It has been two years since the passing of former Clarksdale High School assistant football coach and head track coach Melvin Sinquefield but his memory still lingers in those of us who knew and loved the man.
The term “Heckfire, boy” got the attention of every athlete he ever coached as it was his call to arms, meant to get the adrenaline flowing and get his athletes focused on the job at hand. It also got his gym students pumped up for his 50-minute gym class.
Charles “Funny” Hastings, a one-time outstanding CHS student-athlete, saluted Sinquefield by rightly claiming in the funeral-home guest book: “We’ve never forgotten what you taught us.”
Indeed.
Mel, as he preferred to be called, cared for his athletes. He cared so much he kept up with us in our off-the-field endeavors, even into our personal lives.
More than once while I was dating a girl at CHS, he would ask: “How’s Cissy?” Or “How are you and Cissy getting along these days?” He cared and sincerely wanted to know. I suspect today that he might have thought my performance on the track somehow might be affected by my personal relationship, but that didn’t occur to me back then.
I once lost a race I thought I should have won. I finished second and was too embarrassed to get on the victory stand and accept my red ribbon.
I went under the stands and disappeared into a locker room I didn’t know existed.
Soon, coach Sinquefield was sitting by my side, not saying a word, with his arm around me.
“Heckfire, boy,” he finally said. “The sun will come up tomorrow.”
With that, he handed me my ribbon. We left the locker room together and I went on to anchor our winning mile relay team.
There was an unwritten rule at CHS at the time that no spring-sport athlete could participate in the senior play. Cissy volunteered to serve as props supervisor for the play my senior year and, in an effort to spend more time with her I tried out for a one-line part in the play.
The morning the play cast was posted on the school bulletin board, students walked up to me and offered “Congratulations” as I walked to my next class. I didn’t understand until Coach Sinquefield intercepted me in the hall by exclaiming: “Heckfire boy, what have you done?” “Coach, it’s only a one-line part!” He rolled his eyes and calmly informed me I had the LEAD role in the senior play!”
“That’s a mistake!” I assured him. “Yeah, and you made it!” he replied.
I ran to the play’s director to protest and she smiled and calmly informed me that the school’s senior English teacher, Ms. Annie See Sparks, had, after sitting in on casting calls, persuaded her to cast me in the lead role despite the unwritten rule.
When it came to rules, when Ms. Sparks was concerned, there was no appeal, not even for Coach Sinquefield.
We worked it out and I became the first spring-sport athlete to perform in a senior play at CHS.
Coach Sinquefield complimented me on my performance, which meant a lot to me at the time.
And still does.
