The football and life legacies of Mike Smart live on daily through his smiling son. (Kim Robinett photo)
Coach V back in the day. (Allison Roethle photo).
Coach V today. (Shelli Trumbull photo)
It takes a try or two to get Dustin Van Velkinburgh to talk about himself and his own pretty amazing exploits on the athletic fields at Coupeville High School.
He knows he was very good — is still very good — but like most top athletes, it is a quiet confidence, one built on deeds and not mindless boasting.
But ask him about the people he played with, and Coach V, who now passes on wisdom as Coupeville High School’s boys JV basketball coach, unleashes a torrent.
If my phone battery hadn’t started dying on me, he might still be going.
And no one, not even his athletic idol Greg White, or his most influential coaches, made the impact that Mike Smart did on him.
A hard-charging ball of fun, on and off the field, Smart, who died way too young after an automobile accident, is always with Van Velkinburgh and those who came of age with the pair.
Mike always put a smile on your face. I absolutely loved that kid!
I remember him blocking for Ian Barron his junior year, getting run over again and again and never complaining.
He was tough as nails.
But he was also the kid who made you laugh all the time. There was never a dull moment.
He would do the Mikey Shuffle.
He had a white t-shirt that had been cut-up, had that shirt since he was a freshman.
It was yellow, dirty, he never washed it all four years.
He’d wear that, put his cleats and helmet on, nothing else, and tap-dance in the shower for us.
In the huddle Noah (Roehl) would get upset with us. “We gotta score now!!”
And then Mikey would tell him to shut up and make him laugh.
When basketball came around, we all showed up with our brand new Nike’s. We had the freshest gear.
Mikey walks in wearing an old pair of Chuck Taylor’s, didn’t care what anyone thought.
We used to eat Coach Smart, Mike’s dad, out of house and home … literally. He’d come home and be, “What the hell?!?!”
Those memories are priceless. You can’t get those back. I miss Mikey.
For a kid who grew up on the playing fields at CHS, the chance to have older players to emulate helped a great deal, Van Velkinburgh said.
The upperclassmen, the time they spent with us, was invaluable. Jake Johnson was my reading partner, made all the difference in the world to me.
Greg White was the man!
If he saw you in the gym, he’d come up and show you, throw like this, you’ll get a better result.
We went white water rafting with Youth Dynamics one time and Greg was back home from college.
On the trip, our boat got caught in a whirlpool and we got sucked in. We managed to help each other and came out OK.
Grabbing Greg and pulling him back in the boat, it was like saving Superman in a lot of ways for me.
There were others too, who made an impact on the young athlete who would one day grow up to a coach at the same school he once played at.
Damon Vracin, in track, tackling me and beating me up a bit and then showing me a little bit of love, letting me know I was part of his group.
When I was a freshman, we were playing football in Canada and everyone was sick from some pasta we ate.
I wasn’t even in uniform, so I was getting water for everyone.
Rich Wilson, who was a senior, kept on leaving the field, puking, then going back out there.
He looked at me and said “This is what champions are made of.”
Guys like that taught me how to compete.
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