Buddy Blog: Mentors Matter. From Ray Graves To Steve Spurrier to Billy Napier. To My Guy Jim.

"I could make a case for Spurrier begetting the Gators’ entire lineage of royalty and greatness. He even inspired Urban Meyer, who confessed he loved “everything about his (Spurrier’s) team, the way it played, the way it took the field …”

Part 1: Steve Spurrier, Then And Now

(As a public service for all those young Gators who don’t yet realize their heritage.)

Maybe you never heard of Edwin Graves. He was a postmaster in Knoxville, Tenn. If you’re a Gator fan, or player, write his name down, because he helped change the future, the fortunes and flamboyance of your Florida football team.

He didn’t actually do it, but his brother Ray did.

We bring up Postmaster Graves today because I’m thinking about the importance of mentors. Especially after the death of mine last week. (More later, see below.)

Edwin Graves, who died in 2005, actually “discovered” Spurrier in nearby Johnson City. He kept calling his brother in Gainesville, talking about this three-sport star at Science Hill High School whom he had seen play. Finally, Coach Graves flew up to see the megastar in Johnson City three times and invited Spurrier to Gainesville. That would change everything, fostering a whole chain of superb mentors in UF football history.

It took a while for UF and Spurrier to connect. For one thing, Steve loved making visits to all the other campuses. His mom wanted him to sign with Georgia Tech because of strong academics. His dad wanted him to play for Bear Bryant at Alabama.

There was no National Signing Day in 1963 and if there would have been “I’d probably have signed with Ole Miss.” Tennessee wanted him – even offered Steve a basketball scholarship – but the Vols were a singlewing team with no place for his football skill set. So his extended SEC recruiting tour took some time, slowly cooking.

Finally, Spurrier arrived on the Florida campus one fine spring day, checked the weather and saw it was about 30 degrees warmer than back home in Johnson City, which made it easier as he’d come to realize he wanted to be a Gator. A few rounds of golf on the UF course helped clinch the deal. But first he was hospitalized with mono-nucleosis at the UF infirmary.

Coach Graves commandeered a boosters’ private plane to return him to The Tri-Cities Airport and Johnson City. A few months later in August he was back in Gainesville, decked out in orange and blue for the freshman team.

Which makes you wonder: Without Edwin Graves, would there have ever been that statue of Spurrier alongside his Heisman winning quarterback Danny Wuerffel, who was the hero of Tim Tebow, the statue to his right, or Wuerffel, just to his left?

Steve Spurrier alongside his coach and mentor, Ray Graves (UAA Photo)

I could make a case for Spurrier begetting the Gators’ entire lineage of royalty and greatness. He even inspired Urban Meyer, who confessed he loved “everything about his (Spurrier’s) team, the way it played, the way it took the field …”

Paying homage to the past, Urban rewarded both Ray Graves and Spurrier 2006 national championship rings. Steve’s ring is on display at his Steve Spurrier’s Gridiron Grille.

And now Billy Napier admits he joined the Steve Spurrier Admiration Society a long time ago. Napier told Zach Abolverdi of Gators Online recently that he met with both Spurrier and Meyer, paying his respects after being hired by Scott Stricklin.

Coach Napier has a different take on his "huge asset." The HBC (Chris Spears Photo)

Unlike his predecessors, Napier gets it.

“For me, heck, I’m still a little starstruck when I see Coach Spurrier,” Napier said. “I’m that age. When you got a legend walking around the building, what a great resource, right? Just listening to him about the dynamic in recruiting, and he helps us with those efforts. Listening to him about the coaching aspect on the field.”

As obvious as it sounds, I’m dumbfounded how both Jim McElwain and Dan Mullen almost blew off Steve Spurrier, failing to pick the brilliant mind of The Head Ball Coach. It’s like if you had Vince Lombardi or Bill Belichick or even Bear Bryant living next door — wouldn’t you take time to say hello, take them a bottle of wine for Christmas, or even sneak a peek at their library?

Some people disagree with me on that. One of them is Spurrier.

“They got their own way of doings things,” Spurrier told me, “And that’s why they got hired. They don’t need me hanging around.”

The HBC says he had total access and would drop by Mullen’s office now and then but didn’t feel the need.

Spurrier went on to talk about other ex-great coaches and how their presence didn’t necessarily portend success.

“When Scott Frost was hired at Nebraska, he moved Tom Osborne’s office to the football building. And that didn’t work to his advantage, did it?”

Happily, Steve will keep his office with the other UAA administrators and not move to the new football building. Where he is now he can park nearby, then easily slip in and out to the golf course or the restaurant without fanfare.

No matter, Steve's reputation precedes him everywhere, including with Napier:

“He was a visionary offensively relative to what was working at the time and how he made them more difficult to defend and prepare for. And then just a general pride of the place, right? You’re talking about someone who really cares about the University of Florida. And he’s done things at places that had never been done before, both here and at South Carolina. So, just a very accomplished person, and having him as a resource is unique and a blessing.”

Here's why that’s so smart by Napier. At a time when most folks erroneously presume that young athletes don’t care about history and are wrapped up in Gordon Gekko greed, I think they are missing the chance to educate them. It’s more than just about Lamborghinis and Lollipops.

A few former coaches have told me they are discouraged by the NIL and Transfer Portal blitzkrieg. One who has tasted national championship champagne and caviar said, “College Football will never be the same again.” Another was Urban Meyer.

Hopefully they’re wrong. When the temporary rush about the bright shiny new thing has subsided, why can’t the quest for excellence and tradition still be a priority?

That’s where the need for mentors becomes dire. Young people and novices still crave knowledge and someone to guide them down the right path toward success. They need to hear a voice speaking to that.

Who among us wouldn’t have craved a chance to study at the knee of an iconic mentor like Steve Spurrier? In any field or on any mission. It made me think about my youth.

* * *

I certainly did crave mentoring in my early 20’s when I was floundering around, trying to learn how to become a better sportswriter, hone the craft of writing and reporting and advance my career. I’d never have made it far except for the encouragement, wisdom and patience of Journalism Professor Hugh Cunningham at UF to guide me for a few years.

I was lost at sea. Until I was rescued by Jim Head. He opened the gates of the big-time and ushered me into the land of opportunity, teaching me how to hunt down a story, craft it and breathe life into it through passion and curiosity.

Immediately after I was hired at Today newspaper in Brevard County, Jim Head told me to pack my bags for Houston, where the world’s first basketball inside a dome was going to be played. Little did I realize I was seeing such ground-breaking history.

That night in the Astrodome, the Houston Cougars and Elvin Hayes upset UCLA and Lew Alcindor. At courtside I remember being struck by how differently sound of the bouncing of the ball was in the vast confines of the Astrodome. “Like a BB rolling around in a barrel,” I wrote, perhaps reaching a bit to make the point.

My mentor: The late Jim Head (Family Photo)

That was just my first baby step toward the big-time which would eventually lead to New York, where Jim once worked at the famed New York Herald-Tribune; then Jim later worked at the Miami Herald, Miami News and Detroit Free Press before taking the helm at the upstart Today paper in Cocoa, the forerunner at Gannett’s USA Today.

He hired me to work in New York, punching my ticket to Madison Square Garden, the Meadowlands, Yankee Stadium and just about every major sports venue on the planet. Jim would teach me to use my eyes, ears, heart and instincts to tell my story. Sometimes he sent me back to the typewriter for a do-over.

And not just sports. Randomly he would choose to assign me a non-sports piece, like attending the funeral of Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong in a Corona Queens Baptist Church – and riding there in a limo with sultry songstress Peggy Lee, who was to sing The Lord’s prayer.

I also covered the Moonshot, did an in-studio visit and profile with Today Show anchor Frank McGee (also riding in his limo from Scarsdale) and headed up a team to cover a school bus/train crash that killed five students which would win first place in the New York state AP feature awards. All made possible by working under a master. More importantly, he believed in me.

It almost didn’t happen. It took three interviews at this new newspaper before Jim Head hired me (only one with him.) Along the way, we laughed a lot, had a few adult beverages and occasionally broke out in song, him on the fiddle and me on the keyboard in the basement of his upstate New York home in Cold Spring, hard against the Hudson River. It sounded best when we had more than one beverage.

James D. Head, from Kansas died last week of covid in a Howie-In-The-Hills veterans retiree home. He was 96.

I certainly did crave mentoring in my early 20’s when I was floundering around, trying to learn how to become a better sportswriter, hone the craft of writing and reporting and advance my career. I’d never have made it far except for the encouragement, wisdom and patience of Journalism Professor Hugh Cunningham at UF to guide me through the darkness for a few years. He was one of the few who believed in the small town boy and would whisper in my ear, “you’re going to be an editor someday.”

I was lost at sea. Until I was rescued by Jim Head. He opened the gates of the big-time and ushered me into the land of opportunity, teaching me how to hunt down a story, craft it and breathe life into it through passion and curiosity.

Immediately after I was hired at Today newspaper in Brevard County, Jim Head told me to pack my bags for Houston, where the world’s first basketball inside a dome was going to be played. Little did I realize I was seeing such transformative history.

That night in the Astrodome, the Houston Cougars and Elvin Hayes upset UCLA and Lew Alcindor. At courtside, I remember being struck by how differently the sound of the bouncing of the ball was in the vast confines of the Astrodome. “Like a BB rolling around in a barrel,” I wrote, perhaps reaching a bit to make the point.

That was just my first baby step toward the big-time which would eventually lead to New York, where Jim once worked at the famed New York Herald-Tribune; then Jim later worked at the Miami Herald, Miami News and Detroit Free Press before taking the helm at the upstart Today paper in Cocoa, the forerunner at Gannett’s USA Today. He was bold and bodacious and brilliant — even borderline roguish at times.

He hired me to work in New York, punching my ticket to Madison Square Garden, the Meadowlands, Yankee Stadium and just about every major sports venue on the planet. Jim would teach me to use my eyes, ears, heart and instincts to tell my story. Sometimes he sent me back to the typewriter for a do-over.

And not just sports. Randomly he would choose to assign me a non-sports piece, like attending the funeral of Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong in a Corona Queens Baptist Church – and riding there in a limo with sultry songstress Peggy Lee, who was to sing The Lord’s prayer.

Looking back, I am overwhelmed at the blind trust he had in me.

I also covered the Moonshot, did an in-studio visit and profile with Today Show anchor Frank McGee (also riding in his limo from Scarsdale) and headed up a team to cover the story of a school bus/train crash that killed five students which would win first place in the New York state AP feature awards. All made possible by working under a master. Who believed in me.

It almost didn’t happen. It took three interviews (but only one with him) at this new newspaper before Jim Head hired me. Along the way, we laughed a lot, had a few adult beverages and occasionally broke out in song, him on the fiddle and me on the keyboard in the basement of his upstate New York home in Cold Spring, hard against the Hudson River. It sounded best when we had more than one beverage.

James D. Head, from Kansas died last week of covid in a Howie-In-The-Hills veterans retiree home. He was 96.

* * *

So was it happenstance or fate? Without Jim Head there would have been no Buddy Martin. Without Edwin Graves, there likely wouldn’t be a statue of Steve Spurrier in front of BHG Stadium, or his name on the field. Or a whole lot of other cool stuff about the Florida Gators.

NEXT WEEK: Steve Spurrier’s landing spot and why his restaurant has become a recruiting weapon for Napier and the Gators. I head to Spurrier’s Gridiron Grille to order Steve’s favorite meal.