Donnie Lockard's message lingers after legendary Clinton basketball coach's death

CLINTON — Judging the buy-in factor for a bunch of high school kids can be difficult.

Who got the message? Who missed the boat?

A few weeks ago, Chris Lockard got a pretty good idea that his dad’s message – as Clinton High School basketball coach from 1971-2000 – hadn’t fallen on deaf ears.

Donnie Lockard didn’t get to be an Anderson County and East Tennessee coaching legend with X’s and O’s. Sure, fundamentals and strategy have their place in the foundation of a program. But when it comes to making it solid and cohesive, the bonding agents are family and commitment.

After Donnie died May 23 at 73, Chris saw the extent of the buy-in.

Father-son tandem

Chris, 48, was a point guard for his dad and graduated in 1988. He joined Donnie’s coaching staff four years before he took over as interim head coach for the 2000-01 season when Donnie had major back surgery.

That next year, Chris took the helm.

From father to son, the message to the players has been consistent.

“I remember, when I was hired to take over, we sat down by the (Clinch River) eating some (hamburgers) and my dad (who won 642 games) was talking about his philosophy,” Chris said. “We weren’t talking about offense or defense; it was more how he approached every day.”

Donnie’s philosophy had three major tenets: Your teammates are your family; competition includes failure, learn from it; what you do next is important.

Those were effective in basketball and life.

“You don’t notice it til you get older, but my dad did something in every practice that forced teammates to rely on each other,” Chris said. “Now, it’s like it was back then. There is resistance, there is reluctance, but you keep pushing it every day til it’s proven. It’s hard to get that buy-in.”

Firsts will be difficult

The Lockard family received friends and mourners for five hours after Donnie died. Chris said he got somewhere between 200 and 300 texts from friends and former players who couldn’t make the service.

The day after Donnie died, Chris retreated to an empty gym to reflect – a gym that was named in Donnie’s honor in 2002. Half a trophy case in the hallway is filled with Donnie’s honors.

“I spent half my life here,” Chris said. “It was comforting to be here.”

Still, there’s a wound that is fresh. Gone are the days when Chris and Donnie would be consumed with game film until all hours of the night – every night.

“We had some (summer) camp games the other day,” Chris said. “Afterward, out of habit, I went to call him to tell him how we did. Later, for the first time, I had to watch film from the game by myself.”

Chris is prepared for the struggles ahead. Firsts will be difficult. Sunday will be his first Father’s Day without his dad.

“Even when I was little, we would spend Father’s Day together at basketball camps,” Chris said. “I’ve been trying to not even think of that coming up.”

Uplifting experience

Shortly after that major surgery for a degenerative back issue, Donnie found himself in a scooter or wheelchair. That didn’t keep him from being a fixture at the Dragon games. He wasn’t able to get out the past couple of years, which is why he and Chris would dissect the film from every game daily.

It was a unique but uplifting experience for both. In the four years when Chris was on Donnie’s staff, Clinton was 118-11. The only beef they had came the season Chris was the interim boss.

“I thought those (24) wins that season should have been mine,” Chris, who has 317 of his own, said with a smile. “Dad said, ‘No way.’ They were his.”

No problem. Chris would gladly give all of his away for another chance to watch some film together.

And to let Donnie know his message had been received.