by Gary Pinkel
Now we had to keep everyone focused. That was a challenge with two games left in the season. Reality set in after the big win. We were doing the right things, but it was hard for everyone to stay on task. The kids didn’t know what was going to happen after the season. The staff had to be wondering what the future held. They had never been through something like this.
After the BYU game, we needed to win one of the next two against Tennessee or Arkansas to make a bowl game. But just looking at the team and talking to the guys around the facility, I realized the reality had set in. They all had questions that I couldn’t answer. What does this mean for Mizzou’s future? Will they hire someone from the staff? Will they keep the whole staff? They weren’t focused on the games, and I didn’t do enough to keep them focused. There were a lot of closed office doors around the building that week.
We lost our final home game, my final home game, to Tennessee 19–8. After the game, our two senior offensive linemen Evan Boehm and Connor McGovern carried me off the field. It was so nice of them to do that. It was for all the right reasons. But I was miserable. We lost the game and there was nothing to celebrate. But that was such a wonderful gesture from those guys on a night that was their final home game, too.
We ended the season at Arkansas. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday of that week I could see it in the team’s body language. They were so worried about the future. We didn’t give ourselves a chance in the game, a 28–3 loss. It was a good time to play Missouri those last two weeks. Tennessee and Arkansas were good teams, too.
It was an awful way to finish a season. The BYU game was, “Win one for the Gipper,” but that euphoria wore off the next week. The players didn’t have time to process what happened before the BYU game. But they had plenty of time after the game. Things peaked emotionally against BYU, and from there they didn’t have much left in the tank.
We had a staff meeting leading up to the Tennessee game and I looked around the room at my coaches. I told them, “You guys look like you want to kick my ass right now.” They looked angry. Their lives were in total disarray, and that wasn’t supposed to happen when you worked for me.
We ended the season 5–7, a year stuffed with more challenges and adversity than any season I had experienced as a head coach. It wasn’t the way I wanted to end my career, but I was ready to step away.
I was aware people were angry that I had supported our players during the boycott. I didn’t pay attention to the media coverage, but I always wanted to be aware of what my players were reading and hearing. In Jefferson City, state legislators threatened to cut funding for the university because of the boycott. Other legislators proposed a bill stripping college athletes of their scholarship if they protested social issues. Others made comments about me and Mack and disapproved of how we had handled the situation in the fall. One state senator threatened to launch an investigation into my actions and said I discredited the university. They were making judgments about what happened when they simply had no idea. That was disappointing. But I couldn’t worry about those things. We had to do the right thing, and I believe we did. Sometimes things happen and you make tough decisions that some people don’t like.
• • •
Back to the BYU game. I received a bunch of calls and texts from former players on the bus ride to Kansas City. They were all very touching.
We got to the hotel and I went to my room. Andy Hill, one of our assistant coaches, called me from the lobby to say someone was there to see me. I got in the elevator, the doors opened, and there was Jeremy Maclin, who was then playing for the Chiefs. He had a game in Denver that weekend, but he came to see me before leaving town. J-Mac wrapped his arms around me and said he loved me. It started to hit me what I was going to miss most about this job.
Mizzou vs. Arkansas
November 28, 2014 Columbia, Missouri
The start of the Mizzou-Arkansas rivalry game came with an extra incentive. If we win, we capture the SEC East and punch our ticket to Atlanta for the conference championship game. We played the game the Friday after Thanksgiving, so I delivered my Thursday speech on Wednesday.
Team Meeting Wednesday, November 26, 3:30 pm
“We must understand that this is the beginning of the Arkansas SEC rivalry. This game will be played the last game every season on Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving forever. There is a responsibility you and I have. You will have your personal record against Arkansas on your stay here as a Missouri Tiger. I hope you understand that responsibility.
“Seniors, I know this is not your last game, but it’s your last game at the Zou, the tradition you helped to continue and build. How can I thank you? Thank you for all that you have done for Mizzou football, the University of Missouri and the state of Missouri. You should be proud of your efforts. I am proud of you. You’ve made your mark for greatness, examples of leadership and determination that will always be remembered in Mizzou history. Your sacrifice has been incredible. You have helped Mizzou persevere through the ups and downs of competition and have propelled us into one of the winningest programs in the country. Seniors, you will remember your experiences here at Mizzou, but none more than your last game in the ZOU!”
Final: Mizzou 21, Arkansas 14
A tight game broke Mizzou’s way when Markus Golden corralled a fumble late and we clinched a second straight SEC East championship and another trip to Atlanta to play for the SEC championship.
10. Retirement: A New Direction
I quickly realized once I officially became a former college football coach that my life was missing two things: a plan and a desk.
I was so busy with the football season that I hadn’t given much thought to my retirement. I didn’t have a plan for what I should do next. Once reality set in that I was done coaching, there was nothing for me to do. And that was scary.
After the season, I signed a three-year contract to serve as an ambassador to the university. I would essentially be on call to help the athletic director and campus leaders for fundraising events and public relations. It was a less time-consuming role than coaching football, but it’s something I wanted to fulfill, to help the department raise money so our program and the university could grow.
Otherwise, I had no plan and little purpose.
For 25 years I had an enormous responsibility to lead 127 players and all my staff in a job that never stopped. As a head coach, my calendar was filled with precise tasks every single day. I never had 30 minutes just to chill out in my office. Something was always happening.
Then, suddenly, I retired and I had…time, so much time. I wasn’t sure what to do with it all. That was a very hollow feeling. I was used to solving problems and making decisions. I was used to constantly evaluating people and praising people to make sure the daily operations functioned the right way. Then, all of a sudden, my schedule was blank. I loved running the program, but now I wasn’t running anything. For the first time in 25 years, I wasn’t the boss. That was difficult to process.
For 40 years, and especially the last 25 as a head coach, my routine was predictable and my mind was focused on my job during the season. In the morning, I would meet my coffee group at Lakota for 10 minutes or so before heading to the office. These were friends who knew my demeanor. The closer we got to the season, my friends could tell my mind was elsewhere, locked in for those crucial months during the season. I was physically present, having a few chuckles over coffee with my friends, but my mind was on the season because every year, those months decided my future. That’s why coaches wake up at three in the morning thinking about players and plays and schemes. As a young head coach at Toledo, I had to learn how to manage all those thoughts and concerns. By the time we got to game day, I was too wired. I had to chill out so I could just focus on my job. Being a head coach at this level is like running a major corporation but with more public scrutiny and less certainty from year to year. Not every coach in the business can han
dle that stress.
Once I retired, I learned quickly that it was important to have a plan every day before I went to bed at night. People who had retired warned me against waking up without knowing how to spend the day. I’m so detailed-oriented, but I had to learn how to use email and the calendar on my iPhone. That was one of the biggest adjustments for me, mastering all of the technology. I didn’t have my secretary, Ann, or director of operations, Dan. Now I was a staff of one.
And my staff of one didn’t have a desk. In my Columbia home, I have a den where I hung pictures from my Mizzou office, but there was something missing. I didn’t have a desk. As a coach, my office in the team facility was my personal headquarters, my home base. I had a desk my whole life and had everything meticulously organized on my desk and inside my desk. I knew exactly where everything was located in every drawer. Things were placed precisely where I knew they would be. My desk gave me a sense of order and calm.
It sounds crazy, but when I retired and began spending more time at home, I really struggled without a desk. So I went and bought one, and I organized my new desk with everything I needed to recapture that sense of organization and calm. I bought filing cabinets, too. My home office needed that same structure I had in the football office. Once those were in place, I felt much better. I had an office. I had my desk. I could work on writing letters and other projects that would keep me busy. I dressed the room with photos and plaques that reminded me of the blessings I had enjoyed during my career.
I received so many thoughtful letters from fans when I announced my retirement. I was a little overwhelmed by the response. I received probably a dozen letters from Kansas fans wishing me well. Kansas fans! Among the countless letters was a handwritten note that came from Colorado, dated November 18, the week before we played Tennessee for my final home game. It was from the most famous Tennessee Vol of all time.
“Coach Pinkel, I just want you to know you and your health are in my thoughts,” the letter began. It was from Peyton Manning, who I’d met a few years earlier at an NFL awards banquet where one of my former players was honored. Peyton, in the middle of Denver’s stretch drive toward his second NFL championship season, took time out of his day to send me a handwritten letter. That was so touching.
Gradually, I found ways to occupy my time.
My first responsibility was to the university. I’m on call for any events or speaking engagements they need me to attend. I was thrilled that Mizzou decided to move forward on a new football team facility in the south end zone of Memorial Stadium, a concept that I initially urged our leadership to pursue. This is critical to continuing the program’s growth.
For the first few months of retirement, I did some broadcast work with ESPN and SEC Network, which I really enjoyed. I thought about pursuing it further, but I wasn’t ready to make that kind of time commitment. That would have defeated the purpose behind my plans for retiring, to de-stress my life and spend more time with family.
I gave leadership talks to corporations and student groups. I didn’t play much golf my first year in retirement. Golf helped Don James once he retired from the University of Washington because he could compete on the course. He didn’t want to lose that competitive edge that came with coaching, and golf became his outlet.
Missy and I attended some big NFL and college games as fans, something I could never do while still coaching. We watched Washington play Alabama in the Peach Bowl, my former school against an SEC team led by my former teammate and friend Nick Saban. We went to Tampa for the national championship game when Clemson beat Alabama. We visited some former players at their NFL games. We went to the Super Bowl, and we watched the Patriots pull off the biggest comeback in Super Bowl history—and got to see Lady Gaga’s remarkable halftime show.
My favorite part about being retired is putting my grandchildren in my schedule. I now have the convenience of hopping in my Jeep to visit Kansas City to see my son Blake, his wife, Jenny, and their two kids, Bradley and Grant. And then I can swing through Sedalia and visit my son Geoff, his wife, Jen, and their three kids, Taylor, Kellan, and Chace. My daughter Erin, her husband, Josh, and their three daughters, Madison, Ella, and Gracy, live in Columbia, so I’m fortunate that I can see them all the time, too. And my dear sister Kathy and her husband, Greg, who relocated from Ohio to Columbia in 2015, live just three miles from my home after we lived in separate cities for more than 50 years. I enjoy catching up on old times with frequent lunch visits.
That’s the great reward of being retired. There’s so much more family time, something that wasn’t always possible for a college coach.
Once I settled into retirement, I spent more time around Missy’s two children, Mira and Jace, and began to realize just how seldom I was home when my kids were growing up, first in Seattle and then Toledo. It’s been a huge eye-opener to see them go through stages of teenage life and experience things that I sometimes missed with my kids. College coaching is an amazing profession. Schools pay us a lot of money to coach the sport. But the calendar demands so much of our time and energy at the expense of being home with family.
My first year out of coaching I had a sort of awakening. I looked back on my calendar from a recent season and found it staggering. I was consumed by the job and the lifestyle. And that comes at a price.
That’s what propelled me to pick up the phone about six months after I retired. I called all three kids and apologized for being gone so much. My kids were great, so understanding. All three of them had similar responses. “Dad, you always came home when you weren’t coaching. You weren’t out drinking beers with your buddies or out playing golf all the time.”
All three children had great benefits from my career. For the most part we stayed in the same place for long periods of time. I didn’t pack them up and make them move schools and find new friends every other year. My wife did a great job raising the children when I couldn’t be there to help.
I always knew what was going on with the kids, but I missed a lot of the day-to-day activities from August to February. I was almost always gone on the weekends, especially during the fall. Recruiting dominated my schedule in December, January, and February. You’ve got 104 weekend days a year, and I probably had 20 of them free. That’s it. I was fortunate that our kids understood the routine. Bowl games became our vacations, and our kids appreciated those trips. We went to 11 bowls in 12 years at Washington. We went to 10 bowls at Missouri. It was a great reward for all the coaches’ families.
Erin, my oldest, was very competitive in sports, and I tried my best to make it to her games. I was always very protective of her. When she started dating, I was incredibly strict, especially with curfews. She was supposed to be home at 11, but one night she walked in at about 11:02. I lost my mind. Another time, a guy called the house and asked for Erin. She wasn’t there, so he asked if she could call him back. I unloaded on the poor guy. “My daughter does not call boys back!” She talked to her mom and her mom told me I had to lighten up. I think I did, eventually. Erin attended Toledo when I was coaching there, and there came a time when I caught a player saying her name in front of me. Big mistake. It never happened again. No player ever had the guts to date her, much less mention her name in my presence. I was probably overly protective. She sometimes called me Mr. L, because I liked to lecture at home.
When we were in Toledo, Erin could sense when I was going through rough times. Her solution was she would print out motivational Bible verses and tape them to the stairs in our home. That way, when I’d come home from work, I’d see those messages as I climbed the stairs. She has such a big heart. Here I was working ridiculous hours away from home and spending almost all my time with other parents’ kids—and it was Erin, my daughter, helping me get through the hard days.
I prayed often that she would find the right guy. Her husband, Josh, is the right guy. I used to kid around that he was on probation for 10 years.
Now, as adul
ts, Erin and I can confide in each other. That’s developed over time as she’s grown up. We can talk about a lot of personal things. She trusts me and I trust her. For a father, it’s the greatest feeling you can ever have, to develop that kind of relationship with your kids. It’s so different now that she’s got her own family and she’s an adult. You want to become friends with your kids when they’re adults. You help prepare them to become responsible people so that when you push them out the door into the real world they can deal with what’s out there. You throw some tough love in there, too.
My oldest son, Geoff, played sports growing up in Seattle and Toledo and became a really good golfer. He graduated from Toledo and now lives in Sedalia, Missouri. He married Jen, his high school sweetheart. I’m so proud of him. He has obtained a position in a prestigious energy company, which has catapulted him into an executive level that requires great responsibility and trust. As his father, I could always count on Geoff for his insight. His savvy knowledge of college football would offer me a perspective with details that I might not otherwise have known.
Blake, my youngest, graduated from high school in Toledo after I took the Missouri job then enrolled at Mizzou and got his degree there. He’s a great father and loving husband to Jenny, also a graduate of Missouri. Blake reminds me more and more of my father. Like my dad, Blake can fix most anything. He is a problem-solver and is persistent in all things he sets his mind to. Even though he has a somewhat calm demeanor, his aggressiveness in sales and business management has made him a professional in his field. Once I retired, I made an effort to talk to my boys more regularly on the phone and visit them as much as possible.
As a father, I can’t be prouder of their accomplishments and the people they have become growing up in this crazy family life of coaching. They endured reading news articles that were critical of their dad and fans in the stands yelling obscenities. They also witnessed the love and commitment that fans displayed over the years. I want to believe it gave them a broad perspective of life. You want your kids to be responsible people, considerate and self-sustaining. You hope they develop that work ethic. All three kids have done just that.