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November 16, 2005
Life after Bill
Wildcat fans and Manhattanites are struggling to imagine
a world without their beloved coach
By J. BRADY McCOLLOUGH
The Kansas City Star
MANHATTAN, Kan. - Winter has come early this year.
The first snow of the season falls outside Ballard's Sporting
Goods on Tuesday afternoon, peppering the cars parked on Moro
Street. Inside the store, Becky Ballard is trying not to cry.
Ballard, 41, holds her hand nervously over her mouth as she
listens to Bill Snyder's retirement announcement over the radio.
"He rambles a lot," she says with an easy smile.
Snyder's voice is comforting to her, like an old record. The
Kansas State football coach for the last 17 years, Snyder can't
get through sections of his speech because he keeps getting
choked up. It's been an emotional day for everyone.
"I've never seen him cry before," Ballard says.
That's the way Manhattanites talk about Snyder - as if he's
liable to stop by for Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's or their
cousin's baby shower.
"It goes back to his character," Manhattan Mayor
Ed Klimek says. "He's our coach, not Kansas State's coach.
When you walk down the sidewalk, you don't hear people talking
about Coach Snyder. It's Bill. He's a firm part of who we are
and what we are."
After Saturday's home game against Missouri, the Bill Snyder
era at Kansas State will be over. And as the news spread all
over town Tuesday morning, the community began to reflect on
what is widely considered the greatest coaching tenure in college
football history.
"Everyone is carrying their emotions with them," Klimek
says. "We're not just losing a football coach.
"This is a moment to be long remembered. Twenty-five
years from now, we're going to remember where we were."
Before 7 a.m. Tuesday, Klimek got a call from a friend who
told him the news. At 7, Mesha Pine was awakened by a call
from her boyfriend in Kansas City. Pine, a senior at K-State,
had been considering selling her tickets to the Missouri game
because the Wildcats are 4-6 and out of bowl contention.
"Do not sell your tickets," her boyfriend demanded.
"I was shocked," Pine says. "Thoroughly shocked."
Thanks to Snyder's abrupt retirement, Pine will be one of
many sentimental students holding on to those tickets.
"It's sad," Pine says. "Now it's not just my
last home game. It's his, too."
Says sophomore Joe Grdinovac: "We have to win his last
game."
Tuesday morning, many students battled the frigid winds and
discovered the news splashed above the masthead of the student
newspaper, the Kansas State Collegian, which incorrectly spelled
Snyder's name "Synder."
"They couldn't even get his name right," sophomore
Kyle Swanson says, flipping the paper down in frustration.
Swanson's buddy, sophomore Mitch Myer, picked up the paper
and turned to the section's letters to the editor. One letter
asserted that the Wildcats "are in need of some new blood" at
head coach.
"Stupid," Myer says. "They don't understand
football."
"He's given them everything they want," says junior
Tim Rheem. "They're spoiled."
The majority of K-State students were simply wondering why
Snyder would leave on a losing note.
"See you later, then," says sophomore Lindsey Darter,
feeling abandoned.
Students just assumed that Snyder would always be there, like
Joe Paterno at Penn State and Bobby Bowden at Florida State.
"He's like God," Grdinovac says. "If he said
class was canceled, nobody would go to class."
God doesn't age, however. The guys at Haynes barber shop in
Aggieville don't understand why college football coaches don't
sit back and let the Social Security checks roll in like the
rest of us.
"How old is Bill?" asks Edgar Chambers, a professor
at K-State.
"I think he's 67," a man responds.
"Well, it's retirement time, then, isn't it?" Chambers
says, laughing.
Ballard, who owns the sporting goods store that's become an
Aggieville mainstay, isn't laughing. She's one of many Manhattanites
who has benefited from Snyder's success. See, when Kansas State
wins, more people want to buy purple and silver gear.
Pre-Snyder, Ballard's had only a small section of its store
devoted to K-State clothing, and there were only two or three
licensed clothiers in town.
Then Snyder came. Then came the 1993Copper Bowl T-shirts that
flew off the shelves like Snyder's boys had just won the national
title. Then came the win over Nebraska in 1998. And you thought
the Copper Bowl T-shirts were cool.
"That was probably the wildest one," Ballard says. "Even
Michael Bishop showed up at the store."
Ballard has encapsulated Snyder's career milestones in T-shirts
over the years. Turns out the K-State licensing department
has other plans for Snyder's last game on Saturday. Ballard
was turned down for rights to print T-shirts and towels commemorating
Saturday's game.
Nobody wants to believe it's true, even the licensing people.
But judging by Snyder's words on Tuesday, winter is indeed
here for the Kansas State football program and the surrounding
community. The days seem to be getting shorter, but nobody
in Manhattan wants to think about that.
"Before Snyder, I'd be on a trip, and I'd say I'm from
Manhattan, Kansas," Klimek recalls. "They'd say,
`Where's that?' I was in Philadelphia a couple years ago and
said the same thing. A guy said, `That's where Kansas State
is! That's my favorite team! Did you see what they did last
week?'
"I don't think anybody wants to accept that we could
slide back down."
To reach J. Brady McCollough, sports reporter for The Star,
call (816) 234-7747 or send e-mail to jmccollough@kcstar.com
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