Andy Young
The often-quoted Yogi Berra, who may have actually mouthed a few of the many memorable quips attributed to him over the years, died of natural causes a week ago. A beloved figure whose fame transcended his sport, he was one of the most unlikely-looking professional athletes ever.
The squat, swarthy, gnome-like Berra played for the nation’s most glamorous major league team in an era when baseball wasn’t just America’s nominal National Pastime, it was unquestionably the country’s favorite sport as well. A legitimate superstar who played for 14 pennant winners and 10 World Series championship teams in 17 seasons with the New York Yankees, Berra was a clutch performer with a deserved reputation as someone who would swing at any pitch he could reach. He was also a solid defensive catcher who was his league’s most valuable player three times.
Later on Berra managed two different teams to the 7th game of the World Series, and lived out the golden years of his remarkable life as the embodiment of all that is good and decent, a sort of walking good-will ambassador for both baseball and innate common sense. His was truly a Horatio Alger story: born to impoverished immigrant parents, Berra dropped out of school after the 8th grade, but earned a Purple Heart during the D-day invasion, became a beloved American icon, and ended up rich in every sense of the word.
Joe Morrone wasn’t as well known nationally as Berra, but he was every bit as significant. A passionate athlete in his youth, he grew up playing baseball, football, hockey, and basketball. He tried soccer and lacrosse at the University of Massachusetts, excelling at each to the point that he was hired to coach both sports at Middlebury (VT) College after graduating from UMass. Eleven successful seasons later Morrone was hired to take over the soccer program at the University of Connecticut in 1969. To say soccer was a minor sport at the time is a massive understatement. There was plenty of privacy for the few at UConn who went to the games, and as for the rest of the university community, those aware of the soccer’s existence viewed it with a sort of casual bemusement and/or disinterest, assuming they concerned themselves with it at all.
However, as with everything else he did in his life, Joe Morrone threw his heart and soul into changing that perception. In 1972 the Huskies qualified for the NCAA tournament, and repeated the feat in the five seasons that followed. Then after an off-year in 1977, Morrone’s machine went into high gear. After 19-win campaigns in 1978 and 1979, the team rolled to a 41-5-3 record over the next two seasons, which culminated in UConn’s first national championship of the NCAA tournament era in 1981. The team qualified for post-season play for 14 straight seasons (1978-1991), and when his 28-year tenure at UConn ended in 1996 Morrone had racked up 422 college coaching victories.
But Joe Morrone didn’t just win championships; he prepared his athletes for success in life. He also began building the foundation and infrastructure necessary to make soccer a true major sport. His unmatched work ethic and single-minded dedication comprise his biggest contribution to society in general and soccer in particular. Little more than a half-century after he first discovered the game, youth soccer participation levels have far surpassed Little League Baseball, Pop Warner Football, and youth basketball in many parts of the country, including this one. America’s interest in soccer has skyrocketed in the past half-century, and few are more responsible for that than the tireless, innovative Morrone, whose formation of the Connecticut Soccer School and co-founding of the Connecticut Junior Soccer Association served as models for similar programs that have sprung up around the country.
In the last two decades of his life Morrone was every bit as dedicated to being a father, grandfather, and great-grandfather as he had been to coaching, a fact attested to by the touching and eloquent eulogies delivered by two of his children this past Saturday. Even though he knew his days were numbered, Joe Morrone never stopped working, teaching, role modeling, and caring .
Yogi Berra earned every tribute and honor that came his way in his remarkable 90-year life. And although his life was a decade shorter than the beloved baseball Hall-of-Famer’s, the same was true of Joe Morrone., a man who impacted his sport to an even greater degree than Berra did his.
— Now a teacher at a local high school, Andy Young called the radio play-by-play for the UConn soccer from 1977-1980.
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