. And that scratchy record would warble Jones singing a familiar tune from the Broadway hit “Man of La Mancha.”

It’s hard to believe that teenage boys would sit attentively and listen to some Broadway show tune. But the song “The Impossible Dream” meant so much to Wilkins, the lyrics being attributed to football.

“To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
And to run where 
The brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
And to love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far
To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march, 
March into hell
For that heavenly cause
And I know
If I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart
Will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest
And the world will be 
Better for this
That one man, scorned 
And covered with scars,
Still strove with his last 
Ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable, 
The unreachable,
The unreachable star.”

I heard that song in the Mountain Lakes locker room some 36 years ago. I thought it was a little on the corny side when I first heard it, but what did I know? I now know how great of a motivation that song was for Wilkins’ team.

Now, I hear that song and all I can think about is Coach Wilkins, his incredible generosity to me as a young sportswriter and the generosity that was extended right up until the day he retired after 44 years of coaching.

People will gather in Denville today and pay tribute to Coach Wilkins and his great life, the legacy he will be forever remembered for. His heart can lie peaceful and calm when he’s laid to his rest. He’s reached the unreachable star.

You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com and www.theobserver.com.