Wake Forest Athletics
100% Cotten: Goodbye, George Edward
8/6/2007 12:00:00 AM | Men's Basketball
Aug. 6, 2007
All in all, 1950 was a very good year. I mean it must have been. There were only 2.5 billion people on the earth then. You could mail a letter for less than a nickel, and Charles Schulz had just introduced a comic strip named Peanuts.
And God gave us George Edward Prosser.
God took him back last week, way too soon if you ask me. But God didn't have to ask me, and His ways are not my ways. I will simply trust in His sovereignty on this one. Coach Dino Gaudio, in his beautiful eulogy at Coach's funeral mass, said that "God must have needed a coach in heaven...and He came and got the very best one."
And so we are left with our personal memories of the man who gave us all he had for six years. Skip was a piece of work if there ever was one. He was multi-layered and could approach you from many different angles. If you knew him well, you would do yourself a favor to be on alert lest you get caught off guard and zinged right between the eyes. All in fun of course, and Skip usually had the last word.
But the real beauty of this man was that, if you did not know him well, he met you right where you were. Prince or pauper. He was your guy.
He was good to me. Very good. He never turned me down when I requested an interview. He would often reply, "I'm here for you Voice, I'm here for you."
And he always was.
He always called me "Voice" unless we were on the air together or in public. Since most everyone called him Skip or Coach, privately I usually referred to him as George Edward. He usually smiled at that. I think he at least appreciated the effort. Maybe he just liked hearing his given name from time to time. I couldn't evenly match wits with him, though. He was too smart for me. But I didn't back down from him. He might zing me, but he knew I'd usually fire back. And as I think about those times now I realize they were always when we were alone together. Never in public did he get a laugh at my expense that would embarrass or demean. That would have been out of character. That was not Skip.
For the first five years of his tenure at Wake Forest my office was just down the hall from his near the staff locker room. He would often stick his head in with a word of encouragement or sit down to get my take on the football Deacs. Sometimes he would even ask me about his team, listen to what I had to say, smile and say, "Why am I asking you? You're a football guy." "So are you,' I'd fire back. Back would come, "You've got me pegged Voice, you've got me pegged."
And off he would go, making the rounds, in search of someone else.
I remember the first and last conversation I ever had with him. The first was at his press conference when he was introduced as Wake's new coach. I was excited, remembering how hard his Xavier team had played when it beat the Deacs during an NIT game in Cincinnati. I introduced myself and told him my name. "The Voice of the Demon Deacons," he stated matter of factly. He had done some major homework to know who I was. Needless to say I was hooked.
The last conversation I had with Coach was just about two weeks ago. We talked of similar trips we had made to the Middle East over the last few months - his to Kuwait to coach basketball and mine to Jordan to coach Little Leaguers. We talked about how quickly football was approaching, and as we ended our conversation and on his way back to his office with his back to me he shouted, "Don't forget about us Voice - don't forget about us."
That was code for get ready, football season doesn't last that long.
And really, how could one ever forget about Skip Prosser. And that's the last time I ever saw him.
I know George Edward is in heaven right now, and I will see him again. And I will think of him often until that day.
Indeed, 1950 was a very good year.
