John Buchanan: Remembering 16 mm film and those gold helmets

Robert Allen Yankey & my Dad, 10-10-1969. Photo by Danville Advocate Messenger, Bill Vaught

John Buchanan: Remembering 16 mm film and those gold helmets

Of all the coaches who have influenced me in my lifetime, without a doubt the coach that had the biggest impact was never my coach, but he is my dad. My dad is John Buchanan and I continue to look up to him and want to be like him just as I did when I was a little guy.

My first memories of my dad coaching football are from his days at Lafayette in Lexington where he was an assistant. When I was four years old he became the head coach at Boyle County in Danville. One of my strongest memories was being with him in the equipment room one summer night when he passed out gear to his new team.

In 1967 and 1968, Boyle County did not win a football game. In 1969, my dad’s first season, the Rebels finished 9-1-1. My two strongest memories of that season are going to Greensburg for the first game and win of the season and the victory over Danville at Centre College’s Farris Stadium. To this day I carry a piece of the 16 mm film in my billfold and every now and then will put the old film on the projector and watch it like we did on Saturdays and Sundays on the living room wall.

In 1970 the Rebels were ranked among the top teams in Class A. But on September 25th, football was not real important anymore.  That morning, the day after the Rebels had won at Mercer County, their quarterback, Robert Allen Yankey, drowned in an accident on his family's farm. Only five years old, I was overwhelmed by the sadness and the tragedy of losing Robert Allen. He was a very good quarterback, a great person and very much like a son to my dad. I will always remember those gold helmets with the number “11” on all of them the remainder of the season -- like we wear our numbers on our helmet.

We all have events in our life that we never understand or can make sense of. For me, this one is at the top of the list.

The next three years at Boyle were tough ones. In 1974, my dad became the head football coach at Mercer County. His first two seasons were the first winning seasons in the history of the school.

In watching my dad all those years, on the sidelines, at practice, in the locker room, etc., I saw over and over again that people come first over winning or personal gain. He enjoyed football, but his players were the most important to him and he put their well being first every time.  When I would be concerned about recruiting kids to our football program, he would always tell me to treat the kids in my program right, and the rest will take care of itself. He is not what people think of as a “player’s coach," but without a doubt that is what drove him -- his players and what was best for them. Whenever he would talk about his friends and other coaches that he admired and respected, he always talked about how much that coach loved his kids and would do anything they could to help them.

The other thing about my dad that stands out is his toughness. I have seen him go through so many tough times and be successful in very tough situations. I’ve seen him keep going when his heart was broken beyond words. As I look back on it now, I understand better than ever that his toughness was driven by his love for his family and players, and his trust in God.

One of his best stories and life lessons was when he told me that he considered staying at Boyle, just to teach and coach the wrestling team when he was forced to resign as football coach. I asked him, “How would you walk in that building and look at those people every day?"

His response was, “They have to look at me every day.”

I’ve used that story many times to encourage my friends in coaching who felt like their back was to the wall and no one was on their side, and it has helped them to stay tough and strong when they felt like the walls were caving in.

When you grow up a coach's son, your dad’s words are always spinning between your ears, especially on a Friday night. His beliefs and philosophy are ingrained in you. The best example was in the 2003 semifinals at Highlands on the goal line. The play call was “Slot Left Sam, Dive Check.” As the slot went in motion, I realized Chris Lofton would be wide open on a slant route. But I immediately heard my dad’s voice in my head: “If you can’t run the ball in on the goal line, you don’t deserve to win!”

So, we still planned to run the ball. But, we got lucky -- we jumped offside. Now it is on the 7-yard line. I am off the hook. We called the slant route, and it went for a touchdown.  After the game, my dad says, “Why didn’t you throw the slant to Chris on the goal line -- he was wide open the play before?” I told him it was his fault and just shook my head as I shared with him what was going through my mind.

But that event got my attention. Twenty years from now when my kids hear my voice in their head, what will I be saying? I hope it will be worth hearing.