Father of Former Hogs Chris and Will Gragg Taught Important Lesson
For most of my life, I have always thought that the whole “sports teaches life lessons” cliche’ was a bit overhyped.
However, in light of recent events, while I still believe parents provide the most potential inspiration for their children, and that any mentor who truly invests in a child can provide life lessons equal to or better than sports coaches, I concede there is room for sports to fill gaps that might not get filled elsewhere.
Anyone who has been a Razorback fan for any sort of time will recognize the Gragg surname. Chris Gragg has the distinction of not only being a highlight of the long line of legendary tight ends at Arkansas, but also a member of the famed Warren Lumberjack pipeline of SEC talent.
Fans will also remember his brother, Will, another talented tight end/wide receiver Razorback signee turned Pitt Panther who had to craft his skills in Dumas after a family move from Warren.
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But Razorback fans most likely don’t know is their father, Kelvin Gragg. He’s currently the superintendent at Dumas, but if you were a Lumberjack in the ‘90s, he was a no-nonsense football coach who tolerated little, while demanding everything.
He was a former college tennis player stuffed into the body of a WWE wrestler. While he had a soft side with a sharp sense of humor from time to time, he was not a man to be crossed. Not that our parents would have allowed us to address him with anything other than “Yes, sir!” or “No, sir!” but there was no way even the most rebellious child would have responded to him in any other manner.
The end of every hours long practice, regardless of weather conditions and how tough the practice might have been, concluded by lining up and running 20-40 wind sprints ranging from 30-60 yards. No matter how tired you were, your sprints were going to be actual sprints, and there was no option to slow down until you were well past the end line.
If a single player slowed up prior to the line, Coach Gragg would yell out that it didn’t count and would repeat the dreaded phrase “Do it right do it light. Do it wrong, do it long! Now back on the line!”
There were a few days where those sprints came with ease.
Usually the day before games a focus on special teams made for a lighter day, but more often than not, those last 10-15 sprints were mentally taxing.
Most days I came to practice on a piece of toast for breakfast and a tiny container of diced ham and shredded cheese most kids got with their salads, along with two packs of free crackers, for lunch to serve as fuel. My body screamed to stop as the sprints piled up, so my mind had to take over so I could put my head down and force my way through.
One night after a loss at Fordyce, Coach Gragg had us get off the bus, walk over to the dilapidated field behind the junior high, and run sprints until we got the point that we go hard all the way through to the very end no matter what.
It wasn’t until I started reflecting on all the things I had to push through in life to get to where I am today that I realized Coach Gragg is owed a great deal of credit. There is no doubt that my parents and grandparents are a true example of what it means to sacrifice and overcome while doing it the right way so the ball can be moved forward for our family line.
Coach Gragg just took those lessons and solidified them one sprint at a time.
I worked my way out of Warren. It wasn't easy to break the cycle, but I scratched and clawed with everything I had. It was a great place to grow up, but I didn’t want the future that awaited if I didn’t get out.
My path almost ended my first semester of college. My family did everything that could be asked and then some to give me the slightest chance at going to college, but that opportunity was going to rest solely on me. I had a full ride to the University of Central Arkansas, and the only way to not end up back in a tomato field or holding a chainsaw was to keep it.
At the end of my first year, the adjustment from high school to college put me in a position where I had to pull out a 100 on nearly every final I had coming up to keep my scholarship. I locked down my mind and pushed ahead, not sleeping for nearly a week as I spent every free moment I wasn't working studying.
As I walked up the stairs to my dorm room after that last exam, I remember going in and out of consciousness from exhaustion. It’s all kind of hazy, but, best I can remember, I woke up with my parents there scared for me for about the 100th time in my life.
One thing I know for sure is I came to with my scholarship intact and never came close to losing it again.
A few weeks later, I moved back to Warren for the summer. I could tell right away that if I stayed there any longer, I would be pulled back once again, so in the middle of the night, I called a friend to see if he’d contact his brother who managed a Wal-Mart in Conway and asked if he could help me with a job.
I packed up my stuff before the sun came up, interviewed soon after and never lived in Warren again.
During that time at Wal-Mart, I ended up homeless, but I was determined to stick it out all the way through. I found an abandoned trailer that had well water and slept on its floor on a Snoopy blanket a friend gave me. I used my last $20 to buy boxes of cereal that I stretched in small increments that I ate in a cup of water and took freezing cold showers.
I had no money for gas, so I worked overnights so I could rollerblade roughly three miles to work so I’d be less likely to get run over. It was hard, but I put my head down and pushed through to the end.
Eventually, I got on my feet and rented that trailer and fixed up as nice as I could to get by.
I can beat you down with story after story about how life gave me a challenge that seemed impossible, but I put my head down and found a way to push through.
When I messed up along the way, creating adversity for myself, I drew back on that night of sprints after the Fordyce game. It gave me the blueprint for facing consequences head-on, knowing that when I made up for my mistake, I would be better for it.
Time and again life has hit me with daunting moments I wouldn’t wish upon anyone else, but each time I used the mental toughness forged by Coach Gragg to push through to the finish every time no matter the obstacle.
There’s little doubt Coach Gragg is due his share of the credit.
So here’s to Coach Gragg.
Thank you for every sprint you put me through. For every time you yelled at me when you saw the slightest hint of wanting to stop in my eyes. It mattered.
And because you did it, I have been able to live a life that mattered.
Don't ever forget that.
