My first and only meeting with Coach Davey Maurer took place my freshman year at college. I was never an athlete, but Wittenberg University required all students to complete three PE credits, so I selected Beginning Golf, which, it turned out, Coach Maurer was teaching. At the time, I had no idea that I was literally in the presence of a legend. I was simply showing up hoping to learn something new. I actually had never gripped a club or played on a golf course. In fact, my only engagement with the sport was wondering why announcers whispered so much as my dad watched various tournaments on TV.

But there I was. In an old field house in 1990. During the university’s winter term. Learning from a coach who, I discovered years later, had inspired nearly 1,450 student-athletes in his 40-year career as a professor, administrator, and beloved coach for the college’s football, swimming, track & field, and golf teams before his passing on July 30, 2011 at age 79.

Beginning Golf as expected began with the basics. We first had to learn how to hold the club. I remember Coach Maurer helping each student come to terms with the awkwardness of the required hand positioning. Some caught on quickly or brought prior experience to the table. Others…ahem, me…seemed to take a scenic route of sorts as I struggled to nail the grip. But Coach Maurer never made me feel badly. He was patient, which, I learned, is equally as important as the perfecting the grip. His patience didn’t mean he let things slide, though. On the contrary, I saw his patience tested when one student, who didn’t take the class seriously, mouthed off. Another learning moment from the legend followed – show respect for others and demand it for yourself.

A few classes would pass before we were given the golf ball to place on our green practice tee. Each student lined up across the length of the gym, facing the intended target, in this case, a padded wall. Our goal was straightforward – connect the club face to the ball using the grip and proper swing style we had been taught. I watched as other students seemed to connect the two effortlessly. Swing after swing, the balls would sail toward the red-padded wall. 

But not mine. Every time my club seemed to go right over the ball, leaving it to mock me on its tiny tee. One time, the sheer “wind” of the swing made it dribble slightly off the tee, adding to what was an already embarrassing time. Three or four classes would pass with the same situation occurring. Coach Maurer would just keep working with me, though. It was almost as if he didn’t have it in him to let me fail. So I kept at it…and at it…and at it. Back then the semester lasted 10 weeks as part of a trimester system, with this one class meeting twice a week. I had to get this right before the term ended. 

With maybe 2-3 weeks left in the class, I continued to show up and do my best, gripping the club as directed, standing in the appropriate way, and swinging with sheer hope in my heart. Maybe this just wasn’t my thing. As an overachiever, that was hard to accept, but reality was smacking me in the face. I think Coach Maurer could see it, too, but he would just keep walking behind the group, checking our swings and sharing some favorite motivational phrases. He then stood by me and reminded me to relax. Just relax. Don’t overthink it. Don’t move your head. Keep it down. And so I breathed in, released the breath, looked at my watch to see if this class was nearing its end, and I swung.

And it sailed. Not only did it catch air, but it hit the padded wall with real authority. Coach Maurer saw it happen and screamed, “There you go, Karen!! There you GO! YES!”

I couldn’t believe it. I must have stood there, smiley widely, eyes beaming for what seemed like 10 minutes. I had done it. Finally.

The fact that I can still remember that swing with such clarity decades later shows the unsuspecting impact that Coach Maurer had on me. Our paths never really crossed much after that, and yet his one-credit class taught me so much about perseverance, confidence, and commitment. It also reaffirmed for me that coaching doesn’t just happen in competitive play. Coaching happens daily, in all fields, and it can change lives. 

As former football player and friend Steve Drongowski said at Coach Maurer’s memorial service on campus, Aug. 3, 2011: “He wasn’t a coach; he was the best teacher we ever had. Dave’s lessons didn’t have a clock on them. He taught all the time, all year, wherever he went and whenever he could.”

I know he taught me far more than how to connect a club with a small, dimpled ball.