TheSportsPredictor
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I enjoyed Austin Murphy's book on him and his program (albeit, Murphy's stories about his own family and how he portrayed his wife as a whiny hipster are eye-rolling).
It's pretty cool how Gagliardi could have gone on to more prominent schools and the NFL, but chose to remain at St. John's for all those years. Proof that you don't **** with happy.
RIP
As I've probably mentioned an annoyingly number of times on here, I attended SJU and was a passionate fan of John and his teams. When I attended school I only had a few interactions with him, but in the past few years I had the chance to visit him for extended periods of time and even in his late 80s, there was no one who could tell stories like John and his mind remained incredibly sharp and he was as witty as ever. But what made him so much fun to visit, and what helped him connect with so many people, is that as much as he liked telling stories -- some of them even true, as he said -- he liked listening to others even more.
He received a lot of national attention over the decades, but despite all that coverage, I think his career -- both what he did and how he did it -- remains, in a way, underrated. He got his first head coaching job at 16 when his high school coach went off to WW2. He became a college coach a few years later. He never served as an assistant, never had to ask permission to go to the bathroom, as he'd joke, so created his unique system from scratch, out of necessity.
John won games in eight decades. Imagine a coach this decade winning in 2080. He won 489 games and for decades his teams only played 8 games a season. He won national titles 40 years apart, showing how he adjusted with the times. His early teams won with defense (including a national title victory over powerhouse Prairie View A&M, which included Otis Taylor), his '70s teams with a quadruple option, and in the '80s he adapted early to a wide-open passing attack. And, yes, he did it in that unique way: No tackling in practice, no whistles, no tackling dummies or blocking sleds (that one might have confounded people even more than the no-tackling), players called him John because he thought it was weird for anyone but a doctor to be called by their occupation (imagine a Bama kid, "What's up, Nick?"). And he started doing these things back during Junction Boys days, when dictators reigned.
Think how unique he was: If football exists in 35 years, it's almost a certainty that every practice at every level will look like a John Gagliardi practice from the 1950s. The guy was only 100 years ahead of his time.
Part of me wishes he'd gone on to a higher level of ball and taken his philosophies with, whether when the Dolphins interviewed him or San Diego or North Dakota State, because I think his methods would have worked even better at bigger schools, with better athletes. But ultimately that doesn't matter. He was St. John's football, even though he replaced another legend as coach, Johnny "Blood" McNally. He was perfect for there.
He was funny, a great winner, a miserable loser, and one of the true American originals.
A few other links:
Some fun videos of John, including one where he tells a few of his famous stories:
Longtime Star Tribune columnist Patrick Reusse has covered Gagliardi since the mid 1960s. He's written dozens of stories on him over the decades and he's called John one of the 5 most unique characters he's ever covered. Here's just one of his pieces on John, from his retirement in 2012:
Reusse: Grandpa Gag always did it his way
The first thing you learned about was hazing and how if there was any of it, you were done - and this was before it was universally condemned. John had the seniors take freshman out, treat them well, show them they’re part of something positive. That perpetuated of course. Those juniors and seniors became gods to us. It’s like you couldn’t wait to do it for the kids when you were an upperclassman.
*****
The one part people don’t believe is John letting QBs earn the right to call plays. Think of every meathead football coach, every coach hyper focused on control. Now imagine a coach with 300 wins casually saying “Maybe try a 51 before halftime, see what they do."
John knew how to strategically cede power, give autonomy. When a coach or a boss trusts you, you spend every second doing everything you can to prove him or her right.
As I've probably mentioned an annoyingly number of times on here, I attended SJU and was a passionate fan of John and his teams. When I attended school I only had a few interactions with him, but in the past few years I had the chance to visit him for extended periods of time and even in his late 80s, there was no one who could tell stories like John and his mind remained incredibly sharp and he was as witty as ever. But what made him so much fun to visit, and what helped him connect with so many people, is that as much as he liked telling stories -- some of them even true, as he said -- he liked listening to others even more.
He received a lot of national attention over the decades, but despite all that coverage, I think his career -- both what he did and how he did it -- remains, in a way, underrated. He got his first head coaching job at 16 when his high school coach went off to WW2. He became a college coach a few years later. He never served as an assistant, never had to ask permission to go to the bathroom, as he'd joke, so created his unique system from scratch, out of necessity.
John won games in eight decades. Imagine a coach this decade winning in 2080. He won 489 games and for decades his teams only played 8 games a season. He won national titles 40 years apart, showing how he adjusted with the times. His early teams won with defense (including a national title victory over powerhouse Prairie View A&M, which included Otis Taylor), his '70s teams with a quadruple option, and in the '80s he adapted early to a wide-open passing attack. And, yes, he did it in that unique way: No tackling in practice, no whistles, no tackling dummies or blocking sleds (that one might have confounded people even more than the no-tackling), players called him John because he thought it was weird for anyone but a doctor to be called by their occupation (imagine a Bama kid, "What's up, Nick?"). And he started doing these things back during Junction Boys days, when dictators reigned.
Think how unique he was: If football exists in 35 years, it's almost a certainty that every practice at every level will look like a John Gagliardi practice from the 1950s. The guy was only 100 years ahead of his time.
Part of me wishes he'd gone on to a higher level of ball and taken his philosophies with, whether when the Dolphins interviewed him or San Diego or North Dakota State, because I think his methods would have worked even better at bigger schools, with better athletes. But ultimately that doesn't matter. He was St. John's football, even though he replaced another legend as coach, Johnny "Blood" McNally. He was perfect for there.
He was funny, a great winner, a miserable loser, and one of the true American originals.
A few other links:
Some fun videos of John, including one where he tells a few of his famous stories:
Longtime Star Tribune columnist Patrick Reusse has covered Gagliardi since the mid 1960s. He's written dozens of stories on him over the decades and he's called John one of the 5 most unique characters he's ever covered. Here's just one of his pieces on John, from his retirement in 2012:
Reusse: Grandpa Gag always did it his way