To the editor:

It didn’t get much cooler for this 17-year old than tooling down East Washington Street on August football practice days in 1973, in the white 1962 Rambler, en route to fill the 32-gallon ice tub at Rockingham’s old Pepsi distribution plant. The old heap wasn’t much to look at, but Coach Ron Krall had just casually tossed his keys at me and instructed — in that inimitable western-PA accent — “Smith … go get the ice!” Why, it was a sacred trust.

I attended two universities that summer before my senior year at RSHS. The high school editor’s conference in Columbia, South Carolina, helped hone some writing skills one week in July. When I had notions of trying out for varsity football, Coach Krall had a different idea. Following an organizational meeting, I felt coach’s long arm drape around my neck; a hand that had caught passes from quarterback legend Roman Gabriel at NC State was squeezing my shoulder as his voice explained that I wasn’t destined for much playing time during my senior year.

“Why don’t I send you to the student-trainers’ clinic at UNC-Greensboro? You could do us a lot more good, and you’d be a full-fledged member of the team.” And what a vantage point for writing sports copy! I was sold.

Coach Krall died on November 4 at age 80. Legions of local young athletes from the late 1960s through the 1970s felt his impact, and now mourn his passing. After RSHS opened in 1972, Ron Krall was promoted from Rockingham Rockets’ assistant coach to Richmond’s first head varsity football coach. The first season was unforgettable as the team remained undefeated until deep into the playoffs. Coach would lead the school to its first state championship game, albeit, a close loss in 1976. Ron Krall would coach a state champion at High Point Central in 1979.

My first encounter with Coach Krall came when he caught me loafing while running laps in his ninth grade physical education class.

Those laps were serious business, and he draped that aforementioned arm about my neck as he explained the virtues of a young man becoming “hard and tough” – or at least physically fit.

He was rarely sparing with his rapier wit – skewering more than a few young smart alecks: “you can’t outfox the fox!” as the saying went with coach. Once while passing out our school photos when I was a member of his tenth grade homeroom, he zeroed in on me with precision. Sporting a huge fever blister, a hangdog look on my face, and an open-collared shirt that would have aptly served a mug shot, Coach Krall delivered that wicked grin and noted, “All ya’ need is a number, Smith, and you’re ready to go!” Perfect.

Coach never forgot former players or students. Another former player accompanied me to watch his football championship game in 1979. Coach Krall took several moments to chat us up just before the game, even inviting us to hear his pregame talk to his team. “You guys are always welcome in my locker room!” he told us. Simply a class act.

Douglas Smith

Rockingham