The first time I laid eyes on Dwight Smith, he was coaching his Karns High baseball team against Doyle High’s team. Dwight had just blown a valve over a call made by the umpire, and his loud voice informed the entire community that the ump couldn’t find his behind with both hands and never made a correct call in his life. I asked the Doyle coach, Bobby Campbell, who in the world that maniac was. Her replied,” Oh, that’s just the Chief.” Little did I know that in a few short years I would be teaching with the Chief. We became close friends, and I grew to love the guy.
Over the years, Dwight was one of the most successful baseball coaches in the area. His friend and nemesis, Bud Bales, always seemed to have the right answers to beat Karns teams. He kept up with his record and could tell anyone how many victories he’d accumulated.
Players have bunches of stories about the Chief, and each one is hilarious. One related how Dwight loved to talk. He could discuss any part of the game of baseball, and over the years, he actually did. His explanations lasted forever. He’d have his players sit against a wall and begin. Boys began nodding off; they squirmed and zoned out. Dwight wasn’t aware of anything because he was in a zone.
My son was one of hundreds of boys who attended Dwight’s summer baseball camp. Dallas is now 38 now, but he still remembers verbatim the instructions that Dwight gave for throwing a curve ball. He loved that coach and wanted to play for him in high school.
The coach never had any problem saying exactly what was on his mind. My wife tells me that I have no filter; Chief didn’t have one or anything to hold one. I watched at lunch one day at school as he made a statement to a football coach. The man disagreed with him, and before I could blink, the two were ready to fight. No, Dwight never backed down. At the same time, he had a great sense of humor, and his laugh was contagious. He teased and taunted others, and he never minded others doing the same to him.
A couple of years ago, the Chief was inducted into the Tennessee high school hall of fame. Players who were near my age showed up, as well as younger men to watch a man whom they admired be rewarded for so many years of devotion to the game.
A Facebook post two days ago informed us that Dwight’s illness had worsened. He spent time in the hospital, and his son Shane had moved him to a nursing home. We were told that the time was short to see Dwight, who now lives in Illinois. Because that kind of trip is impossible for most of us, we’ve replied to the post with prayers and well wishes.
The man whom I thought was a maniac the first time I saw him has been a good, close friend. His time with us is limited, and I want all to know what a good, decent man and coach Dwight Smith is. There will never be another Chief, nor should there be. My friend, know that you are loved and appreciated by your players and friends. You will forever be remembered as one of the best parts of the game of baseball.
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