Farewell, Coach
Sept. 9, 2008
With only the “Glory Road” movie theme song whispering in the background, the Don Haskins Center on Tuesday was as quiet as a slumbering bear.
In the middle of the arena that bears his name lay the legendary Coach Don Haskins, who died Sunday, Sept. 7, at the age of 78. About 5,000 fans, friends and family stopped by the center to pay their respects to the Bear during the open-casket viewing.
Well-wishers signed condolence guest books before they walked into the center’s cave-like tunnel entrance. There was a reverential quietness as people walked down the orange carpet path that led to the Bear's dark wood casket.
Coach will remain at the Haskins Center until 8 p.m. Tuesday. A public memorial service is at 6:30 p.m. Thursday at the center.
His hands perfectly folded one over the other at his mid-section, Haskins wore a dark suit and a blue and orange tie. Clip on, of course.
A dried flower arrangement that included a blue necktie with diagonal orange stripes stood beside the casket. Yes, it also was the clip-on type Haskins was known to wear for a few minutes before he yanked it off, rolled it up and put it into the pocket of his sports coat.
On the casket itself, another arrangement made of long red, yellow and green chiles, a few with a hint of Miner orange. He always liked that spicy food.
A bright UTEP athletics logo was secured to the inside of his casket, and a six-inch-tall Teddy Bear that wore a UTEP sweater sat at the head of the casket. It seemed to grin slightly at the Papa Bear.
The center was cold and quiet. No Miner Maniacs in sight.
The electronic scoreboards read 72-65, the final score of the 1966 NCAA championship game that forever embedded Haskins and the Texas Western Miners in the record books – make that history books. Giant flat screens played a slideshow that depicted Haskins through the years, smiling, laughing, growling.
Fifteen empty chairs on the Haskins center floor represented a game day arrangement. His was draped in a black cloth. A rolled program lay near the chair, perhaps waiting to be waved at a referee or tossed on the ground following a bad call.
And all around, what wasn’t visible to the eye but certainly to the soul, was the love and respect of a community toward their legend, their coach, their Bear.
– Cindy Ramirez
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