Brian's Eulogy For His Dad

Play From The Heart
By Brian Logan

Our family would like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate the life of a tremendous man, a tremendous husband, a tremendous coach, and a tremendous dad. My most vivid memories of my dad were of him roaming the sidelines, with a cigar in his mouth, barking instructions. My dad had a passion for coaching, but his true passion was making a difference in the life of every child that played for him. He loved sports, coaching gave him the vehicle to impact many young lives, thousands of lives. While my dad was drilling us with the fundamentals of that particular sport, what we didn’t realize at such a young age, he was forming the foundations of our lives. Through winning and losing peewee games, he showed us how to have dignity and respect. He taught us to shake hands in defeat, become better from our losses, and to be humble as a winner. Hotdogging was never allowed. My dad had an uncanny ability to reach in every kid and get the best out of that kid. The main thing he showed at such a young age was no matter how big the obstacle, if you played from the heart, you can overcome almost anything and accomplish big things. All St. Paul teams possessed this mindset. We were mentally tough and played from the heart. We exemplified our coaches, Dad and Coach Wittman. Because of these attributes, we didn’t lose many games and won games we had no business being on the field with the opposing team. With all the successes and wins, if my dad was here today, he would tell you, it is not about the victories on the field. It is all about the kids,… all about the kids,… all about the victories off the field. It was his goal to not only make each child a better player, but a better person, from the first time my dad laid his eyes on them, to the time he was through coaching them. It was very important to him that St Paul’s was well represented. I can remember one fall driving out to the Kiln to play Hancock 6th graders. When we walked toward the field, we noticed some of the opposing players driving up in cars and trucks. The kids had side burns, mustaches and, they were huge. Well, as we would quickly find out, this was Hancock’s middle school team, 6-8 grades. My dad went over to the coach and told him we would not play against their 8th graders, but we will gladly play the 7th graders. The 7th graders were big, but no where near the size of the 8th graders. We were like, Dad, these guys are too big. He said, “son, they put their pants on the same way you do”. So if my dad thought we could do it, the team thought we could do it. After battling to a 0-0 game with two minutes left, we fumbled inside our ten yard line. The other coach who had been embarrassed by a younger, smaller team, to this point, suddenly sent his 8th grade unit onto the field to score. My dad was furious. We were all scared, but after we looked over to the sidelines, my dad was pumping his fist, dig in boys, he yelled, dig in and stay low. He believed in us, he knew we would give it our best shot. Four plays later, the 8th grade unit couldn’t penetrate our goal line and the half ended 0-0. My dad walked over, picked up his football, had a few choice words for the other coach and told us to load up, we were going home. My dad had proved his point, we left the field standing tall. I can also remember my 5th grade year we were playing the Pass Christian city champs, who also had several 7th graders, one by the name Gene Lang., who would later go on to play professional football. My dad told us not to be intimidated and to play from the heart. We led the whole game by 6 points, and late in the 4th quarter, Lang, the fastest kid on the field, broke a long run. It appeared he would take it in, but, out of nowhere, a kid by the name of Andy Waggoner, took off and ran Lang down inside the 10 yard line. We would hold on and beat them. For that moment, that play, Andy, had heard my dad’s teachings, play from the heart, it was probably playing over and over in his head as he ran down the fastest kid on the field. For that moment, Andy, was the fastest kid. We had taken on the traits of my dad, and played with the same passion that he coached with. We had overcome insurmountable odds. My dad exemplified this until his dying breathes. With him lying in his hospital bed, suffering from a severely broken hip, one they didn’t know if they could repair, suffering from pneumonia, fighting a staff infection, his kidneys completely shut down, two feet badly damaged from diabetes, he believed he could walk out of that hospital. Who could have doubted him. He had always battled back. We thought he would make it home. Sean and my mom walked into his hospital room one day to find my dad had put his blanket through the triangle dangling above his bed and he was trying to pull himself up, so he could get up and leave the hospital. He was determined, but God had a better plan.

I would like to take a moment to read a few messages that have been sent to my family regarding my dad.

Ric Oustalet wrote,”I am so sad to hear about the passing of Coach Logan. He was truly the example of a hero and role model for all of us who had the privilege of having in our lives. His dedication and patience with all of us at St. Paul’s was an illustration of how we should all work to make a positive impact on the lives of the kids in our communities. I know…see more than that, he was one of the first role models in my life and he will be missed. Since my dad was not living with me, Coach Logan, made sure to provide a supportive male authority figure in my life. Our loss is heaven’s gain….he probably has a rag tag group of kids doing the Oklahoma drill in heaven, getting ready for yet another undefeated season! God Bless you Coach Logan!”

Joey Rogers wrote, “He taught us how to be tough, to be disciplined, to have good sportsmanship, to be dedicated, to work hard and how to be a winner. He taught us the game of football. You will always be part of our life. Thanks Coach Henry Logan we will miss you!”

Larry Hopkins wrote,”Sorry to hear about your loss. I always associate him with the Pass ballpark. I remember the first time at the field and him yelling at you and Sean. He scared the hell out of me when I was a kid, but later learned it was more bark than bite. He really was a good coach.”

Well, Larry unfortunately there was a lot of bite to my dad. He would never touch another kid, just grab a face mask here or there. Whenever a kid was acting up to a point my dad wanted to strangle him, he would just whip me or Sean. We got a lot of whippings, but it had a calming effect on the players.

I believe God had noticed all my Dads good deeds on earth. I believe my dad had secretly made a pack with God. God had made packs in the past with people, he made one with Moses. He made one with Abraham. I don’t know for sure if this is true, but feel certain it is. I believed it happened something like this…..God came to my Dad a few years back and said, “Coach Logan, I need you. I need you to coach the lost souls of purgatory and get them to the next level”. My dad said, “ I am your humble servant, and would be honored to, if you will allow me 3 things.” God then said “Go on” Dad said, “ First, I need to make sure Marlene is out of the FEMA trailer and into her house. Secondly, I would like to see the Rockachaws win a football state championship, and thirdly, I would like to see the Saints to win a SuperBowl.” If you knew my Dad, he was a die-hard Saints fan. God responded, “The first one is easy, the second one will take a little work. But the third one, that one is going to need Divine Intervention.” If you saw the Minnesota game, there was definitely Divine Intervention. I thank you God for allowing my dad to witness it. All three made my Dad’s day and put immense enjoyment in my Dad’s final years.

Last year a prominent women’s basketball coach passed from a battle with breast cancer. Her name was Kay Yow, coach of North Carolina State. She left us with this saying that I think is fitting. “When Life Kicks You, just make sure it kicks you forward.” Well, Life has kicked my dad forward. God, you gotcha a good one. Dad, we love you, and you will be sorely missed.