Len Dugger Personified the Word ‘We’
On March 19, 2003, I walked toward Murphy Center on the campus of Middle Tennessee State University on a cool winter evening. From behind me, I heard someone call out my name.
When I turned and said hello, the person said, “Hey, we aren’t ghosts.”
I had no clue what he was talking about.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The man said, “The 1983 team. We’re still around. Don’t forget about us.”
Little did I know that the chance encounter at the state basketball tournament would be the first step in turning a working relationship into a friendship.
The man was Len Dugger, and he had a good point. Yes, the 2003 Elizabethton team was enjoying a special season. But another team from 20 years earlier shouldn’t have been forgotten.
It seems strange to think back to that day. Len — who passed away this week at the age of 73 — had been out of the game for almost a decade, but people still talked about how good a coach he was.
Despite not having a team to coach in those years, he didn’t stop giving his time. He worked with a special group of seventh-grade girls basketball players in 2002. Perhaps that played a role in getting into coaching girls.
When the Lady Cyclones needed a coach a few years later, I was part of a large group of people who encouraged him to give it a try. I had two daughters on that team, which had high hopes for the season.
When that season came to a close, I experienced one of the most deeply honest interview answers I had heard in almost four decades as a sports writer. The Lady Cyclones lost a close game to Stone Memorial in the sectional during Len’s first season as a girls’ head coach. I asked him after the game if he ever thought he could take the team that close to the state tournament.
Len said, “I prayed and asked God to open a door for me this summer, and then this opportunity came up to coach these girls. And I thought God sent me to help them. But I was totally wrong. God sent me so they could help me.”
With those words, Len paved the road to his future. Len poured his heart into the program. He coached harder — and maybe better — than ever before. He led the Lady Cyclones to the state tournament the next season, getting a taste of the success he could have with the girls’ program.
And in 2014, he realized a dream he thought may have been lost in the heartbreaking boys semifinal loss in 1983. Len guided the Lady Cyclones to the Class AA state championship.
But if you think about Len Dugger and the only thing that comes to your mind is basketball, you missed a great man. He had fiercely loyal friends. When the Lady Cyclones played, there were people in the gym who attended because they wanted to support him.
I stayed in touch with Len after he got out of coaching the second time. I occasionally had lunch with him and Harry Farthing. Every once in a while, Len called and said, “You haven’t forgotten about me, have you?” That was his way of saying, “Hey, I miss you guys. Let’s catch up and talk.”
Len, Harry, and I got together for lunch at Cranberries in Johnson City back in March. Len said he hadn’t been to the restaurant before. But before we finished eating, an older lady came up and talked to him. I don’t remember any time when I talked with Len in public when somebody didn’t come up and say hi to him. Len had many friends.
Len was one of the best coaches in Northeast Tennessee history. He proved he could win with the boys and the girls. He worked his players hard, but they bought in.
When it became clear Len was taking over the girls’ program in 2007, I remember another coach telling me what his teams would look like. That coach said they will be so fundamentally sound that they will look like robots. He meant that as a supreme compliment. Len left no small detail out of the equation. His teams were always prepared. If you wanted to beat him in a big game, you'd better be well prepared and defend like crazy. That’s what Len’s teams did.
I talked to Len often after big victories. And without fail, he thoughtfully chose his words. He didn’t boast. Instead, he found ways to include people. Consider this comment after the state championship:
“For me personally, this is for every kid who ever played for me — and for the assistant coaches. I appreciate everybody.”
In his greatest coaching moment, all Len wanted to do was share the glory. He wanted to wrap his arms around as many people as they could hold. Len Dugger personified the word “we.”
And if you ever heard Len say to you, “Hey, buddy,” you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Basketball meant a lot to Len. But family and relationships meant more.
