Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Belly Series
Jackson Sun Article - Paul Ward 11/27/07
smp (Scott M Portis)
They gathered Monday in Huntingdon to pay final respects to Paul Ward, one of West Tennessee's true football coaching legends.
He died Saturday at age 81 and was buried in his native soil. One of the great thrills of his life was being hired to coach his alma mater - the Huntingdon Mustangs.
When he showed up for his first practice as a head coach in 1953, the 24-year-old Ward was stunned to find only nine boys on the field. He had to recruit students out of the halls and physical-education classes to corral his first herd of Mustangs.
When he retired 23 years later following the 1975 season to become superintendent of Huntingdon schools, Ward had achieved fame across the state. With 169 wins, 62 losses and six ties, he had a .726 winning percentage.
He added eight undefeated seasons, nine Volunteer Conference championships and was The Jackson Sun's Coach of the Year twice.
His last team in 1975 was 10-0 in the regular season and ranked No. 1 in the final Associated Press Class AA poll before losing to Bishop Byrne in the state playoffs.
There was nothing fancy about Ward. He was a hard-nosed disciplinarian who stressed fundamentals. If you could block and tackle better than the opponent, he figured the odds were on his side.
Passing was rarely in his game plan, especially during the early years. There were wagers among the Mustang faithful over the odds of Ward making it through a season without throwing a pass.
"The word got around that Coach Ward won't even let his wife 'pass the salt' at the breakfast table," Ward once told me. "I began passing some after that," he said.
A 1944 graduate of Huntingdon High, where he was a standout fullback, Ward served in the Navy from 1944-46. Then he went to Murray State on a football scholarship and started three years at tackle. He played on the 1948 team that won the Ohio Valley Conference title and played in the Tangerine Bowl against Sul Ross College of Alpine, Texas. Years later Ward learned that he had played against Dan Blocker, alias Hoss Cartwright of Bonanza fame, in that game.
After graduation, Ward was an assistant coach at Bruceton three years before getting the Huntingdon job. His third season with the Mustangs, the team's record was 0-9-1.
"I was lucky I didn't get fired after the third season," Ward once said.
But things changed quickly the next year when Larry Stewart, the son of a Baptist preacher, moved to town.
"He probably did more to build Huntingdon's program than anybody else," Ward said.
Running out of a "sidesaddle T," Stewart was the state's leading scorer and led the Mustangs to a 10-0 record. From 1956 to 1966, Huntingdon teams put together an incredible string of 102 wins, 7 losses and 1 tie for a .932 winning percentage.
In 1966 Tim Priest was Huntingdon's star, leading the Mustangs to an 11-0 season. He became a standout defensive back for the Tennessee Volunteers and is still heard each week as the color commentator during the UT football radio broadcasts.
Priest and Stewart were among those attending the funeral Monday, along with another former Mustang and UT lineman Warren Blankenship. Emotions ran high. The man who had helped shape their character and work ethic was gone to his reward.
Roy Dill was there, too. Dill played for Ward in 1961-64 and has kept statistics for Huntingdon football the past 32 seasons.
"You respected Coach Ward so much," Dill said. "He could get all over you one minute and be patting you on the back the next. You knew he was for you all the way, and he treated everybody the same."
A die-hard respect usually follows the great coaches to their grave. Such was the case for Paul Ward.
Dan Morris is The Jackson Sun's interim sports editor. Reach him at 425-9756 or (800) 372-3922, ext. 259756 or by e-mail at dmorris@jacksonsun.com.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
"The Wind Blows Might Nigh..."
From: Carl R. Holladay
To: 'Scott Portis' ; 'Bobby Ward' ; 'Ward, Paul - 08'
Cc:
Sent: Tuesday, December 11, 2007 7:40 AM
Subject: RE: Coach Ward
Scotty et al.
Thanks for the stories about Coach Ward. I, too, remember him fondly.
I can identify with the Ray Chandler stories. Once, during recess, while we were playing baseball, I made some snide remark about him, not realizing the danger of doing so while he was holding a baseball bat in his hands. A few seconds later I felt it in the pit of my stomach. I thought I’d never breathe again. Needless to say, I watched my words from then on.
One memory from football practice. Coach Ward was working with the linemen over on the far side of Pudor Field. It was one of those drills where the linemen broke up into two groups, one carried the ball, the other tackled, the action taking place between two blocking dummies Coach had placed to create the lane. No sooner had the ball been given to me than I realized that I was facing Warren Blankenship, with nowhere to go but straight ahead. I figured that my young life was over. At Coach’s signal, I forged ahead, but
For some reason, I remember Coach Ward’s clipboard. Never have I seen a clipboard put to so many good uses. Of course, it held his plays and other papers for practice. But I think I recall it being used to hammer lazy players on the helmet or bust them in the seat of the pants, and who knows what else? Others can correct me here if my memory is playing tricks on me.
Others are right in recalling how Coach Ward, Mr. Pudor, and others taught us discipline and teamwork. As for the latter, one lesson I still remember, and have recalled over the years, is how he taught us to kick-off. Walking up and down the field, he told each of us on the kicking team to look to the other end of the field and imagine a lane 5-10 yards wide that we were responsible for. “If everybody protects his lane and lets nothing through, they can’t run a kickoff back,” he’d say, or words to that effect. Over the years, I’ve sometimes reflected on that as a pretty good defensive strategy in other situations.
He was also a superb teacher. I still have vivid memories of how he taught us to block and tackle. He not only taught us, but he also showed us. He’d get down in position, with his calf muscles bulging, show us how to spring off the line, and actually block the other player without holding him. To this day, I still can’t believe they allow NFL linemen such free use of their hands. As for tackling, he insisted on putting your shoulder into the runner’s gut, reaching for his legs, clasping your hands, and putting him on his back. Football for him, at least in my brief experience, was a game of basics, and he taught them well.
Not that I ever mastered either of these, but Ricky Lankford, Buster Barger, and I seemed to have done something right as we held down the left side of the defensive line our senior year. We lost our first game (to
One more story. There was the time, I think it was against Bruceton, but it may have been in practice, when we were lined up for a play, and one of the defensive linemen sounded off about how he was going to pulverize us, and without missing a beat, Guy Fowler was heard to exclaim, “The wind blows might nigh every night!”
I’m sure some of the details are fuzzy and have probably been created out of the fog of memory. Others are welcome to correct me.
Regards,
Carl
Carl R. Holladay
Charles Howard Candler Professsor of New Testament
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