Warner provides 'old coach' with lasting memory

Loyal as they are, even my two daughters have tired of hearing the story.

"We know, we know, Dad. Enough already," Grace, 7, and Bridget, 4, will say in unison, rolling their eyes in exaggeration as I remind them of my fame.

My wife, who's heard it, oh, about a million times, wisely excuses herself to walk the dog whenever I begin to replay my tale. But I will never tire of sharing it with folks, for years to come and especially around the Super Bowl.

You see, I coached Kurt Warner back in Iowa, when he was in grade school. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. I was blessed to have coached the Arizona Cardinals' star quarterback when he was a budding, teenage athlete in my hometown of Cedar Rapids, long before he had thrown for more than 28,000 yards and 180-plus touchdowns during his distinguished, 11-year career in the NFL.

Oh, how I love to tell this story.

Some 25 years ago, when I worked at The Cedar Rapids Gazette newspaper, a fellow sports writer and I were volunteer coaches for the All Saints School's 8th grade boys' basketball team. My buddy and colleague, J.R. Ogden, was head coach. I was his deputy assistant. Kurt Warner was our best player.

Kurt was sort of a post/forward on a pretty good team. He didn't act like a star might. He didn't hog the ball or demand it, like some top players are wont to do. He simply worked hard, kept quiet for the most part and went about his business of scoring and rebounding in workmanlike fashion. Once in a while, I would have to pull him aside and instruct him, saying something like, "Kurt, just take it to the basket. They can't stop you. This is your time, baby!" He'd nod his head, almost politely, and do just that. He led us to either the regular season league title or the postseason tournament championship or both. He was well liked by his teammates and, handsome as he is now, more so by the girls his age.

I also remember coaching my Kids League baseball teams against Warner. He was the best player on the field most games, a pitcher and a shortstop, but modest and unassuming. Kurt was just a nice, athletic kid, nothing more or less, who was well-mannered and showed a genuine respect for his coaches and elders with an open ear.

Later, as Warner grew up, I covered some of his high school football games when he played at Cedar Rapids Regis. He was good, not great by any means, and always a willing, cooperative and gracious interviewee for me.

Kurt headed off to college at the University of Northern Iowa and I took a job in Dixon, Ill., before settling in Chicago and eventually Glenview. But I followed his story, from fifth-year senior starter and Gateway Conference Player of the Year with the Panthers, to training camp in Green Bay with the Packers, to his years with the Iowa Barnstormers of the Arena Football League and back to stocking shelves at a Hy-Vee grocery store in Cedar Falls, Iowa. I'd heard he was playing ball in NFL Europe, in Amsterdam, and then saw in the transactions agate that the St. Louis Rams had signed him as their third quarterback.

Like a lot of people who knew him, I watched in near disbelief as Warner emerged in 1999 as the Rams' starter, going on to win the NFL's Most Valuable Player award, a Super Bowl championship and game MVP and yet another league MVP award - all in a whirlwind span of three seasons for goodness sakes. His success as a professional football player blew a lot of other people's minds.

I was fortunate to meet up with Warner several years ago, if only for a few minutes. Kurt and his wife Brenda were appearing as guest speakers during the regular weekend of spiritual services at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington. They spoke about Kurt's rise to NFL stardom, but mostly they talked about their faith. As the Warners were leaving the stage, I caught Kurt's eye from my seat and reintroduced myself.

Warner broke into a big, friendly grin and called out to me, "Chip! Do you live up here now?"

"Yeah, I married a Chicago girl, Kurt," I replied. "J.R. (Ogden) was in my wedding."

With that, Kurt broke free from a pack of church representatives to come closer. He reached over the security barrier and shook my hand.

"Are you still coaching?" Kurt asked.

I told him I'd paid my dues and retired. He laughed, we talked some more and someone watching asked if we wanted our picture taken together. Kurt and I both stood tall and this guy snapped a photo, providing me with both a keepsake and the thrill of a lifetime knowing Kurt had remembered an old coach. He left me with a warm pat on the back while being ushered off and that's the last I've seen of him other than on TV.

OK, so Warner probably won't ask me to present him at Canton, Ohio, where one day he likely will be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. But there is at least one fan of mine who thinks I'm worthy.

After watching Kurt lead the underdog Cardinals in back-to-back playoff wins over Carolina and Philadelphia, and strongly encouraging my girls to watch nearly every replay of every pass Kurt completed two weeks in a row, my Grace was impressed.

"Dad, you were a good coach."

I could only smile.

Chip Marshall is a freelance writer from Glenview and a student at DePaul University.