In the shadow of ‘Bama, the Bear
STARKVILLE, Miss. – Sylvester Croom had no idea the words his father spoke to Paul “Bear” Bryant would define his life.
He only knew that the legendary coach of his favorite team was asking the Rev. Sylvester Croom Sr. to let him play for Alabama – something impossible even a year earlier for a poor black preacher’s son in the deeply divided South.
Don’t give him nothing because he’s black, the elder Croom told Bryant. Don’t take nothing away from him because he’s black.
“That was his belief because in his mind, his whole idea about integration was simply this: All I want you to do is open the door and let me walk in. I’ll do the rest,” the younger Croom said. “Just don’t say I can’t. Just give me a chance.”
More than 35 years later, the Mississippi State coach has made the most of that chance as he prepares to lead the Bulldogs into Saturday’s Liberty Bowl against Central Florida. The appearance marks the 25th anniversary of Bryant’s last game, a tense 21-15 win over Illinois.
From All-America center to the first black coach in the Southeastern Conference and now 2007 SEC coach of the year, the 53-year-old Croom has charted a path so unlikely for any black boy growing up in civil rights era Tuscaloosa, Ala., that he never bothered to dream it.
Then Bryant entered his life, making him one of the first five black players at Alabama, and hiring him as an assistant after that.
Croom’s thoughts are always on Bryant, but even more so as he celebrates a breakthrough 7-5 season and the Bulldogs’ first bowl since 2000. His players are used to hearing Croom channel Bryant’s wisdom and words.
“That’s who we feel like we’re playing for sometimes,” said tailback Anthony Dixon, the subject of a few of Croom’s growling Bear-like speeches. “We feel like we know what some of them Alabama players felt like when they were playing for Bear Bryant back in the day. We really do. There’s a lot of it in him.”
Bryant, who won 323 games, was an exceptional coaching model. Croom said he was a tremendous organizer and motivator who wasn’t afraid of change.
“When he talked to the team I wrote down a lot of the things,” Croom said. “I still read them. I have incorporated a lot of it into the program. Even some of the old recruiting material they’ve got, hey, I take them and put them on our stationery. I’m not ashamed.”
Croom spent decades as an assistant at Alabama and in the NFL, coaching the likes of Barry Sanders and gaining the respect needed to become a head coach. Yet those who knew Croom at Alabama never thought he’d be a coach.
Most thought he’d become a preacher, like his father.
Looking back, though, Croom’s former roommate, Mike Washington, said the coach already had most of the traits he uses so successfully today.
“He was different,” said Washington, an SEC official who remains close friends with Croom. “I always thought it was because he was the child of a preacher. You’re different when you’re the son of a Baptist Methodist preacher in Alabama. He was serious in his work and he was serious on the field.”