Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, September 8, 1994 TAG: 9410170007
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-4 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: RALPH BERRIER JR. STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Medium
State championship titles do.
The title "coach" does not.
It can be a bit disconcerting to the uninitiated to hear the girls' basketball players at Blacksburg refer to their head coach by his first name.
Even a few grizzled sportswriters have been thrown into states of shock and have become prone to lecturing on the unraveling of the moral fabric of society when interviewing a Blacksburg star after a game and hearing a statement like:
"Mickey told as at halftime we weren't doing the job defensively ..."
Or ...
"When Mickey called that timeout, he drew up a play that worked ..."
Or ...
"We really wanted to win this one for Mickey."
This may seem a piddly matter to those who have never suited up for a high school coach. What's the big deal about 16- and 17-year-old girls calling their basketball coach by his first name?
The answer is obvious. It's just not done.
A Floyd County player would never consider saying to head coach Alan Cantrell, "Hey, Al, why don't we run this play?"
You'll never go to a Radford practice and hear a player yell, "Yo, Brenda! You want us to shoot layups now?" to matriarch Brenda King.
Even at Blacksburg, where McGuigan, ... uh, Mickey ... coaches, a boys player would rather get caught getting wearing those short, short shorts from the mid-70s rather than call coach Bob Trear "Bobby".
"We respect Mickey," said senior Lisa Price, the Indians' leading scorer. "It's not like he's a drill officer. He's close with us. He's our coach, but he's more like our friend. He takes care of us ..."
She goes on, but realizes she can't really explain this unique relationship McGuigan and his players have.
"I don't know," she said. "We call him Mickey."
McGuigan, the girls' basketball coach at Blacksburg, has such an easygoing manner, he just hates to hear himself called "Coach McGuigan." It makes him sound too important.
"A lot of people see it as a respect issue," McGuigan said of the name game. "Having someone call me 'coach' doesn't mean I'm respected. Calling me 'Mickey' doesn't take respect away. Actually, I don't care what [the players] call me - Mickey, Mr. McGuigan, Coach ... it doesn't matter."
You can call him a winner. Blacksburg is coming off back-to-back Group AA state championships, and although the Indians are off to a rough start this season, the program still bears McGuigan's thumbprint.
His calm, relaxed style also characterizes his players. Maybe that's why they play so well for him and went 27-0 in 1992 and 26-2 last season. He's definitely not a fire-and-brimstone type. He comes across as more of an elementary school teacher, which he is.
"I see myself as a motivator in more of a subtle way," said McGuigan, who teaches fourth-graders at Harding Avenue. "My job is to let the players know I believe in them. I just want them to learn about the game."
McGuigan learned a lot about the game on his own. He didn't go out for the basketball team at James Madison High School in his hometown of Vienna. He was more of a recreational player.
He came to Virginia Tech with hopes of becoming a forest ranger before switching to elementary education. He didn't consider coaching as a possible career until he worked at some summer camps in North Carolina during his college days and played basketball with other counselors, including several former high school and college players.
All at once, he was learning about basketball and about working with young people.
"I got it in my head that this was what I wanted to do," he said.
Once he got into teaching, he joined the Blacksburg coaching staff as a junior varsity assistant in 1981. It was then that he first insisted his players call him Mickey. After all, he wasn't the head coach.
He worked his way up to head junior varsity coach in 1984 and was named varsity coach in 1989 as successor to Warren Murphy, who guided the Indians to state championships in 1978 and 1982.
Life has pretty much been a bed of roses for McGuigan, his wife Jane and their children Emily and Scott. This year's team, however, is a lot younger and more inexperienced than his past squads. The Indians were beaten badly by Lord Botetourt and Floyd County in a tournament last weekend. McGuigan's easygoing manner may be tested.
"I find myself being crustier," said McGuigan. "It's coming with the pressures."
by CNB