Carrying the ‘Big D’ spirit in us all
Part 2
I’m still thinking about Big D.
We won’t stop doing so any time soon, I hope. It’s a tragedy to lose him, perhaps it would be a worse one to forget him.
It is a sad day when a coach has to write the tribute for one of his players as we are here. When the time comes, the old players are supposed to gather around the coach with his family all there and maybe one or two of them say a few words and tell stories of those good old days. That is the way we all hope it will be.
But Big D would be the first to tell us that we cannot sing of God’s glory and power without accepting His decisions, respecting His sovereignty. This truth, however, does not minimize the grief that comes when a young man such as this leaves us far too soon. Nor does it mean that a loving wife or devoted family cannot question with the Lord why such things have to be – read the psalms or the book of Job, you'll see those men of God did that very thing.
We all wanted to see where Big D’s life and singing and creativity and huge spirit would take him. The best answer I know to give is that the young man’s spirit will live on for generations to come, through his life and through his spirit. And we are thankful that he realized so many dreams even in less than thirty years.
My friend’s leaving has caused all of us – his wife Brecia, the Eubank family and all of the extended family, his classmates and baseball and basketball teammates, friends from around the world, and fans – to tuck Big D down in our hearts and remember him, and remember how fragile this phenomenon we call life really is. I’ve traveled that memory lane a great deal as I’ve lay in bed in the night thinking of the road that young men such as him traveled with you. How long I will ponder these things – and share here in our special meeting place here – I do not know.
A great legacy Big D leaves us, including the phenomenon that he broke down racial and color barriers with his beautiful voice and spirit, as we pondered last week. That theme seemed to meet me at the front door on the Saturday morning of his memorial as hundreds began gathering to celebrate a young life. Even before I saw my big former ballplayers Trev Conner and Big Earl that morning and sat with them while we honored Big D, I had walked into the church foray to see, first thing, another of Big D’s teammates, Brendan Porter, standing to sign the book as you come in. With him was his sister and iconic Red Oak athlete, Hunter, along with mom Hope, with whom we worked and coached alongside every year I was a Hawk. Hope was hired the same year I was – 1998 – and we all became family – she and her family, Big Earl and Trev – and Rasheed, Melvin, Caleb, and the Fernandez, Hawkins, and Brady brothers, along with two fellas named Dexter and Andrew who drove me crazy as some of you know, but they're still my boys; and Hebert, Boson, Officer Lindsey, Coach Burns, Coach Garcia, ‘Little Man’ Nick, and, of course, Big D and the Eubanks … all part of a family whose color was maroon and white. Thanks to all of you, too, whose name we have not given here but equally a part of this brotherhood.
And, of course, we must note Coach Foster, the man with whom I sat beside on that bench for so long (though we didn't actually do much sitting). He and I spoke on the phone before leaving for the service on that Saturday, sharing some of those memories just as we had shared life as Hawks for a decade and a half – all of us part of the Big D family, for he represented it better than any. Coach Foster is one of the best men I've ever met.
These relationships go deep, even beyond a single city or school. I received a call from another branch of the great basketball fraternity later that Saturday – Randy Weisinger, one of the top coaches in Texas – from our old North Shore days of the 80s and 90s. Coach Weisinger would’ve loved Big D as the young man represented him and his values, too, as did the ballplayers from the North Shore years. Thoughts of them come to mind, too, as my mind scrolls back through the decades—former Houston Rocket and now Judge Joe Stephens, Darrel Bogan (the best inbounder and deep-thrower we ever had), and names I hollered out across that Mustang basketball floor a hundred times – Sonny, Lionel, Mark, and Reggie Marks with his a big smile and deadly mid-range jumper, along with a young man named Kerol McGusty whom Coach Weisinger always teasingly called Kerol Bowen. He may have had the sweetest shot ever on display at Mustang nation. Again, there are so many more to name.
Different branches, but the same family, the same brotherhood.
I guess all of the coaches and all of you players who stepped on the floor for us coaches kind of adopted each other the way the Eubanks did for Big D.
Today we continue to pause together to give thanks to Big D for reminding us of these great truths. Oh, young man, you left us far too soon, but you left an indelible mark in just a few years. Everyone you met loved you, even many who never saw your tremendous spirit up close. You were a big man in stature, yes, but so much bigger in heart, in hope, in faith.
We are part of a special family, one that goes far beyond even the basketball world with its players, fans, and coaches. It is that spirit within us that makes us one, a spirit you represent better than any. As we walk away, we'll all carry a bit of that Big D spirit in us, too.
(steven.bowen@redoakisd.org)
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