Eric Horton, in the image above was a great workmate, always smiling, pushing office politics off his back like feathers (when I know they weighed him down like a tonne of bricks).
We enjoyed chatting about life because we had no interest in feeding the office rumour mill, seeking subjects with deeper meaning to us, like a good college education.
Eric graduated from Alabama A&M University, earning a business degree.
He had hoped to move into a management position at work but couldn’t get his boss/bosses to see him as more than the shipping and receiving guy, a classic tale of being so good at your job you appear indispensable and irreplaceable, meaning a less likely candidate for promotion.
I sympathised with Eric.
He invited my wife and me to a football game at his alma mater in Normal, Alabama, north of Huntsville.
When we arrived, my wife and I clearly saw we were attending an event at a not only traditionally but also predominantly black university.
Of the thousands of people parking their vehicles in the carparks surrounding the football stadium, we appeared to be the only white couple.
We followed Eric’s directions to the alumni/booster club tent and were warmly greeted (Eric was either the head of the alumni association or in charge of the alumni tent functions).
We enjoyed meeting the people Eric wanted us to know better.
Of course, we garnered plenty of looks, frequently asked if we were the parents of the one star white player on the football team.
As we mingled and discussed the rising cost of tuition, fundraising challenges and other university-related topics, Eric walked up with a man who radiated confidence.
“Rick, I’d like to introduce you to Ron Cooper.”
I reached out and shook hands with him. “Nice to meet you. You have a son on the team?”
Ron laughed. He turned to Eric. “He’s a funny man.” He turned back to me. “No, around here they call me ‘Coach Coop.'”
We chit chatted for a few minutes about A&M’s prospect for victory in the game that was due to start in an hour.
Ron looked at his watch. “Well, I hate to cut this short but I’ve got to meet with the team before the game. Thanks for coming. Hope Eric convinces you to think about helping out the university. We’d love to have you here.”
As he walked away, I stuttered to Eric. “Th…that’s Coach Cooper? Former Louisville head coach?”
“Yeah, who did you think he was?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a head coach appear at an alumni function just before a game started.”
Eric laughed and patted me on the back. “We’re very relaxed here at A&M, aren’t we?”
“Uh-huh. Quite impressive.”
“We’re lucky to have him. You like the setup?”
I looked around the tent, observing the well-dressed alumni and student-athlete parents, happy to see that although Coach Coop figured the team would lose the game that day, he had his eye on the improving maturity of his players in the midst of a humbling loss, which he had impressed upon all of us gathered to drink iced tea and munch in pregame hors d’oeuvres.
“Yes, I do. I wish more people had this opportunity.”
“Well, don’t let me forget to ask you to help us out! I’ve got to stay and help coordinate the cleanup…”
“You want us to help, like right now?”
“Haha. That’s not what I meant. No, you guys go enjoy the game. I’ve got tickets reserved for you in the players’ family section. You wanna go on and get your seats. The entrance of the band is a big part of the game, especially on a day like this.”
“That certain we’ll lose?”
“How about I say that a lot of people will leave after the halftime show for this game?”
“Got it.”
“I’ve got family obligations and will miss the game. See ya at work on Monday. Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”
“Are you kidding. This is the best hospitality tent I’ve ever been to. Meeting the head coach?! Man, that’s awesome.”
“Every home game, Rick. Anytime you want, you come back!”
We shook hands and patted each other on the back.
When my wife and I got to our seats, we recognized many people from the alumni tent. Those who didn’t know us asked which of the two or three white boys on the team was our son, trying to find a common bond in casual conversation. I impressed some of the players’ fathers when I told them Eric was a friend of mine. “You know Coach Coop personally, then?”
Eric was right. The A&M band was as much part of the event as the football game.
I’m glad that marching bands feature prominently (I marched in bands in junior high, high school and university music programs).
College football games are a microcosm of society, reflective of the educational institutions to which they belong.
I’m glad Eric enriched our friendship that day…we knew guys in our office who only saw others by skin colour and wouldn’t give one or the other of us the time of day, let alone attending events together outside work, wishing away connections like ours.
We only noticed skin colour when those guys were around making noise. Together, Eric and I were unaware of superficial differences, just two people trying to make our lives more fulfilling, our jobs less stressful and our families more successful.
Free to be Me 