The Unlikely Legend

Aft er a staggering 50 years guiding Penn’s oft -overlooked sprint team, Bill Wagner decides to step —but not before leaving more than 1,500 alumni with unique athletic memories, life lessons, and a stockpile of indelible “Wagisms.” By Dave Zeitlin

one direction, an army of bleary- power plant nestled between train eyed Philadelphians are on the tracks and the expressway, underfoot the In move. Wearing scrubs or suits, Air- bustle of the bridge. Pods plugged into their ears, they’re Bill Wagner is used to going against making their fi nal march of the week from the current. A three- college athlete their University City jobs back to the oth- who had an opportunity to play profes- er side of the Schuylkill. It’s 6 p.m. on a sional , he carved a diff erent breezy mid-September Friday, and the path as a head coach of a team that few sidewalks of the South Street Bridge are people know exist, in a sport many don’t congested with people going home. really understand. Heading in the other direction, an en- Wagner himself had never heard of ergetic old man on his way to work weaves lightweight football when Penn hired through them all, like a shifty running him to run its program. That was in back fi nding holes in the defense. He 1970. The name of the sport has since walks briskly, far brisker than you might changed, to sprint football, but Wagner imagine 80-year-old legs can handle. But never did. He remains a beacon of com- he’s on a mission. In about an hour, he’ll passion and integrity for a half-century’s coach the fi rst game of his last season. worth of Penn football players who “There’ve been a lot of walks across weigh less than players on the more this bridge,” he says with more than a well-known football team (or “fat boy hint of nostalgia, trailing a group of football,” as the sprint guys like to call Penn students also headed west toward it); a never-ceasing dispenser of goofy Franklin Field, from their locker room quips and clichés that came to be known in the Hollenback Center—a converted as “Wagisms”; a constant promoter of a

40 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE Nov| Dec 2019 PHOTO BY TOMMY LEONARDI C’89 Nov| Dec 2019 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 41 program, sport, and league often on story of Wagner doing the same thing early in the fourth quarter, with a bois- shaky ground; a legend in the eyes of the more than a decade later. “That was my terous crowd of roughly 500, along with more than 1,500 people he’s coached. this guy is crazy realization,” laughs the Penn Band and cheerleaders, urging But Wagner is 80 now. The 2019 cam- Hubsher, who decided to stick with the them on. Unlike some aging coaches who paign marks his 50th in charge of Penn’s “crazy” coach as a part-time assistant. might spend the twilight of their careers sprint football program, making him one Wagner, who also served as the Penn sitting upstairs in a booth, or acting as a of the longest-tenured coaches of any baseball team’s pitching coach for 35 fi gurehead, Wagner is on his feet the team, ever. The team plays in a stadium years, is probably even better throwing a whole time, pacing the sideline, his celebrating its 125th anniversary. All of baseball than he is a football. And equal- booming voice—“TIMEOUT!”—piercing the numbers were just so … round. If ly competitive, too. Until a couple of years both ends of the stadium. “He knows he there was ever a time to walk away, it ago, he was playing in a hardball, fast- still has the energy, which is making it was at the end of this season. pitch baseball league against players half harder,” says his wife, Connie, who takes That’s what he told his current players his age. Not long before Wagner hung up photos at every game. Adds senior quar- in late August, the tears starting to fl ow his cleats, sprint football off ensive coor- terback Eddie Jenkins, “By the way he as soon as he gathered them in the lock- dinator Jerry McConnell visited his South acts, you’d think he’s 25 out there.” er room for a talk he’d been putting off Jersey home—which a bannister Throughout the contest, Jenkins can’t for years. “Every time I think of that made of baseball bats—and asked why he help but think of Wagner’s emotional pre- word, I cry,” he said. But he vowed that was covered in dirt. “Headfi rst into sec- game talk—and how the coach broke down the word retirement wouldn’t stop him ond, Jer,” Wagner told him, as if there was crying, for the third time in three weeks. from still being around the program, nothing out of the ordinary about a man “We want to win for him,” the from watching everyone graduate, from in his 70s sliding to beat a tag. says, his helmet furnished with a “50 making his fi nal season a special one. Wagner took that same attitude into Wags” sticker, like all of his teammates’. Citizens Bank Park on September 10, “That’s what this season is all about.” After hree weeks later, with the team’s when he was recognized for his coaching running for all three of his team’s - 2019 opener versus Army set to kick career by the Philadelphia Phillies—and downs, the senior fi nds himself driving his T off , Wagner is back in the Hollen- came away absolutely disgusted with team down the fi eld in the fi nal minute, back locker room, showing off the himself that the honorary fi rst pitch he the Quakers trailing 24–21 and out of time- refurbishments made possible by alum- threw from the mound bounced before outs. He completes one long pass to the ni donations—the lifeblood of the pro- reaching the plate. “I can take a baseball Army 40-yardline, then another to the gram. He walks to his offi ce next door, right now and fi re the damn thing to Army 28. Thirteen seconds remain. Penn where all of his assistant coaches—most- second base from home plate!” says has time for one more play, maybe two. ly former players—are enjoying each Wagner, who marked what’s typically a The pocket collapses on Jenkins and he’s other’s company. Someone reminds lighthearted occasion by uncorking his off running, needing to get out of bounds Wagner, who’s called “Wags” by just famed “knuckle drop,” a pitch he says to stop the clock or into the to about everyone who knows him, about helped put former Penn baseball pupil win the game. He’s tackled short of both, his promise to play in next year’s alumni Steve Adkins EAS’86 into the Major and time runs out on what could have game, the annual event that pits the cur- Leagues. “That pissed me off !” been a dream victory. “If the kid didn’t rent team against former players, some Almost as disappointing: attending that tackle him, he’s in the end zone,” Wagner in their 60s [“Varsity Rules,” Nov|Dec Phillies game prevented him from put- laments afterwards. “That would’ve been 2013]. In a fl ash, Wags gets down in a ting his team through its paces at prac- one hell of an ending, wouldn’t it?” His quarterback stance and mimics a pass. tice. Wagner thinks it’s the only practice brain is now churning, thinking of all of “He’s a fantastic athlete,” says Steve he ever missed in 50 years. Yet as he the other endings over 50 years. “It would Barry W’95, recounting a story from his walks from Hollenback to Franklin Field have been the best,” he adds. playing days when Wagner, frustrated three days later, he’s confi dent his team About 30 minutes later, save for his wife with his quarterback during a training is well-prepared to take on Army, a peren- and a couple of kids diving around the camp practice, threw down his clip- nial juggernaut of the Collegiate Sprint Franklin Field turf, Wagner is alone with board, took over at QB, and fi red “just a Football League (CSFL). his thoughts inside the stadium. He’s just perfect strike to a guy 35 yards down- Early in the Friday night opener, Penn told his players how proud he was of fi eld. He then picks up his clipboard and looks overmatched. But after a tough them, how they should aim to meet Army yells, ‘Now that’s how you do it!’” Dave fi rst half in which they fall behind 14–0, again in the CSFL championship (which Hubsher EAS’11 tells an almost identical the Quakers storm back to make it 21–21 this year will be held at Franklin Field, on

42 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE Nov| Dec 2019 A younger Bill Wagner, coaching in 1979.

November 8th), how they would punish Cornell the following week if they played as well as they did in the second half (which they did, walloping the Big Red, 61–7, on September 20, behind seven Jen- kins ). But as any coach might after a tough loss, he’s questioning some of his late-game decisions as he leaves the fi eld, including whether he should have tried for a game-tying fi eld goal. He looks up at the nighttime sky, point- ing out that there’s a full moon on this Friday the 13th. Soon, while walking back over the South Street Bridge, his priori- ties shift. He passes one of his players, already showered and in street clothes, jogging back to campus. Another is hold- ing two plates of food from the postgame tailgate party that parents put on outside of Hollenback. One more rides by on his bike. He stops them all, telling them to be safe. “He never puts on an act,” says for- mer player and current assistant coach Chuck Hitschler W’73. “The players feel that. They feel that he has their back. He’s like having a father on campus—or a grandfather on campus.” Before joining everyone at the tail- gate—“the best in the league,” McCon- nell boasts—Wagner gazes across the bridge at the Philadelphia skyline, now “You get sick from the smell,” McConnell “So what the hell are we doing up here?” illuminated red and blue. It’s been a says. If there was ever a time and place for A senior in the back raised his hand. long, emotional day. He knows there Hitschler, a former wrestler who had to “Coach, Coach, I got it. It’s because we won’t be many more days like these, and stop wrestling when he hurt his knee, to love to play football.” everywhere he looks the longevity of his question why he was playing sprint foot- “Well, that’s good enough for me,” Wag- rapidly ending career is being put into , it was then and there. Still, he perked ner replied. “Now let’s go have some fun!” perspective. “Sixty percent of that wasn’t up as Wagner began his pregame talk. For Hitschler, that struck right at the there when I started,” he says, taking one “All right, this is where you earn your “essence” of sprint football, a sport that more glance at the Center City skyscrap- scholarships!” the young head coach said. most people don’t realize is varsity and, ers before walking downstairs to fi ll his Huh? aside from mandating a weight limit on plate with pasta, meatballs, and wings. “Wait a minute, none of you guys are players (currently 178 pounds), has the on scholarships,” Wagner continued. same rules in place as regular college “Love of the Game” “All right, there’s 40,000 screaming football. “You can walk around campus It was early in the 1970s, in Wagner’s sec- fans, and when you run out—” and you can have all of your sprint foot- ond or third season as head coach, when He cut himself off . ball stuff on and people still don’t know Hitschler distinctly remembers sitting in “Actually there’s only a couple of hun- what that is,” says Hitschler, a longtime the visitors’ “locker room” at Army West dred fans.” high school coach at Penn Charter who Point, which he and McConnell—now the Some murmurs in the locker room. now serves as the Quakers’ defensive team’s top two assistants—liken more to a “All right, your girlfriends are out there— coordinator. “There’s no glory.” garage than a locker room. There are no no, you guys are too ugly to have girlfriends.” “We play in front of a couple hundred bathrooms; only two porta-potties outside. Laughter. friends and family,” adds Barry. “There’s

Photo courtesy Penn Athletics Nov| Dec 2019 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 43 nobody that’s going pro, or even getting Although lightweight football at Penn Penn’s dean of admissions, learned of scholarship money. It’s purely because dates back to 1931—it was then called the sprint football when his high school coach we love football—and that is what Wags 150-pound football team, and was in upstate New York received a letter from is all about.” launched to give smaller athletes a Wagner that was part of a mass mailing While it might be a cliché, love of the chance to compete at the collegiate lev- recruiting campaign. “I can say as a fact game was indeed all Wagner needed to el—most of the teams through the fi rst that I would never have been at Penn if it coach the Quakers as long as he has. And half of Wagner’s tenure were indeed over- wasn’t for Coach Wagner,” says Furda, although he grew up on the other side of matched. “Back in the ’70s, it was a little who won only one game in his four years the river in working-class Camden, ending more diffi cult because you never knew on the sprint football team and practiced up at Penn was almost predestined, too. who was going to show up,” says Steve on a fi eld—Murphy Field, where Meikle- His grandfather was named Benjamin Galetta C’79 GM’87, one of the top run- john Stadium has since been built—that Franklin Wagner. So was his father, who ning backs in program history and a was so sandy “the Mars Rover needed to instilled in him a love of sports from an member of the Penn Athletics Hall of go there.” (Former player and coach Nate early age. The oldest of fi ve children, Fame. Army and Navy, meanwhile, were Scott C’89 GEd’89 recalls that something Wagner spent much of his childhood “beating everyone up, looked bigger than did land there—MedEvac helicopters that shadowing his dad to baseball games at anyone in the league, had 100 players at he says interrupted practice for 10 min- the old Shibe Park or to Franklin Field to every game,” Wagner notes. J. Matthew utes at a time.) And all of this was happen- watch gridiron legends like Francis Wolfe C’78 remembers that for the fi nal ing while Penn’s other football team was “Reds” Bagnell C’51. And like his father, game of the 1975 season, the Quakers racking up titles. “One win in he excelled at three sports: football, bas- traveled to Navy with an injury-wracked four years—who the hell wants to do ketball, and baseball. He was so good at roster of about 25 players and that fi ve of that?” Furda says. “Just his level of com- baseball, in fact, that coming out of Tren- the seven off ensive lineman limped to the mitment to kind of stick through regard- ton State College, he was off ered $3,700 for the fi rst play. They less—he’s a tough-ass guy in that way.” by the Los Angeles Dodgers to play for lost, 57–7. “It’s tough in a league where It took 26 years but Penn fi nally broke their minor league affi liate in Spokane, you have Army and Navy, in a sport that’s through, sharing a piece of its fi rst Washington. But knowing that the op- almost built for Army and Navy,” Wolfe league championship under Wagner in portunity for advancement in Major says. “Everyone goes to service academies 1996. (The Quakers went on to win titles League Baseball (which then had about between 160 and 190 pounds, and they in 1998, 2000, 2010, and 2016, going un- half as many teams as it does today) could all played football in high school.” defeated in ’00 and ’16). The big win of be limited, he instead accepted an off er Nevertheless, Wagner didn’t make ex- that ’96 season—and one of the biggest closer to home: coaching football, basket- cuses, nor did he treat sprint football like of Wagner’s career—came in the penul- ball, and baseball at Camden’s Woodrow a second-class sport. His players might timate week when the Quakers stunned Wilson High, which he had attended. have been walk-ons with limited experi- Army, 16-13, despite being outgained in Wagner spent the rest of the 1960s ence—but they still had to take it seri- yardage by a 354-99 margin. teaching and coaching at Woodrow Wil- ously. “He wanted to make sure it was In the aftermath of that victory, Wag- son and at nearby Cherry Hill High clear this is not an intramural-type of ner’s elderly father—who attended every School East. And when longtime Penn program,” says George Heinze ChE’76. game, even into his 80s and 90s—stood baseball coach Bob Seddon paid a visit That meant following the rules. In one of in front of the celebrating team (and to Cherry Hill to recruit one of his play- the last games of the 1978 season, Wagner next to longtime assistant coach Dan ers, he also gauged Wagner’s interest in benched seven players for violating cur- Harrell CCGS’00 CGS’03 LPS’08), proud- two coaching spots that had just opened few the night before the game. “That was ly showing off his “Beat Army” shirt. The at Penn: for the freshman baseball and one of the toughest games I ever played photo snapped in that moment remains lightweight football teams. Wagner in my entire life,” says Galetta, now a neu- one of the coach’s most prized posses- ended up taking the plunge—but not rologist and professor at NYU who previ- sions. “To know Wags, you have to know before wondering: What is lightweight ously served as the sprint football team’s his dad,” says Harrell, best known for his football anyway? faculty advisor while working at Penn. former role as a Palestra custodian [“A “I had to fi nd out what it was about,” “But those were life lessons.” Palestra Icon Hangs Up His Mop,” Wagner says. “And I found out really From a results standpoint, things didn’t Sep|Oct 2012]. “Everything Wags got, he quick these kids were playing for the improve much in the 1980s. But Wagner got from his dad. His dad was an old- love of the game. Half of them had never continued to build a culture—while seek- school, hard-nosed guy. There’s no gray played football when I fi rst got here.” ing out more talent. Eric Furda C’87, now area with Wags. He’s not a bullshitter.”

44 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE Nov| Dec 2019 Wagner huddles with his players in 2013.

Wagner’s father died, at 95, in 2004. At the end of that season, a new team spir- “The great thing about a Wagism it award was named in his honor, which Doug Pires C’05 was the fi rst to receive. is he would yell it out in a moment of “I tell you, to this day, that was the most touching thing that’s ever happened to frustration and we’d be in the huddle me,” Pires says. “This old guy in a wheel- chair could pump the team up—just by like, What the hell did he just say?” his presence and what it meant to Wags.”

“If a Frog Had Wings … ” “If you’re looking for sympathy, you just say?” says Scott, who went on to A sampling of “Wagisms” collected by can fi nd it in the dictionary between shit coach on Wagner’s staff for nine years. those who’ve heard the coach blurt them and tears.” “There’s a lesson to be derived from that, out over the years: Not all “Wagisms” are completely orig- but I’m not sure what it is.” “If a frog had wings, it wouldn’t bump inal, but it was the coach’s delivery that “He would always screw it up just a its ass when it hopped.” perfected the sayings and usually made little bit,” says Barry, adding that Wag- “Don’t go falling out of any trees tonight.” the players laugh, even in moments when ner also often mispronounced players’ “If you don’t swing, you don’t hit.” they were being reprimanded. “The great names in hilarious fashion. “He’s fun- “How many times do you have to kick thing about a Wagism is he would yell it ny,” notes former player Alan Fein W’76, a dog in the ass before he stops pissing out in a moment of frustration and we’d “but I don’t know if he always means to in the kitchen?” be in the huddle like, What the hell did he be funny.”

Photo courtesy Penn Athletics Nov| Dec 2019 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 45 At this year’s alumni game, Henrik with Wagner while serving as Penn’s “fat for Penn’s game versus Army this season, Ager WG’93 (a native of Sweden who boy football” coach from 1992 through only to fl y back to Florida the very next Wagner remembers coming out for the 2014. “You can meet alumni from 30 morning. “It doesn’t matter what year team with “a cigarette in his mouth”) years ago and you have the immediate you played for him, what decade you shared a classic story of Wagner peeing reference point of Wags. And he’s been played for him, what position you played at a urinal in a Princeton bathroom next the same guy.” for him—we all have a similar bond be- to an opposing coach who told him, Bagnoli was one of many former play- cause we played for him.” “Here at Princeton, we learn to wash our ers at this year’s alumni game—where And it’s been that bond that not only hands.” To which Wags responded: “At fi erce allegiance toward Wagner was on kept Wagner happy at Penn for, as he likes Penn, only the people who know not to full display. So was the head coach’s vi- to say, 62.5 percent of his life—it also kept piss on their hands are accepted.” tality. Near the end of the exhibition the University’s sprint football program “It was something like that, yeah,” contest, with the alumni team losing by afl oat when it could have easily sunk. Wagner laughs. “We have some Prince- almost 40 points and the current squad’s ton jokes.” A while back, he started a deep reserves on the fi eld to close it out, “There’s Nobody Like Him” tradition of bringing a pumpkin on the Wagner was still looking at his clipboard About 20 years ago, at the team’s end-of- road to Princeton (to match the color of and calling off ensive plays. “I debated year banquet, Wagner’s friends and for- the Tigers’ helmets), drawing a funny even if I should say hi,” says Barry, who mer players surprised the coach with a face on it, and then smashing it on the approached Wagner—briefl y—in the friendly roast. When it was his turn to ground in the locker room. “I didn’t have fourth quarter. “I waited until they were speak, his wife recalls, Wagner said it to say anything,” he says. “They would on defense.” Only later did Wagner learn almost felt like a retirement ceremony— get so fi red up from that.” that his team had been trying to put up which caused him to break down crying Though Princeton drew most of his ire, 50 points, in honor of his 50 years. They just at the thought. he had a penchant for ribbing his own came close, winning 44–0. “Those dogs,” “He’s been anticipating this day for 20 players too. Former CSFL Most Valuable Wagner told the assembled crowd at the years,” Connie says, “and it hasn’t gotten Player Mike Bagnoli C’11 recalls a Brazil- postgame barbeque on Shoemaker easier. The funny thing is that maybe for ian kicker showing up for practice one Green, outside of Franklin Field. “I said, the last 15 years, he keeps saying, ‘I’ve got day in a Cincinnati Bengals Chad Ocho- ‘Don’t you dare.’ ” a great group of freshmen coming in, I cinco jersey—before being promptly told The fi nal score probably meant little to want to see them graduate.’ You can only by Wagner to run up and down the steps the alumni in the end. Afterwards, every- do that so many times. Then he got more of Franklin Field. “It was all love there; one just wanted to shake Wagner’s hand, practical, and it was two more years. just philosophical diff erences,” Bagnoli or take a photo with their old coach. “Aw, Then he started saying one more year.” laughs. If Wagner was hard on someone, he’s so cute,” one alum’s girlfriend said of “I have asked him probably for the last it was usually in a caring, avuncular way. Wagner, as he made time for everyone, fi ve years, ‘When are you going to retire? He wasn’t afraid to bench a starting quar- remembering specifi c plays from decades This is a lot for you. You need to be able to terback for violating a team rule, but he ago and saying “We go way, way back” to go relax and travel,’” says his daughter also permitted a player to skip practice more than one of them. “He’s the best,” Beth Coyne C’86, who played and to attend the World Series, or to fl y back the former player responded. fi eld at Penn, and has three daugh- from a job interview in San Francisco the By the time he got to Shoemaker ters who attend or have attended the Uni- day of a game. When Bernie Lopez C’82, Green, Wagner was still holding his clip- versity. “But he just wanted to make sure who says he was “essentially a nobody on board, still full of energy. “I’m not a he left the program in a strong place.” the team,” decided to quit, Wagner re- crybaby—I want to establish that right Ensuring the program’s long-term vi- spected his decision. When Lopez real- now,” he said. But by the end of his ability has always been a central theme ized he’d made a mistake and asked to speech, as everyone rose in a standing of Wagner’s tenure. He fi rst learned of return, he “took me back, and he didn’t ovation, he couldn’t help but again wipe the precarious nature of sprint football treat me any diff erent than he did before,” away a few tears. during his second year in charge, when says Lopez, now an emergency-medicine “The thing we all have—the common he says then-University president Martin physician at Thomas Jeff erson Univer- bond—is Wags,” says Dan Malasky C’97, Meyerson Hon’70 threatened to drop the sity Hospital who’s mentored past players who kicked the winning fi eld goal in sport. Wagner helped rally alumni to interested in medical careers. Penn’s momentous win over Army in contribute fi nancially to stave it off and “He’s such a genuine, caring guy,” adds 1996. Now the chief legal offi cer for the save his job. But the advent of Title IX— Bagnoli, whose uncle, Al, got along well NFL’s Tampa Bay Buccaneers, he fl ew in the 1972 federal civil rights law that, in

46 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE Nov| Dec 2019 part, mandates equal access for men and It’s gotten to the point where last year the team didn’t get back to Philly until at women participating in college sports— program’s direct costs (operating expenses about 7 a.m. the next day because of a kept the program in danger for many and coaching staff compensation) were 100 weather delay and six overtimes. Or when years. As colleges strived to have the percent funded by the combination of an- all of the coaches and players had to “get same number of male and female ath- nual fundraising donations and income out and push the fucking bus into the letes, maintaining two football teams from endowments that the sprint football middle of the street” at Army. Or that (with upwards of 150 combined players) community has established, according to time at Navy the team had to get changed seemed harder to justify. Other sprint Penn’s athletic department. Players used to in shifts in a media room, because the programs were dropped. (That included, have to buy their own cleats and sweats; locker room was taken. most recently, Princeton, which was in now they have a recently renovated locker But, in some ways, the unglamorous the midst of a 106-game room and modern equipment. And after parts of sprint football—which is to say, when its program was discontinued in league membership dipped to as low as fi ve almost every part—made the whole jour- 2016—much to the chagrin of Wagner, following Princeton’s demise, Wagner ney even more rewarding for someone who, “pumpkin head” jokes aside, valued helped rally new teams to the CSFL, with who earned a part-time salary for much Penn’s rivalry with its fellow charter several smaller colleges joining mainstays of his time coaching two sports at Penn member and believed the Tigers’ pro- Army, Navy, Cornell, and Penn to create a while also teaching at Cherry Hill East. gram was being undercut by its own 10-team league with two divisions. And all of the assistants he’s had over athletic administration.) “I consider this team a bunch of survi- the past 50 years, most of whom arrive During Steve Bilsky’s term as athletic vors,” Wagner says. “We’ve survived for the team’s daily 6 p.m. practice at director in the 1990s, Wagner says “they money, gender, fi elds—and we’re still Franklin Field from their regular day questioned gender equity,” which led here. We’ve been around since 1931.” jobs, have tried to follow his lead. him to agree to limit his roster to 52 Before making his retirement decision, “There’s nobody like him,” says Mc- players (below the league maximum). Wagner—whose head coaching position Connell, the grizzled football man hold- Meanwhile, the sprint football sports was endowed in 2014—also made sure a ing back tears. “I’m very fortunate to board rushed to support. “Bilsky came succession plan was in place. That in- have had the opportunity to be around to us and said we’re going to have to cludes funding for a full-time assistant him, to have my family be around him. raise a shitload of money to keep this coach, a director of operations, and a new He’s just a great man.” Adds Harrell, also program going,” recalls Fein, the co-chair head coach who will be named, from his choking up: “He’s the nicest man I’ve of the board who notes they’ve since current staff , after the season. Along with ever met in my life. Loyalty is a two-way raised more than $2 million to endow Hitschler, his crop of assistant coaches street, and he’s loyal to everybody.” the sport. “I do a lot of fundraising in include former players Hubsher, Sam Wagner’s former players, even those Miami,” adds Fein, an attorney, “and this Biddle C’11, Mike Beamish EAS’15, and who’ve moved far away and might not is the easiest fundraising I’ve ever done.” Tom Console C’19. “It speaks to Wags’ vital- feel the same connection to Penn as they And that’s because of Wagner, who ity,” says Hubsher, “that all of the guys who once did, have the same kind of loyalty draws an “amazing amount of loyalty to were his peers started dropping one by toward him. “He’s somebody who oozes this program by alumni and other people one and he’s the last one standing. Every- leadership and dignity and integrity,” this program touched,” Wolfe says. Pires, one he’s got left are people he’s coached.” says Tim Ortman C’01, who holds sev- another board member, adds that he’s Though he’s retiring, Wagner will re- eral program rushing records. “For 50 never heard Wagner specifi cally ask for main around the team, as a board mem- years, he’s tied everyone together. I hope money, noting that it “just organically ber and head coach emeritus. He still he stays in the same role keeping all of happens” through his presence. “He’s just hopes to look in on the alumni mentor- the alums intertwined. I think he’s the a uniting type of person. I don’t know ing program he calls “one of the better only man who can do it.” what it is but people are drawn to him,” ones in the whole school” and plans to “Coach Wagner’s legacy is going to be says Pires, who, like many former players, attend every alumni game, whether in that he’s kept this program here at the participated in phone-a-thons in college. pads or not. “He left this ripple eff ect on University of Pennsylvania,” says Furda, “You’re a kid calling these donors and all alumni,” Pires says. “And it’s up to us who proudly displays several pieces of alumni, disturbing their dinner. And all to carry on his legacy.” sprint football memorabilia in his offi ce. you have to do is drop Coach Wagner’s Perhaps the only thing Wagner might “Now it’s time for another coach. But name, and all of a sudden they’re like, not miss are the Friday bus trips to and this is always going to be Bill Wagner’s ‘What do you need? I’ll write you a check. from Cornell without the luxury of a hotel program.” How’s the team doing?’” stay—especially the one in which the

Nov| Dec 2019 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 47