At a TD Club meeting many years before his death, Coach Paul "Bear" Bryant
told the following story, which was typical of the way he operated.
I had just been named the new head coach at Alabama and was off in my old
car down in South Alabama recruiting a prospect who was supposed to have
been a pretty good player and I was 'havin' trouble finding the place.
Getting hungry I spied an old cinder block building with a small sign out
front that simply said "Restaurant."
I pull up, go in and every head in the place turns to stare at me. Seems
I'm the only white 'fella' in the place. But the food smelled good.
So I skip a table and go up to a cement bar and sit. A big ole man in a tee
shirt and cap comes over and says, "What do you need?" I told him I needed
lunch and what did they have today?
He says, "You probably won't like it here, today we're having chitlins,
collared greens and black eyed peas with cornbread. I'll bet you don't even
know what chitlins are, do you?"
I looked him square in the eye and said, "I'm from Arkansas , I've probably
eaten a mile of them. Sounds like I'm in the right place." They all smiled
as he left to serve me up a big plate.
When he comes back he says, "You ain't from around here then?"
And I explain I'm the new football coach up in Tuscaloosa at the University
and I'm here to find whatever that boy's name was and he says, yeah I've
heard of him, he's suppose d to be pretty good. And he gives me directions
to the school so I can meet him and his coach. As I'm paying up to leave, I
remember my manners and leave a tip, not too big to be flashy, but a good
one and he told me lunch was on him, but I told him for a lunch that good, I
felt I should pay.
The big man asked me if I had a photograph or something he could hang up to
show I'd been there. I was so new that I didn't have any yet. It really
wasn't that big a thing back then to be asked for, but I took a napkin and
wrote his name and address on it and told him I'd get him one.
I met the kid I was 'lookin' for later that afternoon and I don't remember
his name, but do remember I didn't think much of him when I met him. I had
wasted a day, or so I thought.
When I got back to Tuscaloosa late that night, I took that napkin from my
shirt pocket and put it under my keys so I wouldn't forget it. Heck, back
then I was excited that anybody would want a picture of me. And the next day
we found a picture and I wrote on it, "Thanks for the best lunch I've ever
had. Paul Bear Bryant."
Now let's go a whole 'buncha' years down the road. Now we have black
players at Alabama and I'm back down in that part of the country scouting an
offensive lineman we sure needed. Well, he's got two friends going to
Auburn and he tells me he's got his heart set on Auburn too, so I leave
empty handed and go on to see some others while I'm down there.
Two days later, I'm in my office in Tuscaloosa and the phone rings and it's
this kid who just turned me down, and he says, "Coach, do you still want me
at Alabama?" And I said, "Yes I sure do." And he says okay, he'll come. And
I say, "Well son, what changed your mind?" And he said, "When my grandpa
found out that I had a chance to play for you and said no, he pitched a fit
and told me I wasn't going nowhere but Alabama , and wasn't playing for
nobody but you. He thinks a lot of you and has ever since y'all met."
Well, I didn't know his granddad from Adam's housecat so I asked him who his
granddaddy was and he said, "You probly don't remember him, but you ate in
his restaurant your first year at Alabama and you sent him a picture that
he's had hung in that place ever since. That picture's his pride and joy and
he still tells everybody about the day that Bear Bryant came in and had
chitlins with him. My grandpa said that when you left there, he never
expected you to remember him or to send him that picture, but you kept your
word to him and to Grandpa, that's everything. He said you could teach me
more than football and I had to play for a man like you, so I guess I'm
going to."
I was floored. But I learned that the lessons my mama taught me were always
right. It don't cost nuthin' to be nice. It don't cost 'nuthin' to do the
right thing most of the time, and it costs a lot to lose your good name by
breakin' your word to someone. When I went back to sign that boy, I looked
up his Grandpa and he's still running that place, but it looks a lot better
now; and he didn't have chitlins that day, but he had some ribs that 'wou
lda' made Dreamland proud and I made sure I posed for a lot of pictures; and
don't think I didn't leave some new ones for him, too, along with a signed
football. I made it clear to all my assistants to keep this story and these
lessons in mind when they're out on the road. And if you remember anything
else from me, remember this - It really doesn't cost anything to be nice,
and the rewards can be unimaginable.
Coach Bryant was in the presence of these few gentlemen for only minutes,
and he defined himself for life, to these gentlemen, as a nice man.
Regardless of our profession, we do define ourselves by how we treat others,
and how we behave in the presence of others, and most of the time, we have
only minutes or seconds to leave a lasting impression - we can be rude,
crude, arrogant, cantankerous, or we can be nice. Nice is always a better
choice.
I like what Stephen Grellet, French/American religious leader (1773-1855)
said, "I expect to pass through the world but once. Any good therefore that
I can do, or any kindness I can show to any creature, let me do it now. Let
me not defer it, for I shall not pass this way again."
