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Photo by: Kevin Glackmeyer
Logan Pierce: Honesty, Integrity, Intuition, Love... That's my dad
6/9/2015 10:11:00 AM | Baseball
As I try to capture my thoughts about my dad, I am reminded of so many ways he has influenced not only my life, but the lives of many others as well. My dad, who just completed his last year of coaching at Troy University, has had arguably the most successful career in collegiate baseball when it's all said and done. He has been inducted into the Alabama Baseball Coaches Association Hall of Fame, won numerous championships, set countless records, and developed several All-Americans. All the accolades aside, I would like to tell you why he is, was, and always will be the best father and coach I will ever know.
Honesty. The year was 2008, and I was going into my senior year of high school at Charles Henderson. We worked and worked and worked some more. Coach Brad Phillips, now the pitching coach at Troy, made me hate running. I dreaded going to fall and winter workouts every day, but I knew in my heart he was making me better. Still, my best at that time wasn't quite worthy of a Division I scholarship. Dad and I sat down one day to discuss my future, and I remember him telling me, "Logan, I'm going to be honest with you. Starting in the 2009 season, the NCAA will minimize the roster to 35 players (at that time Troy carried around 50), and I don't think it is in your best interest to come to Troy out of high school. But, if you do what you're supposed to and put up solid numbers, then we can talk about bringing you here after a year." My heart sank. So many questions were entering my mind, but I couldn't speak. What? I'm not good enough? That's what you're telling me? Finally I said, "Well, okay, what do you suggest I do?" I mean, heck, I thought my future was pretty set until this atom bomb was dropped on me. Dad suggested junior college. I decided that Shelton State was the place for me. I knew both coaches because they had coached with Dad in the past, I felt comfortable they were going to treat me right, and of course, being in Tuscaloosa didn't hurt. I can't lie – I set myself back by showing up out of shape and not ready to prove that I deserved to be an everyday player at the junior college level, much less a Division I caliber player. Off the field, I struggled and made some mistakes. On the field, after much humbling and ego-checking (thanks to Coach Bobby Sprowl), I earned about 100 at-bats that year and put up solid numbers on an Alabama JUCO State Championship team that played for the JUCO National Championship.
So, back to my point about honesty, my dad wasn't going to sugarcoat my abilities or tell me I'm something I'm not. He gave me the brutal, yet honest truth about where I stood and what he thought was best for me. The lesson here – if you are a coach or a dad who is coaching your sons or daughters, be honest with them. Don't fabricate the truth to make them feel better about themselves (at least not all the time). Looking back, going to junior college was the best decision I ever made, and it all started with honesty.Â
Integrity. Running a first-class program is a priority for the Troy baseball coaching staff. I've had the privilege of meeting many people who have offered positive, uplifting words about the program my dad and his staff have run for many years. In the spring of my sophomore year of college, Dad and I agreed that I would redshirt to avoid losing a year of eligibility as I worked to continue to improve myself on and off the field. It was clear that I had work to do. Coaches routinely ask professors to fill out progress reports on their players so they can monitor their performance in the classroom (you know where this is going). The reports revealed that my grades were not anywhere close to what they should have been, especially during a redshirt season. Then one day I received text messages from my roommates who were traveling to a game, explaining that they were scared for me, and they'd never seen my dad so angry. I arrived at the field, scared to death, only to find all my things placed in a box – all of my shirts, shoes, bats, gloves, name tag, everything. Dad had put his foot down in a big way. Long, long story short, I was failing two courses. I studied my tail off for two months and somehow managed to make C's in both.
Talk about integrity. Think about your own dad taking away what you love most in life because of your grades. Looking back, I should have thanked Dad every single day for that. It couldn't have been easy for him – making a difficult choice to show me how much he loved me by making me learn what it means to have the discipline and determination to do the things required of a student-athlete. I am so blessed to have been a part of such an integrity-driven program in my years at Troy. Another lesson, this one for kids – get your work done in the classroom.  Playing the dumb jock or the class clown only lasts so long. You will receive so much more out of this life if you are committed to your schoolwork, I promise you.
Intuition. If there were one trait I could describe about my dad during a game, it's his uncanny ability to analyze and evaluate situations on the fly. He possesses remarkable intuition – the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning. Dad can make assessments and decisions that give his team the best chance to succeed, sometimes in an instant.
This is by far the best example I could give: We're playing an average Arkansas State team at home on a Saturday after beating them on Friday. We're in the middle of playing for a conference championship, while they are playing for a higher seed in the conference tournament. The score is 3-2 Arkansas State in the bottom of the ninth. There are two outs, and we have Clay Holcomb at first, easily the fastest runner on the team. They have their best relief pitcher on the mound, and he's been solid for them throughout the season. We have multiple guys with plenty of at-bats all year warming up, ready to pinch hit. I am sitting at the end of the bench right behind Dad when he says, "Hancock, grab a bat. Just hit the fastball man, hit the fastball." WHAT? Hancock? Huh? Who? Imagine a dugout full of guys in total shock. No offense to Justin Hancock, but he'd had only a handful of at-bats all year. He wasn't even getting loose to hit, and yet he's going to battle for us in the biggest spot so far that year. I'm looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, and no one in the dugout is able to move. So here we go, championship on the line, and we're putting our faith in Hancock. I am so nervous I can't breathe when all of a sudden… BAM! He hits the hardest line drive off the wall I've ever seen. Holcomb's rounding second, the left fielder is fumbling the ball, no way Coach Smartt is sending him, oh my gosh, he's sending him! Holcomb rounds third, it's going to be close and he scores! We just tied the game! What just happened? I don't know, but we scored! After all that drama, we go on to win the game 4-3. But, my gosh, Dad, what were you thinking? To this day, I still don't think he can truly tell you beyond this: He had that feeling. Hancock was the guy. Dad went with his gut, and he was right. If that isn't intuition, I don't know what is.
Love. Last, but certainly not least, love is the most important thing a father can give his children. When Dad accepted the job at Troy, I had no idea why. To be honest, I never knew Troy had a university. I thought it was just a town we went through to get to the beach or to my grandma's house. But Dad knew why Troy was the right place for our family. He knew it was going to better our lives. He knew it was a great opportunity, not only for him, but for all of us. He even had to leave all of us behind for a while – my brother and sister wanted to graduate from Huntsville High with the friends they had grown up with, so my mother, being the wonderful and caring person she is, stayed behind with the three of us while Dad pursued his new opportunity in Division I coaching. I didn't understand, and to be honest, I was pretty mad about the whole thing. Dad and I were buddies since the day I came home from the hospital. We had an unspoken bond, especially since we shared a love of baseball. I loved every single minute I got to spend with Dad, and I couldn't understand why I was left with no one around to hit with or play catch in the back yard, etc. So when we joined Dad in Troy before I started high school, it was the start of an incredible blessing. Many people have asked me whether it is tough to play for your dad. I couldn't imagine playing for anyone else. Did we have some tough times? Absolutely. Did we disagree on some things? Only because I thought I was right, but let's face it, Dad was and is always right.
Every family faces challenging times, and when we experienced some rough patches a few years ago, I was blessed to watch my parents grow in faith together. The transformation was an amazing and inspirational experience for all of us kids. My understanding of the Lord's steadfast and unfailing love for each of us deepened as I witnessed my earthly father's genuine love for his family.Â
There is no way I would be the person I am today without my dad, and I give him all the credit in the world for the success I've enjoyed. If you know him at all, you know his response: He'd say he doesn't deserve any credit. That's just the kind of person he is – no spotlight, no recognition, no ego. He wins his 800th career game and says, "All the credit goes to you guys and I appreciate your hard work and dedication, so get some rest and be ready to go tomorrow." One of my best friends, a teacher and former All-American, recently said to me, "It's amazing how he genuinely cares how you are doing when you get done playing. He doesn't just ask to ask, he really cares about you and wants to know if there's any way he can be helpful in your life." That's amazing to me.
It was a true blessing to be able to join Dad as an assistant coach for his final season at Troy. It was gratifying to see the tributes offered by other teams and coaches on our home field and those of our opponents throughout the season. Particularly memorable was being on the field with Dad as he became Troy's winningest coach, surpassing the legendary Chase Riddle. True to form, Dad was gracious and appreciative, deftly shifting attention to the team and the game he loves.
Congratulations to an amazing coach and an even better father.
Â
Honesty. The year was 2008, and I was going into my senior year of high school at Charles Henderson. We worked and worked and worked some more. Coach Brad Phillips, now the pitching coach at Troy, made me hate running. I dreaded going to fall and winter workouts every day, but I knew in my heart he was making me better. Still, my best at that time wasn't quite worthy of a Division I scholarship. Dad and I sat down one day to discuss my future, and I remember him telling me, "Logan, I'm going to be honest with you. Starting in the 2009 season, the NCAA will minimize the roster to 35 players (at that time Troy carried around 50), and I don't think it is in your best interest to come to Troy out of high school. But, if you do what you're supposed to and put up solid numbers, then we can talk about bringing you here after a year." My heart sank. So many questions were entering my mind, but I couldn't speak. What? I'm not good enough? That's what you're telling me? Finally I said, "Well, okay, what do you suggest I do?" I mean, heck, I thought my future was pretty set until this atom bomb was dropped on me. Dad suggested junior college. I decided that Shelton State was the place for me. I knew both coaches because they had coached with Dad in the past, I felt comfortable they were going to treat me right, and of course, being in Tuscaloosa didn't hurt. I can't lie – I set myself back by showing up out of shape and not ready to prove that I deserved to be an everyday player at the junior college level, much less a Division I caliber player. Off the field, I struggled and made some mistakes. On the field, after much humbling and ego-checking (thanks to Coach Bobby Sprowl), I earned about 100 at-bats that year and put up solid numbers on an Alabama JUCO State Championship team that played for the JUCO National Championship.
So, back to my point about honesty, my dad wasn't going to sugarcoat my abilities or tell me I'm something I'm not. He gave me the brutal, yet honest truth about where I stood and what he thought was best for me. The lesson here – if you are a coach or a dad who is coaching your sons or daughters, be honest with them. Don't fabricate the truth to make them feel better about themselves (at least not all the time). Looking back, going to junior college was the best decision I ever made, and it all started with honesty.Â
Integrity. Running a first-class program is a priority for the Troy baseball coaching staff. I've had the privilege of meeting many people who have offered positive, uplifting words about the program my dad and his staff have run for many years. In the spring of my sophomore year of college, Dad and I agreed that I would redshirt to avoid losing a year of eligibility as I worked to continue to improve myself on and off the field. It was clear that I had work to do. Coaches routinely ask professors to fill out progress reports on their players so they can monitor their performance in the classroom (you know where this is going). The reports revealed that my grades were not anywhere close to what they should have been, especially during a redshirt season. Then one day I received text messages from my roommates who were traveling to a game, explaining that they were scared for me, and they'd never seen my dad so angry. I arrived at the field, scared to death, only to find all my things placed in a box – all of my shirts, shoes, bats, gloves, name tag, everything. Dad had put his foot down in a big way. Long, long story short, I was failing two courses. I studied my tail off for two months and somehow managed to make C's in both.
Talk about integrity. Think about your own dad taking away what you love most in life because of your grades. Looking back, I should have thanked Dad every single day for that. It couldn't have been easy for him – making a difficult choice to show me how much he loved me by making me learn what it means to have the discipline and determination to do the things required of a student-athlete. I am so blessed to have been a part of such an integrity-driven program in my years at Troy. Another lesson, this one for kids – get your work done in the classroom.  Playing the dumb jock or the class clown only lasts so long. You will receive so much more out of this life if you are committed to your schoolwork, I promise you.
Intuition. If there were one trait I could describe about my dad during a game, it's his uncanny ability to analyze and evaluate situations on the fly. He possesses remarkable intuition – the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning. Dad can make assessments and decisions that give his team the best chance to succeed, sometimes in an instant.
This is by far the best example I could give: We're playing an average Arkansas State team at home on a Saturday after beating them on Friday. We're in the middle of playing for a conference championship, while they are playing for a higher seed in the conference tournament. The score is 3-2 Arkansas State in the bottom of the ninth. There are two outs, and we have Clay Holcomb at first, easily the fastest runner on the team. They have their best relief pitcher on the mound, and he's been solid for them throughout the season. We have multiple guys with plenty of at-bats all year warming up, ready to pinch hit. I am sitting at the end of the bench right behind Dad when he says, "Hancock, grab a bat. Just hit the fastball man, hit the fastball." WHAT? Hancock? Huh? Who? Imagine a dugout full of guys in total shock. No offense to Justin Hancock, but he'd had only a handful of at-bats all year. He wasn't even getting loose to hit, and yet he's going to battle for us in the biggest spot so far that year. I'm looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, and no one in the dugout is able to move. So here we go, championship on the line, and we're putting our faith in Hancock. I am so nervous I can't breathe when all of a sudden… BAM! He hits the hardest line drive off the wall I've ever seen. Holcomb's rounding second, the left fielder is fumbling the ball, no way Coach Smartt is sending him, oh my gosh, he's sending him! Holcomb rounds third, it's going to be close and he scores! We just tied the game! What just happened? I don't know, but we scored! After all that drama, we go on to win the game 4-3. But, my gosh, Dad, what were you thinking? To this day, I still don't think he can truly tell you beyond this: He had that feeling. Hancock was the guy. Dad went with his gut, and he was right. If that isn't intuition, I don't know what is.
Love. Last, but certainly not least, love is the most important thing a father can give his children. When Dad accepted the job at Troy, I had no idea why. To be honest, I never knew Troy had a university. I thought it was just a town we went through to get to the beach or to my grandma's house. But Dad knew why Troy was the right place for our family. He knew it was going to better our lives. He knew it was a great opportunity, not only for him, but for all of us. He even had to leave all of us behind for a while – my brother and sister wanted to graduate from Huntsville High with the friends they had grown up with, so my mother, being the wonderful and caring person she is, stayed behind with the three of us while Dad pursued his new opportunity in Division I coaching. I didn't understand, and to be honest, I was pretty mad about the whole thing. Dad and I were buddies since the day I came home from the hospital. We had an unspoken bond, especially since we shared a love of baseball. I loved every single minute I got to spend with Dad, and I couldn't understand why I was left with no one around to hit with or play catch in the back yard, etc. So when we joined Dad in Troy before I started high school, it was the start of an incredible blessing. Many people have asked me whether it is tough to play for your dad. I couldn't imagine playing for anyone else. Did we have some tough times? Absolutely. Did we disagree on some things? Only because I thought I was right, but let's face it, Dad was and is always right.
Every family faces challenging times, and when we experienced some rough patches a few years ago, I was blessed to watch my parents grow in faith together. The transformation was an amazing and inspirational experience for all of us kids. My understanding of the Lord's steadfast and unfailing love for each of us deepened as I witnessed my earthly father's genuine love for his family.Â
There is no way I would be the person I am today without my dad, and I give him all the credit in the world for the success I've enjoyed. If you know him at all, you know his response: He'd say he doesn't deserve any credit. That's just the kind of person he is – no spotlight, no recognition, no ego. He wins his 800th career game and says, "All the credit goes to you guys and I appreciate your hard work and dedication, so get some rest and be ready to go tomorrow." One of my best friends, a teacher and former All-American, recently said to me, "It's amazing how he genuinely cares how you are doing when you get done playing. He doesn't just ask to ask, he really cares about you and wants to know if there's any way he can be helpful in your life." That's amazing to me.
It was a true blessing to be able to join Dad as an assistant coach for his final season at Troy. It was gratifying to see the tributes offered by other teams and coaches on our home field and those of our opponents throughout the season. Particularly memorable was being on the field with Dad as he became Troy's winningest coach, surpassing the legendary Chase Riddle. True to form, Dad was gracious and appreciative, deftly shifting attention to the team and the game he loves.
Congratulations to an amazing coach and an even better father.
Â
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