No, this title is not a typo.
Yes, the photo on the left is of Vince Lombardi, the famous football coach of the Green Bay Packers. And yes, I will be referring to Coach Lombardi in this blog. But the subject of this writing is Vince Lombardo, my grammar school coach and teacher who had as much influence on my life as any player Coach Lombardi coached.
A block and a half walk from my home in Pacific Palisades, California was Corpus Christi Parish and School, across the street from the Palisades Park. This configuration of school, church, and park formed the epicenter of my youth in the 1960‘s (I started in the K-8 school in 1960 at the age of 4 and left in 1969 at 13), and if I wasn’t home eating meals or sleeping I was probably in one of these 3 places.
My predictable (and womblike) environment got stirred a bit with the coming of 7th grade when the school started treating us as young adults--we actually started changing classrooms and moving from teacher to teacher for different subjects! But most importantly the start of my 7th grade year heralded the coming of Vince Lombardo, a dynamo of a coach and teacher who was going to Loyola Law School downtown and looking for a few extra bucks to afford school and marry his fiancee Linda.
Some might go through the motions in this transitory position but not Mr. Lombardo (which we respectfully called him)--he seemed to embrace just about everything about the school and us. With dark Italian features, large eyes, and a friendly smile, he was both intense and approachable; any incongruity was between his size (small) and force of personality (vast). He also had the gift of gab, a feature he used to complement, motivate, and assuage the ill at ease (say Mother Celine for example).
My first memories of The Coming of Vince were his work as coach, where he quickly got involved with the boy’s football, basketball, and baseball teams. Grammar school coaches in the sixties were usually glorified managers but Coach Lombardo was giving us sophisticated offenses and defenses and participating himself in practices as a quarterback or guard. With all this hands-on care and direction we quickly became successful in both our CYO league and play-off games, giving Corpus Christi a source of pride and us a sense of accomplishment.
For me personally growing up, sports was a salvation. A naturally shy kid whose insecurity was embellished by the fact I was a year younger than most of my classmates, I’ll never forget the day in 4th grade when I surprisingly won a class vs. class running race and seemed to simultaneously locate a sense of self. When Coach Lombardo embraced my sports abilities on these successful teams this self-esteem was renewed, along with a burgeoning school popularity.
Playing for a coach that believes in you can be heart candy for a young adolescent, and my hero worship for Mr. Lombardo knew few bounds. I also saw him as a father figure--my dad at that time was loving but often missing (physically and emotionally), and when Mr. Lombardo showed some attention it helped fill the vacuum.
Vince was also our history teacher, and he taught the subject like he coached sports, aggressively and enthusiastically. Beyond the facts were the narrative, him telling stories and stories about stories, often about American Presidents and other historical figures he liked. Tolstoy may have decried the great man theory of history but Mr Lombardo didn’t--his favorite president was James K. Polk, a man of action and “manifest destiny.” Agree, disagree, whatever; all of it was far more interesting than memorizing a bunch of dates.
Beyond the lessons learned from him as coach and teacher were the life lessons he taught to these young teenagers finding their way. You would find yourself watching him--how he treated his fiancee and other teachers, how reverent he was at Mass, how he dealt with complainers and deifiers (like me). And as you learned and gained respect for him you wanted him to respect you in return and most of all, like you.
Every school seems to have a Vince Lombardo, some transcendent teacher and coach who helps you find yourself and set your course. Thank God. And I thank God for Vince, my guy at my school, who has influenced my life in innumerable ways since he appeared like a comet during my 7th and 8th grade years. More than just the fact I majored in history in college and have been a college coach in tennis--my interests, my mannerisms, the way I deal with other men--all can be traced back to Mr. Lombardo at Corpus Christi.
He of course married Linda and started a family, and after influencing others for years at the school he left to start a successful law practice, with many of his clients those he had coached or taught. For several years after he kept in touch with his weekly basketball game on campus, where the vertically challenged Vince could be seen backing into the post and launching his Lombardo “2 Surprises Hook Shot,” the first being the shot wasn’t blocked and the second that it actually went in.
An old joke with Vince Lombardi was that his wife and he were in bed during a winter in Green Bay and she said “God, your feet are cold.” Of which he replied: “You can call me Vince.” Recently when my Therapist Supervisor asked me what image best described my relationship with God, I spontaneously answered “Coach,” meaning someone who both cared for you but also wanted you to do your best. I learned that from Vince Lombardo, who like the other Vince certainly wasn’t God but was a Messenger to young men like me when they needed it most.
Yes, the photo on the left is of Vince Lombardi, the famous football coach of the Green Bay Packers. And yes, I will be referring to Coach Lombardi in this blog. But the subject of this writing is Vince Lombardo, my grammar school coach and teacher who had as much influence on my life as any player Coach Lombardi coached.
A block and a half walk from my home in Pacific Palisades, California was Corpus Christi Parish and School, across the street from the Palisades Park. This configuration of school, church, and park formed the epicenter of my youth in the 1960‘s (I started in the K-8 school in 1960 at the age of 4 and left in 1969 at 13), and if I wasn’t home eating meals or sleeping I was probably in one of these 3 places.
My predictable (and womblike) environment got stirred a bit with the coming of 7th grade when the school started treating us as young adults--we actually started changing classrooms and moving from teacher to teacher for different subjects! But most importantly the start of my 7th grade year heralded the coming of Vince Lombardo, a dynamo of a coach and teacher who was going to Loyola Law School downtown and looking for a few extra bucks to afford school and marry his fiancee Linda.
Some might go through the motions in this transitory position but not Mr. Lombardo (which we respectfully called him)--he seemed to embrace just about everything about the school and us. With dark Italian features, large eyes, and a friendly smile, he was both intense and approachable; any incongruity was between his size (small) and force of personality (vast). He also had the gift of gab, a feature he used to complement, motivate, and assuage the ill at ease (say Mother Celine for example).
My first memories of The Coming of Vince were his work as coach, where he quickly got involved with the boy’s football, basketball, and baseball teams. Grammar school coaches in the sixties were usually glorified managers but Coach Lombardo was giving us sophisticated offenses and defenses and participating himself in practices as a quarterback or guard. With all this hands-on care and direction we quickly became successful in both our CYO league and play-off games, giving Corpus Christi a source of pride and us a sense of accomplishment.
For me personally growing up, sports was a salvation. A naturally shy kid whose insecurity was embellished by the fact I was a year younger than most of my classmates, I’ll never forget the day in 4th grade when I surprisingly won a class vs. class running race and seemed to simultaneously locate a sense of self. When Coach Lombardo embraced my sports abilities on these successful teams this self-esteem was renewed, along with a burgeoning school popularity.
Playing for a coach that believes in you can be heart candy for a young adolescent, and my hero worship for Mr. Lombardo knew few bounds. I also saw him as a father figure--my dad at that time was loving but often missing (physically and emotionally), and when Mr. Lombardo showed some attention it helped fill the vacuum.
Vince was also our history teacher, and he taught the subject like he coached sports, aggressively and enthusiastically. Beyond the facts were the narrative, him telling stories and stories about stories, often about American Presidents and other historical figures he liked. Tolstoy may have decried the great man theory of history but Mr Lombardo didn’t--his favorite president was James K. Polk, a man of action and “manifest destiny.” Agree, disagree, whatever; all of it was far more interesting than memorizing a bunch of dates.
Beyond the lessons learned from him as coach and teacher were the life lessons he taught to these young teenagers finding their way. You would find yourself watching him--how he treated his fiancee and other teachers, how reverent he was at Mass, how he dealt with complainers and deifiers (like me). And as you learned and gained respect for him you wanted him to respect you in return and most of all, like you.
Every school seems to have a Vince Lombardo, some transcendent teacher and coach who helps you find yourself and set your course. Thank God. And I thank God for Vince, my guy at my school, who has influenced my life in innumerable ways since he appeared like a comet during my 7th and 8th grade years. More than just the fact I majored in history in college and have been a college coach in tennis--my interests, my mannerisms, the way I deal with other men--all can be traced back to Mr. Lombardo at Corpus Christi.
He of course married Linda and started a family, and after influencing others for years at the school he left to start a successful law practice, with many of his clients those he had coached or taught. For several years after he kept in touch with his weekly basketball game on campus, where the vertically challenged Vince could be seen backing into the post and launching his Lombardo “2 Surprises Hook Shot,” the first being the shot wasn’t blocked and the second that it actually went in.
An old joke with Vince Lombardi was that his wife and he were in bed during a winter in Green Bay and she said “God, your feet are cold.” Of which he replied: “You can call me Vince.” Recently when my Therapist Supervisor asked me what image best described my relationship with God, I spontaneously answered “Coach,” meaning someone who both cared for you but also wanted you to do your best. I learned that from Vince Lombardo, who like the other Vince certainly wasn’t God but was a Messenger to young men like me when they needed it most.
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