Remembering A Great Coach, But Greater Friend

By Connect Mason Reporter Mike Foss

"Use your left foot."

Those were the words of a skinny, grinning Englishman who towered over my little four-year-old frame. Below my knees was a miniature soccer ball. Above me was Gordon Bradley.

This is my first memory of the George Mason coach. My father worked in GMU's sports information department at the time and it was not a rare occasion that he would bring me to work with him. For the next few moments Coach Bradley passed the ball with me, encouraging my toddling left foot. After a while my dad ushered me from the coach but not before Coach Bradley called out, "He has a spot on the roster when he's ready."

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Gordon Bradley was clairvoyant. Fifteen years later, that moment may very well have defined my existence as a soccer player. Now I am playing for GMU and am one of the few naturally left-footed players on our team. It has been a long and tumultuous journey up the soccer ladder for me, but through it all Gordon Bradley followed me directly and indirectly.

As a seven-year-old, I enjoyed my best offensive performance of my career: 57 goals in six games. Coach Bradley was on hand to witness my final match where I netted 10 of those 57. After the game, Coach Bradley walked over to me. "You sure know how to dribble Michael." He said, "But soccer isn't always about scoring goals. Pele was the greatest passer of the ball I have ever seen." I stopped drinking my post-match Hi-C to listen to him. "The greatest players are also the greatest passers." Coach Bradley grinned.

On his advice I began to pass. With each pass I moved further away from the goal and closer to becoming the high-level player Coach Bradley wanted and expected me to be. Coach Bradley faded into the woodwork during my junior high and high school years. But his legacy followed me. At fourteen, I received my first red-card ejection in an indoor game refereed by Adam Wilson. Wilson played for Coach Bradley in the mid-90s. Wilson is a great player but an abomination to officials worldwide.

Ed Beach, another of Coach Bradley's players, coached my club team up until high school. When I was selected to the Virginia Olympic Development pool, I was coached by Greg Franske, a legendary GMU defender and, of course, a Gordon Bradley product. When I committed to George Mason in March of last year, the first thing my mother said to me was, "Gordon Bradley will be so proud." But unfortunately, Alzheimer's disease had crept into the mind of Coach Bradley and my parents never had the chance to tell him his advice to that blond-haired four-year-old panned out.

This past weekend, the men's soccer team held our annual Hall of Fame induction ceremony where we honored Coach Bradley's son, Doug, for his contribution to George Mason soccer. Former players mingled with current players and every conversation I had with my predecessors always related back to Gordon Bradley, who had recently moved to a care center to better fight his battle with Alzheimer's. Each player told me of the impact Coach Bradley had on him. How competitive he was, how passionately and professionally he lived every second. Each player was adamant that while Alzheimer's had claimed the man's mind, nothing could overcome Gordon Bradley's soul. I cannot recall who it was but one of the alumni told me, "You should visit him. Let him know you're there. He needs us now."

I promised to visit Coach Bradley. It was an afternoon of posturing and grand toasts and that was mine. It turns out I was simply posturing. This morning my father called me. "Gordon Bradley died," he said.

When I got that phone call, I was getting dressed in the locker room after weightlifting with Rich Stone who is a teammate of mine. Instead of getting my books and leaving, I put back on my practice gear and tied my cleats. "Where are you going?" Stone asked. "I'm using my left foot," I replied as I walked onto the field that will undoubtedly bear the name of Gordon Bradley come opening day 2008.

Soccer fans will lament the loss of one of the game's finest coaches and players. The Bradley family will mourn the loss of a husband, father and grandfather. Former teammates will grieve over the loss of their mentor and coach. I will cry for a loss of inspiration and a friend. But tomorrow I will smile as I step back onto the field.

It's what Gordon would do.