Without a Word_ How a Boy's Unspoken Love Changed Everything - Jill Kelly [98]
The head coach is the leader of the team, and my dad has been the best head coach a family could ever have. This is a man who taught us that dedication carries its own reward. This was a tough lesson to learn, especially during those few times when I was hiding at the neighbors’ to avoid one of his daily passing drills for me at lunch and after school.
It has been written throughout my career that toughness is my trademark. Growing up with five brothers, you learn at an early age that you need to be tough to survive. Not only on the field, but at the dinner table.
Of course, we might have thought we were tough, but the toughest Kelly of them all was my mother, Alice, or “St. Alice,” as we always called her. She did everything from putting food on our personal training table to scrubbing all our uniforms, including those of many of our teammates. On more than one occasion she told people: “I wouldn’t trade my boys for the world, but there were days where I would have gladly given them away.” My mother had tremendous pride in all of her sons, and I know she is smiling down on all of us today.
My oldest brother, Pat, taught me about hard work and has always provided wisdom and advice. Pat has written me letters since my college days. They congratulated me in times of victory and inspired me in times of trouble. He has always been the real field general amongst the Kelly brothers.
My brother Ed was the original quarterback of the family. Quiet and smart… and something he’s never known… he’s a part of the reason I chose to be a quarterback.
I could always count on my brother Ray to be my honest critic. He always told it the way it was, never sugarcoating anything. Thanks, Ray. I appreciate your straightforward comments more than you’ll ever know.
My twin brothers, Danny and Kevin, have physically been with me every step of the way. Danny has been my most trusted confidant. To this day, I trust no one like I trust Danny.
Kevin is without a doubt my biggest fan. After signing autographs for Kevin for years, I finally asked one day, “Who are these for, Kevin?” He smiled and said, “They’re for me, bro.”
I learned the importance of extended family as early as Midget football, where men like Art Delano, Gary Faust, Jim Martin, and Jimmy King were more than coaches. They gave me the guidance that went well beyond the football field. I will never forget Art Delano sitting with me in his personal sauna, his Volkswagen Beetle, with the windows rolled up on a hot summer day after we had just run alongside the railroad tracks and the Allegheny River in order for me to make playing weight. While my friends rode mini-bikes and went swimming, this is where I learned all about sacrifice.
When you grow up in the hotbed of high school football, you live the game as much as you play it. And believe me, the East Brady Bulldogs ate, slept, and drank football. Terry Henry, our coach, was a jack-of-all-trades. He was our trainer, equipment manager, teacher, counselor, and father all rolled into one for not only myself and my brothers, but teammates like Jimmy Hiles, Kevin Morrow, and Paul DeBacco. And, Terry, the fact that you remain close to our family to this day speaks volumes. You will always be a key ingredient to why I made it as far as I did.
Coach Howard Schnellenberger’s arrival to the University of Miami was a godsend for me. He was a drill sergeant, a hard-nosed coach—something that every cocky high school athlete needed. Especially me. And with him came Earl Morrall, who taught me how to read defenses.
After injuring my shoulder in my senior year, I was told that I would never play again. But our trainer, Mike O’Shea, and my best friend and college roommate, Mark Rush, had different thoughts. They worked me through countless hours of rehab to get me healthy enough