118 | Part 7: Coach Dave Fipp Reflects on Coach Dick Tomey's Enduring Legacy and Leadership

This is Becoming Undone. I've always loved football. For as long as I can remember, I've loved everything about the game. The uniforms, the helmet. If you've been following along in this series, you heard me gush on and on about my prized year's rowbook, Rawlings Dallas Cowboys Dome that I used to spear into the back of my couch. But more than just that, football cards, football sticker books, in first and second grade my friend group and I made not one but two exquisite, hand-drawn, hand-colored Dallas Cowboys quote unquote books that we intended to give to the players on the team when we finally got our chance to be players there. So if you're scoring at home, that is a completely delusional, downright unhinged affection for a game that in my harsh reality, I'd never actually be allowed to play competitively. Damn, it's depressing when you look at it like that. But I swear it isn't depressing at all. Because despite never getting to strap up and live out my gridiron dreams first hand, the good Lord still allowed me to spend some of the best years of my life as part of teams supporting players and coaches who did. So with all that said, I will say that even though I've seen behind the scenes of college and even a couple of pro teams, and I know that many football movies are overdramatized, downright laughable Hollywood depictions of the truth, I still generally love football movies too. My personal favorite is Friday Night Lights. The movie is great. The book is even better. And as an author myself, my first book was an attempt at historical nonfiction of a minor league baseball team with a discussion of the social and economic backdrop where they played in the same vein as H.G. Bissinger's classic work of the storied Permian Panthers and that Midland Odessa community. But I digress. The emotion in the movie still gets me to this day. Day. To this day. There's a scene near the end that I rewatch every year around graduation. Come to think of it, not long from right now. As a professor in athletic training programs for pretty much two decades, I've been blessed to serve one graduating class after the next. Typically, it's a two year program and the students all take their classes together. I get to know them personally. It really is like a team. And that's why this scene in particular has always stood out. Before it was a landman, Billy Bob Thornton played the role of Permian head football coach Gary Gaines, based on the real life former coach. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll remember it. Ordinarily, I'd drop a clip right here, but it's completely devoid of dialogue, which makes it all the more powerful. I'll put the link in the show description and also on the web page, but you can't just listen to it. You got to watch it. For years, I watched it. Usually moved either to a coordinator tears at the thought of yet another cohort of graduates leaving my nest. For years, all I saw was just coach Gaines staring at this big depth chart board behind his desk. It's December. The season is over on the board. Last names of his players, the seniors denoted by a special brushed aluminum name plate, those seniors are still hanging on. Beneath them, the underclassmen with black and white badges, a way third turn. One by one with the music building, an expressionless coach gains, plucks each seniors name off, examines tag briefly, and then drops it into a box, along with some other VHS game tapes and some other stuff. And just like that, a career years in the creating, an identity all wrapped up in being part of a story and football tradition is suddenly and officially over in their place, a fresh batch of new seniors take the place. And that's cool. Super exciting. I get it. The game goes on. The program moves on. But for so many that transition from a place of honor and prominence on that board to a little more than a memory in a dusty box is jarring. So many guests on this show have talked about how their identities were so intertwined with sports that when it ultimately was pulled away by injury or graduation or just the passage of time, it nearly killed them. But as I watched the clip for like the millionth time just now, the first time ever I saw what else was going on. That's coach Gaines and his staff made preparations for the next season, which side note they actually did win a state championship, by the way. The season's over. The stats are recorded. The careers are finished. Three seniors meet up outside Radle Stadium, presumably for one last time. Where Mr. Heade. Mr. Lights. Me too. Stay low boys. Keep those feet moving. And Shavo, be perfect. You be perfect. And maybe this cuts me even a little bit deeper today because my sons are freshmen in college this year. Last season he was a senior high school baseball player. It's been less than a year that he and his teammates did much the same outside or on their baseball field. But in just a few moments, those three encouraged one another with the lessons they'd learned from years of playing together. Coach catchphrases intended for a football game or a practice, suddenly taken on a whole new meaning in life after football. I don't know if this scene actually happened or not. More than likely it was away a screenplay writer saw putting a tidy bow on a great story that needed a conclusion. But that aside, regardless as I thought back over the years, I now realize how many teams I've been a part of where a similar scene is likely unfolded. In December of 2000, in the taping area of the athletic training room in McCale Center in Tucson, Arizona, the closest thing I ever had to this experience happened for me right then, right there. Coach told me he had just resigned or been fired or told the resign or he would be fired, whatever. We're really not going to get into that here. I was all but certain that that meant the rest of the staff would be gone pretty soon too. I was on the medical staff for one thing and a GA for another. I might get reassigned to another sport, but I was pretty sure that my job was safe if I wanted it. But two of my friends weren't. Over the course of the season, I'd become close with our offensive GA, Brent Brennan, and our defensive special teams GA, Dave Phipp. Not as close as they were to one another, mind you, but close nonetheless. I knew what life was like for an athletic training GA, but it only heard bits and pieces of what it was like for coaching staff grad assistants. On the downside, incredibly long hours of grunt work, film cut-ups, grading, all the other stuff. Brent and Dave would talk about being at McHale until two or three in the mornings and nights after games, getting ready for the next week's opponent. Coach Tommy's replacement was officially hired and announced to the press conference in Arizona Stadium on December 4th, 2000. Well, that almost certainly meant he'd bring a new staff with him. Naively, I had assumed that as GA's, my friends Brent and Dave would probably get to keep their jobs. They should have had the option anyhow. They were both working on master's degrees. Both had given up a lot in order to be a part of Coach Tommy's staff. More than typical GA's anyhow. Brent had spent 98 as a GA at Hawaii, 99 as a GA at Washington, before coming to Tucson. Phipp, on the other hand, had been a full-time special teams coordinator and secondary coach at Holy Cross before basically taking a pay cut and on paper a step back in order to work with the Wildcats staff. The next day, I saw them both for the first time since the press conference. At the time, our athletic training room had a Gatorade dispenser near the wet room and as such, anyone could pretty much come in anytime they wanted and get a cold cup of orange or red Gatorade anytime the doors were open. A lot of office buildings have water coolers, but Kale had a Gatorade machine. So when I saw the two of them there sipping on their green Gatorade cups, I didn't think much about it. Well, what do you think? I asked in their general direction. My eyes got real big as I sighed deeply, indicating I was not so convinced about the new guy. Quote, one of these days, one of these days it is all gonna come together. End quote, Phipp said. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but I feel like I got the sentiment. Play here, a stop there, a first down there. That entire season could have gone in an entirely different direction at half a dozen moments that didn't go our way, gone the other direction. Brent nodded in agreement. And not to overhollywood this moment, but I'm gonna overanalyze its death and just say, just like on Friday Night Lights, this was three guys that cared about each other a bunch, recognizing that although the Lord had blessed us with a literal season together, that path had ended. Just like with every team or every staff or every family, time will eventually tear you apart. For me, it was too soon. I'd been Arizona football adjacent for two years and only had less than a year working day in and day out with the team. For Brent, he'd come to know the staff from a distance as his brother Brad played for the team, and I'd have to assume it was too soon for him too. But for Dave, he'd played for Coach, tell me. He'd clawed his way into a starting role as a player, gone on to become a full-time college coach, and came back to learn more. And just like that scene from Friday Night Lights, we all went on to dot, dot, dot. For Fip, that going on to other things would eventually be a career in the NFL, including a Super Bowl victory in 2018 with the Philadelphia Eagles. For Brent, it would be ascending the college ranks, where he'd be named the 2020 Mountain West Coach of the Year, ultimately being handed the reins of that very same Wildcat program himself in 2024. They both soared to remarkable heights, and sadly, and I'm jealous about this, I'm the only one of us who doesn't yet have a Wikipedia page, but I know I've been fortunate to live a pretty darn meaningful life of my own too. You know, it's surreal for me to think, those three young guys, so full of energy and optimism, with so much living left ahead, but in that moment, standing together, sipping Gatorade, thinking about what the days and weeks and months and years ahead, I'd hold for us. But I know one thing. To a man, we were thankful. We were grateful. Each in our own ways, we were there, and we'd each been able to watch and learn and serve, Coach Dick Tomi. If you've stuck around this long, I guess it's worth mentioning that I'm Toby Brooks. These days, I wear a few different hats, Professor, Speaker, Podcaster, but back in the late 90s and early 2000s, I was just a wet-behind-the-ears grad assistant athletic trainer at the University of Arizona, and little did I know it, but I'd be part of Coach Dick Tomi's final season with the Cats in 2000. The numbers might give you a glimpse into Coach's career, but I don't think they ever really captured what made him special. You see, if you ask the people who played for him, Coach beside him, or worked under him, like I did, they'll tell you. He shaped them in ways they can't be measured on a stat sheet. Coach always used to say that football isn't complicated. People are. And even to this day, I know he's right. Matter of fact, I'd argue that that's true of just about anyone at work. The job can be straightforward, but it's guiding the people that can test you daily. And if you ask me, nobody did it better than Coach Dick Tomi. Sadly, we lost Coach Tomi to cancer in 2019, but lately I've found myself thinking about him more and more. As I've grown in my career, I keep wondering, how can I lead people like he did? How can I serve people the way he did? How can I love people the way he did? Even today, I was struck by the thought of a former student, and having done this show, I thought, I'm not just going to think about this student. I'm going to reach out to them, like Coach Tomi did. In a pre-cell phone era, he kept in touch with everyone. There's no excuse for me. I can text, I can message, I can do that right away. It leaves me with this resounding question. What was his secret? How did he get people to buy him, follow him, carry his lessons forward in their own lives, long after they hung up their pads or closed their office door for the last time? Because in the profession of college football, where wins and losses tend to scream the loudest, Coach Tomi stood out for something that reached far beyond the game, and it's far more enduring. Relationships. It's those questions that won't leave me alone. So I decided to do something about it. I started tracking down his former players, his former staff, his family, people who knew him best. Together, we've been unpacking the moments that defined him, the values he passed along, and the lasting mark he made on the game, and on everyone he led. Over these past several episodes, we've traced through those early years in Indiana, his breakthrough as a first-time head coach at Hawaii, his run at Arizona, and upcoming episodes will take a look at his career after U of A San Jose State and even his so-called retirement years, where he basically never stopped mentoring, coaching, and loving people. It's been a journey of rediscovering a legend, while learning how to become better leaders in our own right. You, my friend, are tuned in to becoming undone. And this, well, this is the life, lessons, and legacy of Coach Dick Tomi, a Toei Brooks passion project. Welcome back. Joining me now is Dave Phipp, who has served as Special Teams Coordinator for the Detroit Lions since 2021. Prior to that, Dave has had stops with the Philadelphia Eagles, Miami Dolphins, San Francisco 49ers, and he worked with Coach Tomi at San Jose State, and in a kind of an Arizona deep staff transplant at Cal Poly with Rich Ellison. So early in his career, he left Holy Cross to be a graduate assistant. That's where our paths cross. So Dave, thanks so much for joining me today. Yeah, no, I appreciate it. I'd do anything for Coach Tomi, obviously, what he's done for me in my career is incredible. So the opportunity to be here and talk about him with you is awesome. That's cool. Well, no story about how Coach Tomi touches the life is complete without kind of knowing the background first. And your story in particular is really inspirational because you weren't a five star coming out of high school. You chose to go to Arizona as a walk on and there were things about it. So let's start off with your background. Tell me about your growing up in addition to football. I know you were a highly successful pole balter. You had options to go other places and you chose to walk on at Arizona. Talk me through that decision making process. Yeah, I grew up in San Diego. I had a tremendous high school coach. I was during high school kind of went back and forth whether I wanted to pole ball or played football. I almost stopped playing football my senior year. My high school coach who's kind of influential. He told me, hey, man, you could be a really good football player. And I was shocked because I wasn't up to that point. It wasn't very good. Anyways, and so then I ended up playing football my senior year and just had a great time. And then I wanted to go on and play football in college. And at that point, nobody would take me. And so this coach who's trying to give me to go to Northern Arizona anywhere talking to all these coaches and no one would take me. But the good news for me is he had a long line of safeties that he had sent to the University of Arizona. And he had gone there and played there. And one of them was a graduate assistant at the time, Jeff Hammersmith. And so he had talked to Coach Hammersmith and Coach Hammersmith gave me the opportunity to walk on there. And I had known that there was kind of a history of players that had gone there, walked on and had a bunch of success. And they were able to play and compete and contribute. And they were, you know, they were looked at favorably, not like, hey, forget these guys are just practice squad guys or whatnot. But I knew I would have a real opportunity once I got there. And so that's really what made the decision to go to Arizona. Yeah. And I think for me, one of the things that stood out, I remember the Scow Bowls where it was celebrated and there was just a real blue collar, gritty, tough, working class kind of culture that Coach Tommy had created there. So for you, obviously had maybe some personal connections there, but what was the value added once you got there? And how did that align with your personal philosophies as a player? Yeah, well, there was one thing, there was one quote, there's a handful of quotes, but one quote that I remember and still really used to this day myself is if you always would say what you do speaks a lot, I can't hear what you say. And she meant that with every player, every coach, every person who was around, and it really didn't matter how you got there to him. The only thing that mattered is what she did while you were there and with the opportunity that you had. And he looked at everyone the same, whether it was highly retreated player, whether it was the last guy on the roster. And I think part of his, his general approach, I mean, he was really ahead of the curve with how he treated people. And it wasn't just about football, but it was about football and life and how he can make you a better person. And because the players knew that he had the best interest of the person at heart, they gave everything they had for him. Yeah, that's a great segue into my next question. There's an iconic photo of Coach in the locker room and you're in the background and you're just transfixed with what he's saying. I've got a digital copy of it saved on my hard drive as I was doing some research. And in that moment, it's like, you know, I don't know what he's saying. I don't know what game it is, but you are just, you're locked in. And I've seen the flip side of that where you were the coach and there's a student athlete locked in. So it's like this, this progression of coaching. So at what point in your development as an athlete, did coaching start to become maybe something you wanted to do with your life? Well, it really started in high school for me because my high school coach, he really changed my life. I'm also, and just, you know, I didn't know if I really wanted to play football and then playing football my senior year. And then it was like, oh man, you know, this game is unbelievable. I love it. I want to play in college. And then I know I vividly remember jogging out on the game field, our first game at the University of Arizona and Arizona stadium. It's a home game. I was a freshman. I was a walk on. I wasn't going to play. I was red-shirting, but he's still allowed us all to dress up and go run out there. And when I took the field that first game, I was like, man, this is incredible. I want to be a part of football really for the rest of my life is kind of the first time that I really said that. And then, and then my time at Arizona was just amazing just because the quality of the people that were coaching there. So Dwana Keena, Rich Ellerson, Larry McDuff, all these coaches that I was, you know, around and being coached by. They were not only incredible coaches, but they're incredible people. And they also took the philosophy of coach, telling me just having the best interest of the player of mine and a very personal. And they treated you the right way. They coach you hard, but they had a lot of respect for you and what you were doing, both on the field and off. And that's really, I mean, the culmination of my time there, four or five years, four and a half years for me. Really by the end of it, it was like, oh, this is a no brainer. I definitely want to coach after this. I don't know if you'll recall this, but, but I do. And when Brent was named as the head coach of Arizona earlier in the year, I kind of welled up. I remembered a moment we were standing right outside of John Wolf's office. And I can't recall if Brent said it, I think you said it. And the three of us were standing there. And I'm almost positive you said one of these days it's going to happen. The team's going to come together and we're going to do it. And in a moment, I had the revelation like Brent's the head coach. Dave is a highly sought after coach in the NFL. Like that happened. You spoke that into, into existence. But at that stage of everyone's career, we're all three graduate assistants. You and Brent, GA's cutting up film, working 80 hours a week. I was on the medical side doing my thing. But I remember you came to U of A and had been a full-time coach at Holy Cross. And in some respects, people would look at that and be like, well, why are you taking a step backwards to become a GA when you've already been a full-time? Talk me through that decision on what went into you stepping out of a full-time role. What made it worth it to go back to Tucson as a GA or under coach? Yeah, it is a great question because at the time there were a bunch of people that are like, what are you doing? And I was making good money, especially for back then. I mean, even for me today, I would take it. But yeah, I just knew that I felt like, you know, I had been a part of Arizona. I left it. I went out on my own. And that's actually something that Coastal only had kind of pushed me to do. The truth is, I was heartbroken when I had to leave because he's like, you know, I wanted to be a GA at Arizona the next year after I'd finished playing. And he said, no, you know, you got to go out. You got to coach. You got to work. You got to get out there on your own. You got to start recruiting. And anywhere you can do that, whether it's small college, you know, any place you can find that'll take you. That's what you need to go do. And so I ended up going to Holy Cross and I started off as restricted earnings. I was making $6,000 a year. And we had to pay $100 back for the room that I lived in. But anyway, it ended up being great. And it was a great experience for me. I worked there two years. My second year, they hired me on full time. So I was making a bunch more. And having the time of my life, really, there's some great memories there because I mean, I was like the same age as Gazzo. I was coaching maybe a year older or whatever. But they were great guys. They were academic, but they loved playing football. And we had that common bond in place there. And then after two years, I was like, okay, this is great. But a lot of these coaches and whatnot that I see in this league and at this level, some of them, you know, that's kind of their end goal is just being in a place like that, which is I appreciate and respect those people for doing that. But that wasn't mine. Mine was like to go higher. And, you know, the thrill that I had in Arizona, I want to get back and pack 12, pack 10, 12 now or guns. So now I guess, but what to get back to that level where as a higher caliber game, I'm with something I wanted to do. And then really to get back around those coaches that I played for, because I knew those guys were all going places and great coaches and would really end up providing me with opportunities later on down the road. You've been following along. This is something we've heard from multiple coaches who've been on the show. Most recently in part six with Dino Babers, Coach Babers recounted how he was told by other coaches that if he really wanted to earn a spot on Coach Tommy staff, he needed to go somewhere else first to prove not only to coach, but to himself that he had the skills and the ability to make it on his own. I thought has had me thinking about Coach Tommy's leadership philosophy, certainly allowing someone like Coach Babers or Coach Fipp or any number of guys who'd proven their abilities and work ethic and commitment to the culture. It would seem like a no brainer. Well, I didn't know Dave as a student athlete. I've talked to a lot of people who did. He was what you call a glue guy, a tireless worker who laid it all on the line day in and day out. No ego, no entitlement, just effort. So then while on earth would a coach like Dick Tommy all but forbid someone with that mentality from sticking around to start his coaching career. After all, it would be easier for Coach Tommy in a lot of ways. It would be easier for Dave to and there my friend is your answer. Coach wasn't interested in the easy path for himself or for anybody else. He wanted the path that would bring the most growth and the lessons his people would learn outside the program during those seasons away. Would yield fruit to I've seen it firsthand. An organization that only promotes from within doesn't take long to get stagnant. There's a kind of operational and professional inbreeding that occurs. It gets stale and over time it usually suffers. But under coaches model, that doesn't happen. You launch your culture guys out into the world. They get the benefit of seasoning and wisdom and proving to themselves and others that they aren't some charity case that was promoted as a favor. They have their own skills and they grow in the process. And then when they come back, the culture part is already there. It was probably there when they left the first time, but they come back with fresh perspective, new skills, grounded confidence and a gratitude to get to be back in the fold once again. For many, it was a welcome change and step in their coaching journey. For Dave on paper, many would say it was a professional step in the wrong direction, going from full time assistant to part time GA. But that was a price he was willing to pay in order to be back among the coaches he so deeply respected. And eventually it paid off. So that's really why I ended up going back there. I think it's important to recognize that a lot of times we can be in the midst of something. What we experience as a kid, we don't know that that's not typical for every other kid, whether it's your mom's home cooking or whatever that is. So you've been immersed in the Arizona Wildcat program built. It's the heartbeat of Dick Tomey. For four and a half years. What did you learn in that two years at Holy Cross in retrospect about your experiences in Tucson? What did being out of that show you that maybe continuing to be in it wouldn't have? Yeah, I think anytime you get outside of it, then you learn like you say really what it was all about. When you grow up in a system, you don't really appreciate all of it or you don't really see it all or know that it's not normal. You think that's normal and then you remove yourself from that. So for me, removing myself for those two years at Holy Cross, I mean, one thing was like, you learn really the quality of coaches that coach Tommy assembled underneath him and the quality of people and that his way was different than all the other ways and what not. Now, fortunately for me, the guy that I work for at Holy Cross, Dan Allen, he's also a very personal person and cared about the players. Similarity coach Tommy. So there was some similarities there, but the longer I coached and all the stops that I've had along the way. Now you realize just really what a great person coach Tommy was and is and how much he cared about the player. Yeah. Well, we don't have the benefit of hindsight in the moment. So you go to U of A and you spend 2000 in what would be coaches last season at U of A and that season didn't go as any of us had planned. I think that's the understatement maybe. What was next for you and what role did coach play in those seasons moving forward and what role did he play in your career after that? Yeah, so it's not funny. I mean, we're sitting there and they end up hiring John McVick at Arizona and I was a graduate assistant on defense and then Brent, he was a graduate assistant on offense. And McVick brought us both in there and he's meeting with us and he's like, hey, you know, I'm not sure what I'm going to do here, but I know that I'm bringing in this defensive graduate assistant. And so I'm like, yeah, well, I'm out, you know, and they just like, but I might shuffle you guys around and this and that anyway. And so I was devastated because I was back home. I loved the place. You know, I had left there to go to Holy Cross really because coach told me said, hey, you got to get out and go. I come back and I was thrilled to death to be back there. And then all of a sudden less than a year later, you know, you're out. And it ended up being the best thing though, because Rich Ellerson took the job like the next day or that night, he actually ended up accepting the Cal Poly job. And I had a younger brother who was actually going to school there at the time. And so I ended up going to Cal Poly and that really having the time of my life because Brent ended up joining us there. We had a bunch of great young coaches. Everybody was really getting their first shot at coaching. And it was great stuff. A bunch of those guys are still coaching today. And so really ended up being the best thing that could ever happen to me because spending another year or two at Arizona wasn't going to help so much. You know, you needed to get out and go do it. So I was able to go out and go do it and start coaching. And then fortunately for me, then what happened is I ended up circling back and getting back together with coach. And coach told me the sound was that stick and then having a chance to work from there, which was incredible. Yeah, the purpose and I may edit this out, but the purpose of this is not to throw shade at John McEvac. It's to honor coach Tommy, but I feel like they were so diametrically opposed. Like coach told me was just the working class, pretty tough. I remember him. One of my favorite stories of him is we were at coach East and he had slipped and fallen at the pool and hit his head. And they were going to interview him for the local news there. And so he's got blood like running down. He's got blood on his camp coach East T shirt and Wendell Neal's equipment managers like coach, we need to get you a new shirt. And he's like, oh, hell no, like I'm going to be with blood on me. Right. And then you get John McEvac, who's like a country club polished CEO kind. And it's like, yeah, two guys have the same title and be so dramatically different. It was just, it was kind of jolting for me to see that. So we don't have the benefit of hindsight and knowing when is our last season with a particular coach. Life has a way of taking us different directions. So I know you spend some time with the 49ers and coach was with the 49ers. What do you think you've taken away from those years with him as a colleague that time has helped kind of solidify for you? Like, this is what this guy meant to me. Yeah, I think, I mean, I know I've said this once throughout the conversation here, but how much he cared about the player. And when I say the player, I'm in the person, not just the guy on the field who's working. But I think really to me, that is the biggest thing that I could take away from him. And he was incredible that way. And the truth is, like, in a, like coaching the National Football League today, the one thing that you have to do is you have to embrace the player, not only as an athlete on the field, but also as a person. And I think that the old school, hard ass, hard nose, in your face style of coaching, which I'm not saying is bad, but it was a different era and the kids are different now, Bays and the guys who coached are different. They really don't tolerate or accept that. And there's a better way to go about it. And the truth is, it's really what Coach Stoneman was doing a long time ago, which is why I said at the beginning, I mean, he really was in front of the curve in terms of his approach to handling and managing the student athlete when I was playing for him at Arizona. And it's really what most of these coaches are trying to get to today. Yeah. And to compliment you, I've seen you firsthand and in the years that have passed, I've seen other coaches take what on paper appears to be a similar approach. You're a fiery coach. There's no doubt about that. So if you're fiery with somebody, but you don't have a relationship with them, they're just going to shut you off. They're not interested in what this hothead has to say. But if you've cultivated a relationship with them and you know buttons to push and what things to stay away from, that's just leadership 101. And I feel like I got a masterclass in it, even though I wasn't a coach, just seeing him work and seeing him build that into his coaching staff was really transformational for me. And I feel like a lot of folks that would say that, I mean, whether they were administrative support folks in the office, athletic trainers, equipment managers, everybody that had the ability to see coach in that environment got to see that leadership starts with people. Yeah. Yeah, no doubt about it. What would you say is coach's legacy? I mean, it wasn't, it didn't end the way anybody would have wanted in 2000. And in the year since they've, I went to campus a few months ago and there's a plaque that honors him. What's his legacy at U of A? I don't know. I mean, I just know this. The one thing that I can say, I'm not great with the history and the legacy and all that, but the one thing I can say, and this to me as a coach would be the most important thing to me. And it's, I think it's what coaches strive for, or I think the really good ones do, but it's, it's that you made a difference in the guys that you coached lives and it's not the difference on the field at the end of the day that really matters most to you. I mean, in the moment, you want to win the games and the contests and the battles and whatnot. But ultimately as a coach, what you really want is to change people's lives. And I know for a fact that he's changed. I mean, a countless, I mean, it's a huge number. Way more than all ever do really, you know, and it's really what I strive for any coach strives for. And, you know, the number of lives he's changed and the impact he made and the number of people he's made that impact on is incredible. And like I said, the most in the most important way off the field, really not on it. And now he's got a chance to, I mean, he's changed the world. So. And, and his, his impact to me goes beyond the players he coached first hand and seeing this new generation and seeing you speak into lives in a way that he spoke into yours. His fingerprints are kind of all over, you know, careers in that way. So I'll end with this. What's maybe your favorite coach told me story? If you were asked, you know, hey, give me an example of what this guy means to you or maybe your best recollection of him. What would you say? Yeah, um, God, I don't, I don't necessarily have like one incredible story. There's just so many great memories, but, but there are a few things that he would say that I would be like, man, I love this. And but then there's some of them are funny, but they're all good. But, you know, like one of those gets your face up, you know, he'd be talking to the team at the end of a practice and guys are tired and maybe we did this thing after. And it was like your head was down, you were sucking gas, you were just trying to catch your breath and he's trying to tell you something and you know, I mean, he wanted your attention and he wanted your focus and your eyes on him. And it's a little thing, but it's like, yeah, when you, someone's talking to you, look at him, you know, um, so that would be one of those things. And then there's one other like one other phrase that to me is like, man, this critical in coaching or teaching a really parenting anything. And it's, he would always say, I love you so much. I'm going to tell you the truth. The interview is winding down. We are almost done. And I was tempted to just let you go. But this one right here is too good not to reflect on. This is one of those things I can remember him saying more than once, but honestly, I'd forgotten. I'm thankful they brought it up because it's a powerful leadership and relationship sentiment. It's easy to sugarcoat things as a professor over the years. I've been tempted to grade papers with minimal comments, even when a student did poorly. That's the easy path. But if I do that, I rob them of learning. I short change them of a chance to get better. On the other hand, if we're committed to our people, if we care about them enough, if we love them so much, then we simply can't take the easy path to really love someone so much that we tell them the truth is the best possible way for them to grow. It's been said that we can't fix problems we aren't aware of. And in the moment that truth can sting. Only the deranged or sadistic among us take pleasure in the pain of correction. But if we trust that our leader loves us and is coming at us from a place of correction, connection, growth, then we can actually start to crave that feedback. And within that truth comes an opportunity to flourish. And he would say like, Hey, you can ask me anything, but if you come into my office, just know that you're going to get the truth. And it was great because he would tell you the truth. And that's really all anybody wants is the truth. And you can handle the good things and the bad things, but as long as you know you're getting the truth and you can look back, then you're going to respect that guy forever. And I know that like in the National Football League today, it's the only thing the players care about. If they know you're telling the truth, they could like it, they could hate it. It really doesn't matter to them. They handle that stuff no problem. And I think kids are the same way. Kids have no problem handling the hard stuff. As long as they know it's the truth and five years from now, they look back and they say, Hey, you know what? Guy always told me the truth and they respect that. And that's one thing he always did. So that tell you the truth and what you do speak so loud. I can't hear what you say. Those things to me are just two things that I'll take forever. Well, Dave, thanks so much for agreeing to stop in. I really appreciate your insights. I look forward to pulling this episode together and I'm a Lions fan now. Not even going to lie, man. I've been watching and pulling for you. I think I was in the airport when the playoff game was going on. And I remember Dave's there. So best of luck on what I expect to be a great season. And if there's ever anything I can do, man, I owe you. Yeah, I appreciate it. I appreciate taking the time to put this whole time together. It'll be awesome. I look forward to seeing the end result and then our head coach at the Lions is about as stiff. No, as I didn't know your story from high school in a Holy Cross. Lots of times we have bad experiences that teaches what not to do, but man, it sounds like you've worked with some of the best that are examples of what to do. That's awesome. Yeah, I've been fortunate that way. That's the one great thing about this sport. It attracts a lot of great people and they all have a bunch of good inside of them. What makes a coach unforgettable? For Dave Fit, it wasn't a playbook or a pipeline. It wasn't about status or salary. It was about the man who looked him in the eye and said, I love you so much. I'm going to tell you the truth. That was coach Dick Tellmey. So it wasn't some slogan or sideline sound bite. It was the way he lived. It was the culture he built and it was the standard he handed down to every man who wore the colors, held the whistle or stood beside him in the trenches. Today, Dave reminded us that what you do speaks so loudly. You can drown out whatever else you try to say. And if you've ever had the privilege of knowing a coach like that or serving under someone like that, you know exactly what he means. It's been more than two decades since Dave, Brent Brennan and I stood, sipping Gatorade in the old Mikhail training room, trying to make sense of what had just happened to our team. We were young. We were uncertain. But somehow we knew we had been part of something sacred. Coach Tellmey was the difference. Because when you talk to the men coach led, you realize it wasn't just stuff. It was soul. It was legacy. It was love. Thanks to coach Fipper joining me and continuing to pay that legacy forward with each special teams huddle every half time adjustment and every truth told in love. From the mailbag this week, I am ever so thankful for some words of encouragement from former U of A recruiting coordinator, former Toledo head coach and now University of Kansas football general manager, Rob Ianello. Coach writes, quote, Toby, I've enjoyed listening to your episodes on coach. Tell me terrific stuff. Coach, I am thankful and grateful for you. Thanks for reaching out. One more update if you've been following along. After gushing about my beloved Dallas Cowboys helmet from around 1982, I texted my mom to see if they still had it. At one point, I know it was stored safely in their attic in a dusty box. However, it would appear that along with other key pieces of my childhood and adolescent history, like my San Jose shark starter jersey, my Charlotte Hornet starter jacket, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I wanted back, they chucked it all in the trash. Without even asking if I wanted it. I guess that's my bad, but expecting them to store it all these years indefinitely. But come on, man. Come on, man. I mean, come on, man. Let a guy know before you just start pitching my treasured artifacts. Undeterred, I found a similar old Cowboys I went on eBay today and I have ordered it. And way back in my Larry Johnson mini doc on this show, I shared that I found and bought a new Hornet starter jacket as well. It won't surprise you to hear that I'm in the market for a shark's jersey, too. Enough of that, though. Next time on Becoming Undone, we'll sit down with Coach's son Rich Tomy, whose work with the Positive Coaching Alliance is ensuring that the values his dad lived by continue shaping the next generation of athletes, coaches, and leaders. After that, I've got current U of A head coach and the other member of that now infamous, in my mind at least, Gatorade conversation, Coach Brent Brennan. This and more coming up on Becoming Undone. If you're listening now and want to be on the show or know someone who does, please let me know. And hey, if you've made it this far, do me another favor, share this episode with someone else who was touched by Coach Tomy. Whether they knew him personally or just learned from someone who did, invite them to come along for the journey. We are not done, friend. Not even close. This is Becoming Undone, the life, lessons, and legacy of Dick Tomy, a Toby Brooks passion project. Becoming Undone is a nitripe creative production written and produced by me, Toby Brooks. Follow along on Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn at Becoming Undone pod, or me at Toby J Brooks. Check out my link TRIOT at linktr.ee backslash Toby J Brooks. Subscribe and leave a review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeart Radio, or wherever you're listening right now. Till next time, be purposeful, be relentless, love somebody enough to tell them the truth, and keep getting better. Becoming Undone