Free Dan Rooney by Dan Rooney

football shoes. I lined up wearing my regular school clothes: leather-soled oxfords, slacks, dress shirt, and a tie.
    The whistle blew and I took off like a rocket, tie whipping back over my shoulder. When I crossed the finish line, I looked around and found myself all alone—I’d outrun the field.

    This success kind of went to my head, so much so that the other guys gave me a hard time, “You really think you’re a big shot, beating everybody, don’t you!”
    Their taunts bothered me, and that night I had a hard time sleeping. But the next day when I got to school everything was fine, especially when I discovered a complete uniform, from helmet to cleats, laid out for me in the locker room. Coach Lesniak had named me the starting halfback of the North Catholic Trojans’ freshman squad. I’ve never been so proud of a uniform—not since the Rooney 98s—white jersey with a black number 11 emblazoned on the back, and white pants with black, high-top shoes. The first time I saw myself in the mirror decked out in full pads and uniform, I thought I was something, a real football player.
    After just a few weeks, Joe Thomas, head coach of the junior varsity team, noticed me on the freshman squad. At our first practice, Thomas instructed the freshmen, talked about X’s and O’s, and shot questions at us. “Okay, who knows what the strong safety does?”
    I raised my hand and told him, “He protects deep against the pass and covers short passes over the middle as well.” I then proceeded to explain the assignments for every position on the board: safeties, linebackers, linemen, detailing their every move. Thomas was so impressed he moved me up to the JV team the next day. In no time I became the starting halfback on the JV squad, running sweeps out of the single-wing and Wing-T formations.
    With Coach Thomas’s guidance I developed as a player and a person. He taught me a disciplined work ethic, as well as the importance of integrity and character. Just as Mother and Dad had, Thomas cultivated my leadership skills. He made me responsible for team equipment and schedules, and showed me how to lead without being overbearing. He said you can be at the top of your game without being cocky or acting like a big shot. His own life was a lesson in humility.
    Everyone at North Catholic knew that Thomas was the most talented
coach at the school, yet the administration withheld from him the honor of being head football coach. Instead of giving him the football job, they put him in charge of the basketball program. This was a bitter pill for Joe, but he handled it with dignity and grace. To his credit, he brought home three state titles in basketball, even though football was his real passion. There was some sort of power struggle within the administration that I was too young to comprehend. They didn’t want to pay Joe the salary a head football coach commanded and couldn’t agree on a contract.
    I remember the day he came to me and said he was leaving the school to accept a job at Chaminade, a Marianist brothers Catholic high school in New York. I was crushed and couldn’t understand how North Catholic could let such a great coach and teacher get away. It didn’t make any sense to quibble about a few dollars when you had a guy like Joe, who knew what it took to win and at the same time could inspire, build character, and change lives.
    Actually, Coach Thomas was not much older than the students he was teaching. Like my uncle Tom, he had served in the Pacific during World War II, and he loafed with the high school players like one of the boys. But he mentored us both on and off the field, and next to my own parents, had the most profound influence on me. On the field, he encouraged me to develop my throwing skills to complement my running game. He told me I had real potential as a quarterback and got me as much playing time as he could. When the freshman squad went