Remembering Byrd’s boys’ lacrosse coach

In just a few more weeks, I’ll be back up in my normal football routine of preparing for Byrd games. For those of you who don’t read my column on a regular basis, I am the “Voice of the Byrd Yellow Jackets.” I’ve been privileged enough to be entering my 16th year behind the microphone calling Byrd football games on the radio.

I’m usually getting really red up about the season and the prospect of another successful season for the Jackets. However, this year, my temperament is a bit tepid. I’m still saddened by the unexpected passing of my friend Karl Mitchell – That’s Karl with a “K” because it sounds better, as he used to say.

Most knew Karl as the ery coach of Byrd’s boys’ lacrosse team. He was also the man who was responsible for bringing lacrosse to the area. For a while the local schools played for the “Mitchell Kup” (I misspelled it on purpose. Karl would’ve liked it that way). I always like to go a step further and say he brought it to the entire state of Louisiana because the sport didn’t truly grow statewide until after it was thriving here in Northwest Louisiana. And that can be traced back to one man – Karl Mitchell.

Karl was also well-known for working at Edward Jones, playing in the band “The Blues Brokers” and for him and his lovely wife, Nia’s, marriage encounter work at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. Besides all of the aforementioned activities, I got to know Karl as my sideline reporter and color commentator for a few seasons of Byrd football.

I was introduced to Karl by our mutual friend Archer Frierson. At the time, Archer was my color commentator, or expert analyst, as he liked to boast. Karl would always provide us with some very interesting and unique sideline commentary. He was especially fond of trying to re up Byrd’s student section known as “The Hive.” (For the record, I know Yellow Jackets live in nests not hives, but what sounds cooler?) Karl would step into the booth and brought his gregarious personality and unique perspective to our broadcasts.

After the rst or second game of season, Karl decided he didn’t care for the bumper music that our board operator played when we came out of a break and back to the action. I remember Karl asking the radio station if they had the song “Sur n’ Bird” by the Trashmen. Of course they didn’t, so Karl goes out and nds it and plays it on the air as we come out of breaks. The song, which came out in 1963, was more recently popularized on the animated show “Family Guy.” If you’ve ever heard “Sur n’ Bird” – aka “Bbbbbbird, Bird, Bird, Bird is the word!” – then you know how it easily becomes one of those songs that gets stuck in your head and can’t get rid of, plus it makes you just want to dance. So, of course, looking like a couple of fools we would sing and dance coming in and out of breaks during our broadcasts.

Another story that I like to tell people about our time together is how Karl made it possible for me to interview Mike Pressler. Pressler was the Duke lacrosse coach at the time the national news story broke about Duke lacrosse players allegedly raping a stripper at a party. Pressler was forced to resign under threat by then-athletics director Joe Alleva, who is now the athletics director at LSU, and then – Duke President Richard Brodhead. The Duke administration canceled the remainder of the 2006 season. The case completely polarized the country much in the same way the recent Martin-Zimmerman case did.

Just months after his wrongful dismissal from Duke, I’m interviewing Pressler on a high school football broadcast in Shreveport – unbelievable! This was made possible because of my friend Karl.

That fateful Friday morning, Archer and I played phone tag, each missing calls a couple of times. As I was about to walk across the street back to my cubicle, we nally connected, and with his voice cracking, Archer uttered the words, “Karl died this morning!” At that moment, it was like I was suspended in time with the only discernible sound being Archer’s distraught voice. I thought, “This can’t be real! Karl’s only a few years older than me.” He then told me the details.

It was standing-room-only in St. Joseph’s Church the day of Karl’s funeral. Sitting in front of me in row after row were his current and former Byrd players as well as some of his young rec league players. I remember thinking how the choir, music and entire celebration seemed perfect. Then once the mass had ended, Nia climbed the steps to the pulpit and eloquently eulogized her husband who was lying in a cof n just a few feet away.

Nia made us laugh and cry as she told story after story about Karl and his “extravagant love.” She addressed their three children, his bandmates as well as his friends and colleagues. She reminded his former pupils to follow the pillars of strength and honor, which he preached and taught. I was completely amazed at the strength and courage of this woman who had just lost the love of her life.

I remember telling a friend, “It is one thing if we were in our 80s or 90s and we’d be burying our friends, but we’re not supposed to be burying our friends in our 40s.”

On my way home the next day as I passed the Byrd lacrosse practice eld, someone had painted “R.I.P. Coach Karl” and placed a single lacrosse stick on the wooden wall he had constructed. It made me tear up again.

There are times in our lives, even for eeting moments, when someone has touched us with love, joy, happiness and inspiration. Karl Mitchell did that for everyone who had the pleasure of knowing him.

Charlie Cavell may be reached at [email protected].