Letter to the Editor: The Immortal Coach Garrow, from your son

Every person has two deaths.

The first is when they are buried in the ground.

The second is the last time that someone says their name.

This is a quote that has stuck with me ever since I read it. It came from a professional athlete who had just lost his brother to a sudden death a couple years ago. It immediately reminded me of my dad. Everywhere I go, I run into people that have a story about him. The more I hear the more I realize that people were right when they said that coaching was a tiny portion of who he was.

I’ve always known him as Dad. And if I’m being really honest, I was not the easiest son. I was rebellious and thought I knew what was right. It wasn’t until I left for USF that we really started to get close. He turned out to be more than just my dad. He was my biggest role model and one of my best friends. He was just the best.

My redshirt freshman year, we went down to Oklahoma City for an OKC Thunder game for his birthday. This was when he was getting into his “foodie” stage. On the way down, we stopped in a very low-income area in Kansas City. The whole time on the way down, he was talking about finding the best BBQ spot. We pulled into a very low-income area once we got into the city. I was freaking out a little bit, but I remember him saying something like, “Don’t worry, this is when you know you are in the best spot for food.” We walked into this hole in the wall BBQ joint and it was like a scene from a movie. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at us. We were the only ones that were white in the whole place. But he wasn’t even phased, he walked right in, grabbed a table and was ready to eat. Makes me die laughing just thinking about it now.

The year I turned 21, Dad took my cousin, Matt, and I to Chicago for a boys’ trip. Once again, the whole drive there, he’s looking for the best food spots. He wanted to find the best Chicago Dog. The next day, he tells us that he found one and that we’d have to walk a mile to get there. Matt and I thought that that was no big deal. We started walking…1 mile… 2 miles… 3 miles… Every once in a while, I’d say, “This is way longer than a mile.” He’d respond, “It’s just a little further.” Then a little later, “A little bit longer.” Well, it felt like 10 miles later and we finally landed at the spot. He told me later that if I would’ve known the distance, we would have put up a fuss – haha! Anything for a good food spot.After I graduated, I had a rough time finding a job that I liked. I worked as a recruiter for a while, but the industry was not for me. Building relationships has always been one of the most important lessons I’ve been taught and it seemed as though that wasn’t important to the company I worked for. As I struggled at that job, my dad would check in almost daily. He would never tell me he was worried about me, but I could tell. As football season approached, I had some interest in coaching football. I had applied for some jobs but still wanted to coach. So, I asked him if I could coach with him in Brandon. He said no within seconds. No hesitation. It might surprise some of you, but not me. I was pretty upset, but he said that we would argue a lot and I wouldn’t see eye-to-eye with him. What he didn’t know was the amount of respect I had gained for him as a coach. It made me happier than ever to go watch him build smaller rosters of talent in Brandon, then go beat up on the big Sioux Falls schools. He started winning championships. Midco Sports was tracking his beard length; they called it the “Beard-o-Meter.” He was like Brandon’s own rock star.

He was in his prime… that’s what I always told my wife anyway. He was in such a different stage of life. He was winning state championships. He bought a Jeep. He started his own Jeep club.

He became obsessed with smoking meat (he was so good at it that he became an Instagram influencer in the BBQ community). He created a couple burgers at Tailgators in Brandon that are still on the menu to this day! Like I said, in his prime.

So, yeah. The worst part of it was that he was taken right in his prime.

However, I hope the quote at the beginning was right. That people still share his stories and remember him.

I’ll leave you with this. Don’t take time for granted. Especially with the ones you are closest with because that’s how he was. One of my favorite memories of him was at Swamp Daddy’s downtown. They were having a crawfish boil. It was a new experience for both of us. I swear we were there for three hours. We watched them boil the crawfish. We learned how to peel their shells and we were just hanging out. He had the biggest smile on his face. We would ‘cheers’ each crawfish before we ate it. Then, he wanted more time together. So, we did something else he loved: we went to a brewery. The time just didn’t end. He was soaking it in. He wasn’t taking life for granted.

I promise I won’t take my life for granted. We won’t stop telling your story.

Your son, AJ