A lot of people feel Earl Woods molded his son Tiger into a world-class golfer through a demanding regimen and an insistence on excellence. Earl later told everyone Tiger was more demanding of himself. For certain, though, the stern hand of a father has shaped the careers of many highly successful people in sports. Urban Meyer is no exception.
Growing up in Ashtabula, Ohio, Urban was encouraged to participate in sports and held to a high standard. More than once he was punished by his father Bud for a poor effort. Once he had to run home from a baseball game when he struck out for the final out with his team trailing. It wasn’t just about winning, however, because Bud Meyer simply had no tolerance for less than your best effort. And that wasn’t true in just sports. You’d better not bring home Cs on your report card, either.
At the same time, Bud Meyer was extremely supportive of his son and made it a point to attend every time Urban was playing a game of some kind.
Father and son Meyer remain close, thanks to this bond of sports. To this day, Urban often seeks the counsel of his father and has him at his side before and after every postseason title game. And, in turn, Urban has forged that same bond with his young son Nate.
Just last week in Cincinnati, Urban, Bud and Earle Bruce enjoyed a special three-hour dinner. Bruce, who hired Urban at Colorado State and was head coach at Ohio State when Meyer was a graduate assistant, is a another father figure for Urban, who once said of them: “If you cut them both open, you would find the same person inside.”
You might say it was a delayed celebration of sorts, because Bud got a token of appreciation for his part in Florida’s national championship: His own ring.
“It was one of the greatest three hours I’ve ever spent,” Urban boasted.
And it was also a special ceremony for the 77-year-old Bud, who took ill two years ago and underwent serious surgery, “but looks great and is doing great now,” according to his son.
“There’s not a day that I don’t think I’m blessed and fortunate,” said Urban. “And it all starts with the home. It was sometimes very, very hard. But when I was able to hand him that second national championship ring, it was my way of saying, ‘Hey, all that running and all that stuff – this is my way of saying thank you.’”
After all, Bud Meyer was his first mentor. And when it came to confidence in his son’s ability, Bud certainly lacked none. He is the biggest fan in America of Florida’s head football coach.
Two years ago while doing book research, I asked Bud about what he thought the future held for his son. This was after Florida had won the 2006 national championship – upon which Bud had said to Urban, “It’s about time!”
This was back when people were speculating about Urban’s long-term future, when and if he might leave coaching and if he had other schools in mind. What would Urban do?
“Oh,” said Bud, “I think he’ll win another national championship or two, and then after this contract maybe reevaluate whether he wants to take time away from coaching for a while.”
At the time, the idea that Urban might win another title—or two—sounded a little presumptuous. And later when I told Urban about it, he laughed and agreed that Bud may have been been a bit overly optimistic. (Urban also said he has no plans to leave Florida anytime soon).
As it turns out, he wasn’t. And the impact of Urban’s Dad is felt more than one way on the Florida Gators football team.
Nothing was more important in the formation of Urban’s coaching career, however, than the love and support he received for his dad.
Of all the things Urban learned from Bud, the thing that means most to him now is how his father made it a point to spend time with him and his sisters, Gigi and Erika. Whether it was communion or a ball game or a graduation, Bud was there. He and his wife Gisela once drove nine hours just to watch Urban’s Illinois State team play Indiana State. “And I was just the linebacker coach,” said Urban. “Then they got in the car, turned around and drove back home.”
Fatherhood plays a big role in Urban’s coaching style, to the point where he always tries to hire husbands and fathers. He believes assistant coaches and their wives are a team because they are expected to baby-sit the players they coach. And the coaches are ordered to stay tethered to the players to a point where they are told never to turn off their cell phones “or I will fire them.”
“I think that’s a major error,” Meyer said of assistant coaches cutting off access of players, “because sometimes those kids won’t tell you, but they look up to you as a father – because a lot of them don’t have fathers.”
Before he hires a staff member, said Urban, instead of talking about offensive or defensive schemes or techniques, he would rather discuss how they could get their players to play hard for them.
“And the only way you do that is for them to learn to trust their coaches,” said Urban. “And I think we’re better than most teams at getting players to trust us because we go out of our way to be around them.”
Urban is not afraid to use the “L” word, either, even though some people might feel it’s corny. He encourages genuine love between players, coach to player and player to coach. It is something else he experienced growing up in the house of Bud and Gisela Meyer.
The death of promising cornerback Avery Atkins three seasons ago had a profound impact on Urban. He began to realize that the rules of the mean streets had changed and so had the behavior of young people.
Urban and wife Shelley, a trained psychiatric nurse, had many discussions about the empty lives of young men who turned to drugs. They set out on a mission to change lives.
“You are talking about people’s lives and people’s souls,” said Meyer. “You are talking about somebody’s child and basically you are talking about one of our children. Here we are, telling our players that we love them. We’re real close to the players. And if some people saying that’s ‘corny,’ then I’d like to play those kinds of teams.”
Becoming a father figure for them and having his assistant coaches get even more involved has become as much a part of Gator football as tracking championships.
“Coach Meyer would rather turned the life of a young man around than win a football game,” Tim Tebow told me two years ago.
I wasn’t sure I believed him then—but, then, would Tim Tebow lie? No, and I do now.
Taking what he knew from a family atmosphere, Urban has created that same feeling with his staff and players – even to the point of having “Family Night” for dinner on Thursdays. All wives and children are encouraged to attend.
There is a limit, of course, of how many children a dad can look after. Bud Meyer only had three – Urban and his two sisters. Urban and his staff have 105 “children” and he has three of his own. So how can they possibly keep up?
“Well, that’s why we say we don’t have a lot of hobbies around here,” he said. “I don’t want to hear that you’re a scuba diver and you need two weeks to go away and do that. Or that you have to keep your golf handicap down to scratch. Those kinds of guys don’t apply here. Everybody in the country knows what we expect of our coaches.
“And being a dad, being a coach and being a husband – you’re about topped out. There’s not much else you can do and do it well.”
Which would be just fine with Bud Meyer, who always made a major investment in his kids. And taught his son the value of same.
Take advantage of the Gator Country Father’s Day Special and treat your Dad to his own membership for half price.
https://www.gatorcountry.com/football/article/give_the_perfect_fathers_day_gift/6558