Despite tragedy, the legacy of Bowden’s career and character shine through

By Charlie Barnes, Executive Director - Seminole Boosters

It’s not as easy as you think, being Bobby Bowden.

Of course, the trick is to make it look easy: the aw-shucks style, the ready smile and the effortless quip that disarms even the most deadpan sportswriter. Everything you see is real; he is exactly the man he appears to be. But just as exactly, you will never see anything other than what he wants you to see.

Bowden will tell you that his easy going style, his tendency to tell a quick joke, is the very thing that kept him from becoming head coach at Florida State in 1971 after the departure of Bill Peterson. Dr. Stan Marshall, president at the time, readily admits as much. He recalls choosing a man who projected a more serious presence, Larry Jones from LSU. Jones was initially popular, but his tenure was miserable. Ultimately, Dr. Marshall went back to Bowden in 1976 and brought him home.

Bowden’s bright nature is real, but what is also real is his iron control over just who you see emerging through that casual, folksy exterior. He was the last one to speak at the funeral in Fort Walton, just a day or so before the Miami game. Most of those addressing the mourners choked with emotion, but Bobby Bowden was uplifting, optimistic, reassuring; he even cracked a joke.

And yet how could a grandfather’s heart not break, standing in the pulpit looking down upon the sleeping face of his 15-year old namesake, Bowden Madden. The boy lay next to his father, a man who played for the Seminoles on Bowden’s early Orange Bowl teams and who married his youngest daughter.

To understand Bowden you must understand that he was born to be what he is. He was born to be in charge, born to win. Bear Bryant used to say about himself that he didn’t know so much about football, but he did know something about winning. Bowden is very much cut from the same cloth. His gift is his ability to lead a program to greatness, and to sustain that high level of performance for nearly 30 years. The leadership that is successful across decades of wrenching cultural upheaval and political change requires a very special understanding of people. It requires genius.

When Bowden took the reins at FSU, he not only saw what was possible, he also saw how to achieve it. He knew instinctively what to do, and he had the will to make it happen.

Genius is rare, probably because for it to bloom the unlikely convergence of a singular set of genes and exceptional good fortune is required. There may have been others born with gifts equal to those of Mozart or Shakespeare or Einstein, but the random circumstances of life and the contrariness of human nature conspire to eliminate nearly all of them.

Is Bowden a genius? We don’t know and we won’t know for awhile. But after his career is finished, we’ll be able to compare his accomplishments with those of his peers.

When Brad Scott left Florida State for South Carolina, I thought he was the definition of a “can’t miss” head coach. When he led the Gamecocks to their first nine-win season and gave them their first ever win in a bowl game, his status was confirmed. But Brad Scott couldn’t sustain his leadership of that program. Today he coaches the offensive line at Clemson.

It was unthinkable to me that Jimmy Johnson, our nemesis while at the University of Miami, would not succeed in leading any program to greatness under any circumstances. He had the drive and the ruthless ambition and the magic. But Jimmy Johnson failed as a replacement for Don Shula, and left the Miami Dolphins in a less stable position than he found them.

The beloved and revered Joe Paterno is close to completing 40 years as head coach of the Nittany Lions. Without question the program is his. The national championships in 1982 and 1986 are his, but the decline is also his. Even the most ardent Penn State supporter does not believe that there will be a return to glory under Joe Paterno, but nearly all believe Paterno has earned the right to stay as long as he wishes. I promise you – write this down – that unless he unexpectedly dies standing in his tower Bobby Bowden will not leave Florida State in decline.

There are those who blame Bowden for the “disappointing” post-Dynasty record of the last four years. Others believe that but for Bowden’s particular form of genius and his iron will amid a series of potentially catastrophic events, the Seminoles’ win-loss record might have been disastrous instead of merely far above average with a few conference championships and bowl wins thrown in.

Great American college football coaches seem to possess a very unique combination of personality traits. Bowden has them all.

He keeps his own counsel. That is, he trusts his inner voice first.

He is a solitary individual. Bowden is sociable — he mixes well and is genuinely personable. But at heart he is not social. He is comfortable alone.

Great coaches possess unusual insight and extraordinary vision. They can quickly identify and isolate a problem and move to solve it. And, they can articulate the most complex situations in the simplest of terms, enabling others to commit themselves to team goals.

They take each loss personally. To them, losing means they lost control of someone or something. Typically after a loss, a quarterback talks about the team; they win or lose as a team. But when a boxer loses, it is only because he was not good enough, strong enough, smart enough.

Bowden was a quarterback. But before he was a football player he was a boxer, and it is the boxer who directs his personality.

Griff Siegel says, “Warriors fight wars because that’s what warriors do. Similarly, successful coaches aren’t just motivated to win, they’re driven to win. They remember every play.”

Bowden’s genius is in his ability to adapt, to overcome, to maintain control of his surroundings. Early on, Bowden was known for his brilliant offensive mind, for his breathtaking instinct for calling just the right play at just the right time. But his real genius is in his vision of the far distance. He relies on his instinct to make changes, or to not make changes, and to see clearly what is possible and what must be done to sustain success across the years.

I suspect the real reason why some who possess genius genes cannot sustain success is because they aren’t strong enough to support the weight. They’re like a small car with an engine that’s too big. They’re overwhelmed. Don’t be fooled by Bowden’s easy going demeanor. He is strong enough and tough enough to handle the power, and the burden that goes with it.

Part of his genius is his ability to show you only what he wants to show and no more. But once in awhile, even the most iron willed genius bends a little under the crush of life’s most egregious burden.

Bobby Bowden and Tampa Tribune sports writer Joe Henderson have known each other since 1977. “At his core,” he writes, Bowden is “a most remarkable human being.” This opening game of the 2004 season, he shadowed Bowden from the time he arrived in Miami following the funeral till after the devastating, sixth-in-a-row loss.

Henderson crafted a remarkable column about this experience with Bowden in Miami. “My assignment was to watch how one strong man coped under circumstances that would overwhelm many,” he wrote. Then he told what happened at the very end of that dark day.

Afterwards, after the braying and taunting of the crowd and the post-game interviews and the radio show, Bowden walked alone to the team bus. As he passed Joe Henderson, he tossed something to him. It was the FSU cap he wore on the sidelines during the game.

“Give it to your grandson, Joe,” he said softly.