The Bear’s lesson: Nice costs nuthin’

A great friend of mine, Bill Millsaps, the retired sports editor and columnist of the Richmond Times-Dispatch and my writing idol while growing up in the business, sent me a terrific story the other day about one of my other idols, Alabama football coach Paul “Bear” Bryant.

I’ve been sitting on a behind-the-scenes story about the human side of coaches that the public doesn’t often see or even hear about, and the piece about the “Bear” prompted me to share a recent situation where Virginia coach Al Groh stepped up to the plate.

No matter what your feelings are about Groh, whether you support him as Virginia’s coach or you don’t, it’s rare that any of us see what coaches do behind the scenes. As everyone knows, this has been a trying time for the UVa coach as he tries to get his football team back on track.

He would probably prefer this story doesn’t get out because he did something out of the good of his heart for someone in the Virginia football family. Groh certainly wasn’t looking for any glory or publicity, but reached out to help a family in a time of need.

But we’ll get back to that in a moment.

The story about Bryant was told at a football banquet and was brought to life years later by Roy Exum. We’ll tell it the way Bryant talked, with his Arkansas drawl.

Bear’s story

“I had just been named the new head coach at Alabama and was off in my old car down in South Alabama recruiting a prospect who was supposed to have been a pretty good player, and I was havin’ trouble finding the place. Getting hungry, I spied an old cinder block building with a small sign out front that simply said ‘Restaurant.’

“I pull up, go in and every head in the place turns to stare at me. Seems I’m the only white fella in the place. But the food smelled good, so I skip a table and go up to a cement bar and sit. A big ole man in a T-shirt and cap comes over and says, ‘What do you need?’

“I told him I needed lunch and what did they have today? He says, ‘You probably won’t like it here. Today we’re having chitlins, collard greens and black-eyed peas with cornbread. I’ll bet you don’t even know what chitlins (small intestines of hogs prepared as food in the Deep South) are, do you?’

“I looked him square in the eye and said, ‘I’m from Arkansas, I’ve probably eaten a mile of them. Sounds like I’m in the right place.’ They all smiled as he left to serve me up a big plate. When he comes back he says, ‘You ain’t from around here, then?’

“I explain I’m the new football coach up in Tuscaloosa at the University and I’m here to find whatever that boy’s name was and he says, ‘Yeah, I’ve heard of him, he’s supposed to be pretty good.’ And he gives me directions to the school so I can meet him and his coach.

“As I’m paying up to leave, I remember my manners and leave a tip, not too big to be flashy, but a good one, and he told me lunch was on him, but I told him for a lunch that good, I felt I should play.

“The big man asked me if I had a photograph or something he could hang up to show I’d been there. I was so new that I didn’t have any yet. It really wasn’t that big a thing back then to be asked for, but I took a napkin and wrote his name and address on it and told him I’d get him one.

“I met the kid I was lookin’ for later that afternoon and I don’t remember his name, but do remember I didn’t think much of him when I met him. I had wasted a day, or so I thought.

“When I got back to Tuscaloosa late that night, I took that napkin from my shirt pocket and put it under my keys so I wouldn’t forget it. Back then I was excited that anybody would want a picture of me. The next day, we found a picture and I wrote on it, ‘Thanks for the best lunch I’ve ever had.’

“Now let’s go a whole bunch of years down the road. Now we have black players at Alabama and I’m back down in that part of the country scouting an offensive lineman we sure needed. Y’all remember, (and I forget the name, but it’s not important to the story), well anyway, he’s got two friends going to Auburn and he tells me he’s got his heart set on Auburn too, so I leave emptyhanded and go on to see some others while I’m down there.

“Two days later, I’m in my office in Tuscaloosa and the phone rings and it’s this kid who just turned me down, and he says, ‘Coach, do you still want me at Alabama?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I sure do.’ And he says, ‘OK, I’ll come.’ And I say, ‘Well, son, what changed your mind?’

“He said, ‘When my grandpa found out that I had a chance to play for you and said no, he pitched a fit and told me I wasn’t going nowhere but Alabama, and wasn’t playing for nobody but you. He thinks a lot of you and has ever since y’all met.’

“Well, I didn’t know his granddad from Adam’s house cat, so I asked him who his granddaddy was and he said, ‘You probably don’t remember him, but you ate at his restaurant your first year at Alabama and you sent him a picture that he’s had hung in that place ever since. That picture’s his pride and joy and he still tells everybody about the day that Bear Bryant came in and had chitlins with him.’

“My grandpa said that when you left there, he never expected you to remember him or to send him that picture, but you kept your word to him and, to Grandpa, that’s everything. He said you could teach me more than football and I had to play for a man like you, so I guess I’m going to.’

“I was floored. But I learned that the lessons my mama taught me were always right. It don’t cost nuthin’ to be nice. It don’t cost nuthin’ to do the right thing most of the time, and it costs a lot to lose your good name by breakin’ your word to someone.

“When I went back to sign that boy, I looked up his Grandpa and he’s still running that place, but it looks a lot better now; and he didn’t have chitlins that day, but he had some ribs that woulda made Dreamland proud, and I made sure I posed for a lot of pictures; and don’t think I didn’t leave some new ones for him, too, along with a signed football.

“I made it clear to all my assistants to keep this story and these lessons in mind when they’re out on the road. If you don’t remember anything else from me, remember this. It really doesn’t cost anything to be nice, and the rewards can be unimaginable.”

A family member in need

Which brings us to the story of former Virginia football player Chuck Heidel, who played on coach Dick Bestwick’s 1979 team that upset Georgia “Between the Hedges.”

I remember interviewing Vince Dooley in his office at UGA back in the 1980s and him telling me that the ’79 loss to Virginia was the worst loss of his coaching career.

But back to the story. Early this month, Heidel was in a terrible biking accident near his home in Maryland. He was slammed by a car and was paralyzed from the neck down.

He’s a dad of nine children, ages 10 to 24. You can imagine the devastation of that family right now as their dad was transferred to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, which specializes in such injuries and life thereafter.

A good Samaritan from the Charlottesville community who was friends with Heidel at UVa came to Groh and said that it might lift the former Cavalier player’s spirit if maybe Virginia could sent him a signed poster or something.

Groh, just coming off the upset loss to William & Mary, immediately understood the situation. He told the Samaritan, ‘I don’t want to just send a signed poster ... I want to do something much more heartfelt. This family is hurting. Do me a favor, and get the shirt sizes and names of everyone in that family.’

Groh told his team that day after practice that, “Fellas, we don’t know this guy, but we have a saying around here that once you take off the pads, you’re no longer a member of the team, but you will always be a member of the Virginia football family. Let’s reach out to this family member.”

All the team signed a football for Heidel, and a poster. But it didn’t stop there. Once Groh got the names and sizes he requested, he had a Virginia football

T-shirt made up for each person, had their name printed on the back of the shirt, just above the word ‘DAD.’

Then he researched and found Heidel’s old playing number and had the equipment room prepare a special Virginia football jersey with Heidel’s name stitched across the back.

Happiness in sad times

According to the Samaritan, Groh took great pleasure in seeing those finished products before they were shipped off to their injured football family. To say the least, that family, in all their sorrow, was greatly lifted by the kind gesture.

Just remember, Nice Costs Nuthin, and even if it costs a little, it’s worth it.

For those who would like to drop Heidel a line of encouragement, they can write his close friends in Atlanta, who will deliver those messages to him: Lee and Wendy Williams, 5717 Mt. Berry Lane, Norcross, Ga. 30092.