The Unlikely Legend Aft er a staggering 50 years guiding Penn’s oft -overlooked sprint football team, Bill Wagner decides to step down—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-sport 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 baseball, 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 sports 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 quarterback 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 touch- 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 end zone 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 touchdowns). 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.