Carl "Buck" Nystrom joins five others in the MSU Athletics Hall of Fame tonight, and if you haven't heard much about Nystrom before this, know two things. One, it sounds like he may have been the most intense coach in the history of coaching. Two, he's also the subject of more hilarious stories than most.
Tom Izzo and Barry Switzer, in particular, were literally howling at times Wednesday as they recounted Buck's Greatest Hits. First, let Switzer explain what it was like to share the sideline with Nystrom (Switzer was Oklahoma's offensive coordinator under Chuck Fairbanks when Nystrom was offensive line coach).
"I can still see him out there, screaming, hollering, spitting," Switzer said. "He had lost his front teeth, so he'd take that plate out and just get after it. The cameras should have been on him the whole time. Buck would have been great theater – but he was not a performer. That was him. What he did was real, totally real."
• The Human Antacid: As Switzer tells it, Nystrom came into the training room one day complaining about a stomach ache. Oklahoma's trainer told him to fill half a cup with some powdered antacid he had on the shelf, and take it with half a cup of water.
Moments later, Nystrom came into the office, and he was not doing well.
"He looked like a rabid dog – big white bubbles were pouring out of his mouth, coming out his nose," Switzer said. "I thought he was having a heart attack. I thought he was dead. He said, 'Guys, I don't know what's happening to me.'"
Nystrom had eaten the powder before drinking the water, so the reaction happened in his stomach instead of the cup.
"Man, he never lived that one down," Switzer said, clearly in tears on the other end of the phone. "Believe me, he never complained about an upset stomach again."
• The Fashion Plate: Izzo recalls football booster events on Fridays at Northern Michigan.
"Buck would get dressed up," Izzo said. "He'd put on tennis shoes, semi-dress pants, a T-shirt and a sport coat brought over by Columbus, you know?"
At Oklahoma, Nystrom was known for consistency.
"Have you ever seen a clip-on tie?" Switzer said. "Buck wore the same one every time."
Interestingly enough, Nystrom briefly got out of coaching to open a clothing store in Marquette – "Buck's Togs." He eventually opened multiple locations and kept the stores for a while after returning to coaching. Izzo recalled the day Nystrom moved from the mall to a location near campus. He called Izzo and Mariucci – then grad assistants at NMU – for help.
They moved Nystrom's merchandise for him. In the back of a pickup truck.
"We weren't too worried about keeping them clean," Izzo said, struggling to get the words out through his own laughter. "Just right back on the shelves, you know?"
• The Enforcer: Pat Shurmur summed up Nystrom's coaching philosophy like this -- "If we could do it in a way that would make Buck proud, our opponent was not going to be an issue. He was a very salty guy. He'd challenge you mentally and physically. He made sure the training was more difficult than the game would be."
Nystrom at practice was a must-see event.
"He's out there hitting people," Izzo said, "he's cut, bleeding, I mean … he was the greatest."
Nystrom "made those kids tougher than hell," Switzer said, and had a big hand in a pair of Big 8 titles for Oklahoma. A regular sight after the morning session of two-a-days would be the entire team heading to the mess hall – except for the offensive line.
"Buck would still have them out there pushing the blocking dummies," Switzer said. "Everyone else was happy they weren't an offensive lineman."
There was a flip side, of course. There had to be. When it wasn't time to practice or play, Nystrom was all smiles. Shurmur said he developed a strong bond with Nystrom, one that didn't always require words.
"I did all I could to impress him," Shurmur said. "He's one of those significant people who helped shaped me into the person I am. He's one of the reasons I could be considered an overachiever of sorts."
And if you want to talk about mentoring, look at Izzo. When Jud Heathcote was considering whether to hire Izzo as a graduate assistant in 1983, it was Nystrom – just a few months into his new job as George Perles' offensive line coach – who put in a word for Izzo
• The MSU Representative: As mentioned in the story, Nystrom is an obvious Biggie-Duffy coaching descendant. Unlike many of his peers, though, he never aspired to do anything but coach offensive line.
"I said to myself, 'I enjoy coaching too much,'" Nystrom said. "It gets to the point as a head coach, you're a director, you're in charge, but you actually get away from the game."
The two head coaches who influenced him most did so in different ways. His memories of Munn and Daugherty are similar to most.
"Biggie was more of an enforcer," Nystrom said. "He had a little bit of Patton in him, you know? He would drive it to the nth degree. Duffy had a great knack for communicating, and he wanted his players to have fun. I loved playing for him. He was an extremely, extremely smart man."
The coaching quality that sprouted from the Biggie-Duffy trunk can't be overstated. Bob Devaney, Dan Devine, Forest Evashevski and Earle Edwards were among Munn's assistants, and Daugherty's first staff included Sonny Grandelius, Devaney, Devine and Bill Yeoman – the last three of those are members of the College Football Hall of Fame along with Munn and Daugherty.
And that doesn't count Chuck Fairbanks and Frank Kush, who got the coaching bug as MSU players in that era.
"I mean, Frankie got a stadium named after him," Nystrom said of Frank Kush Field at Arizona State's Sun Devil Stadium. "And all of this came from those two people. It's incredible."
Switzer recalled the national respect at the time for Munn, Daugherty and Hank Bullough.
"Hard-nosed son-of-a-(guns)," he said.
And now, Nystrom sees that tradition in what Mark Dantonio has built at MSU since 2007.
"He's got a lot of MSU in him," Nystrom said of Dantonio. "His personality, the way he approaches the game, he's got a lot of flavor of MSU and I think that's great. He runs a disciplined program, he's fair to the kids and he's good to the kids. And that's been MSU's trademark. He's the boss, but he has great rapport with his kids. He's a good one. He's a class guy."
And another thing…
"You don't see his kids running their mouth and all that crap," Nystrom said. "That's not what college athletics is all about. Play the game, get your education, be a good person. And keep your mouth shut."
Getting into the MSU Hall of Fame was important to Nystrom, he said, because it's more representation for the dozens of quality players on those teams from the 1950s. Also, because it'll give his family something to see on Saturdays in East Lansing for years to come. Nystrom's son, Kyle, is assistant head coach for Dan Enos at Central Michigan, and he has three children.
"Some day they can go to an MSU game and say, 'Hey, let's go see Dad, let's go see Grandpa.'" Nystrom said. "They can cherish that all their life now."
• The Football Nut: Back to stories that induce tears. When Perles was MSU's head coach, all the games would be replayed late at night on local TV (many of them weren't televised live at all back then). MSU coaches, including some from other sports – always including Izzo – would convene at Perles' house for parties that included late-night game viewing.
Nystrom would set up bar stools as offensive linemen and move them around during offensive plays. Izzo would stand nearby, ready to step in and provide support. Because if a play was run incorrectly...
"He'd hit those stools so hard," Izzo said.
Pause for laughter.
"He is special," Izzo continued. "All he wanted to do was coach. He really, truly coached for the love of the game."
Nystrom believed in fundamentals above all else. Doing the same things over and over again until they were done perfectly. The Munn philosophy. But he also loved designing plays.
Switzer and Fairbanks switched Oklahoma in 1970 to the wishbone offense, but when Nystrom was there from 1967-69, the Sooners ran straight ahead out of the I formation – with running back Steve Owens winning the Heisman in 1969. Nystrom got in Switzer's ear often about various plays.
"The off-tackle sweep play was his favorite," Switzer said. "We always knew he'd put that one in."
And that sounds a lot like "Toss 38," the MSU pitch play that became the trademark of Perles' offenses (along with its twin to the other side, "Toss 39.")
It was much more complex than it may seem, which explains why Shurmur had Nystrom write all the blocking assignments out for him during a summer lunch meeting. At times, Shurmur said, MSU would run the play with zone concepts and at other times with man concepts. Sometimes, Shurmur would pull from center and get to the second level to make the play work.
For the record, Shurmur is not planning to use the play in the Eagles' offense. He's keeping it as a reminder of a coach whose impact within the game far exceeded the attention he received outside of it.
"I mean, Buck will walk onto anybody's practice field right now, today, get in the huddle and get right to coaching," Bullough said. "And that's OK, because every coach knows Buck."
Tom Izzo and Barry Switzer, in particular, were literally howling at times Wednesday as they recounted Buck's Greatest Hits. First, let Switzer explain what it was like to share the sideline with Nystrom (Switzer was Oklahoma's offensive coordinator under Chuck Fairbanks when Nystrom was offensive line coach).
"I can still see him out there, screaming, hollering, spitting," Switzer said. "He had lost his front teeth, so he'd take that plate out and just get after it. The cameras should have been on him the whole time. Buck would have been great theater – but he was not a performer. That was him. What he did was real, totally real."
• The Human Antacid: As Switzer tells it, Nystrom came into the training room one day complaining about a stomach ache. Oklahoma's trainer told him to fill half a cup with some powdered antacid he had on the shelf, and take it with half a cup of water.
Moments later, Nystrom came into the office, and he was not doing well.
"He looked like a rabid dog – big white bubbles were pouring out of his mouth, coming out his nose," Switzer said. "I thought he was having a heart attack. I thought he was dead. He said, 'Guys, I don't know what's happening to me.'"
Nystrom had eaten the powder before drinking the water, so the reaction happened in his stomach instead of the cup.
"Man, he never lived that one down," Switzer said, clearly in tears on the other end of the phone. "Believe me, he never complained about an upset stomach again."
• The Fashion Plate: Izzo recalls football booster events on Fridays at Northern Michigan.
"Buck would get dressed up," Izzo said. "He'd put on tennis shoes, semi-dress pants, a T-shirt and a sport coat brought over by Columbus, you know?"
At Oklahoma, Nystrom was known for consistency.
"Have you ever seen a clip-on tie?" Switzer said. "Buck wore the same one every time."
Interestingly enough, Nystrom briefly got out of coaching to open a clothing store in Marquette – "Buck's Togs." He eventually opened multiple locations and kept the stores for a while after returning to coaching. Izzo recalled the day Nystrom moved from the mall to a location near campus. He called Izzo and Mariucci – then grad assistants at NMU – for help.
They moved Nystrom's merchandise for him. In the back of a pickup truck.
"We weren't too worried about keeping them clean," Izzo said, struggling to get the words out through his own laughter. "Just right back on the shelves, you know?"
• The Enforcer: Pat Shurmur summed up Nystrom's coaching philosophy like this -- "If we could do it in a way that would make Buck proud, our opponent was not going to be an issue. He was a very salty guy. He'd challenge you mentally and physically. He made sure the training was more difficult than the game would be."
Nystrom at practice was a must-see event.
"He's out there hitting people," Izzo said, "he's cut, bleeding, I mean … he was the greatest."
Nystrom "made those kids tougher than hell," Switzer said, and had a big hand in a pair of Big 8 titles for Oklahoma. A regular sight after the morning session of two-a-days would be the entire team heading to the mess hall – except for the offensive line.
"Buck would still have them out there pushing the blocking dummies," Switzer said. "Everyone else was happy they weren't an offensive lineman."
There was a flip side, of course. There had to be. When it wasn't time to practice or play, Nystrom was all smiles. Shurmur said he developed a strong bond with Nystrom, one that didn't always require words.
"I did all I could to impress him," Shurmur said. "He's one of those significant people who helped shaped me into the person I am. He's one of the reasons I could be considered an overachiever of sorts."
And if you want to talk about mentoring, look at Izzo. When Jud Heathcote was considering whether to hire Izzo as a graduate assistant in 1983, it was Nystrom – just a few months into his new job as George Perles' offensive line coach – who put in a word for Izzo
• The MSU Representative: As mentioned in the story, Nystrom is an obvious Biggie-Duffy coaching descendant. Unlike many of his peers, though, he never aspired to do anything but coach offensive line.
"I said to myself, 'I enjoy coaching too much,'" Nystrom said. "It gets to the point as a head coach, you're a director, you're in charge, but you actually get away from the game."
The two head coaches who influenced him most did so in different ways. His memories of Munn and Daugherty are similar to most.
"Biggie was more of an enforcer," Nystrom said. "He had a little bit of Patton in him, you know? He would drive it to the nth degree. Duffy had a great knack for communicating, and he wanted his players to have fun. I loved playing for him. He was an extremely, extremely smart man."
The coaching quality that sprouted from the Biggie-Duffy trunk can't be overstated. Bob Devaney, Dan Devine, Forest Evashevski and Earle Edwards were among Munn's assistants, and Daugherty's first staff included Sonny Grandelius, Devaney, Devine and Bill Yeoman – the last three of those are members of the College Football Hall of Fame along with Munn and Daugherty.
And that doesn't count Chuck Fairbanks and Frank Kush, who got the coaching bug as MSU players in that era.
"I mean, Frankie got a stadium named after him," Nystrom said of Frank Kush Field at Arizona State's Sun Devil Stadium. "And all of this came from those two people. It's incredible."
Switzer recalled the national respect at the time for Munn, Daugherty and Hank Bullough.
"Hard-nosed son-of-a-(guns)," he said.
And now, Nystrom sees that tradition in what Mark Dantonio has built at MSU since 2007.
"He's got a lot of MSU in him," Nystrom said of Dantonio. "His personality, the way he approaches the game, he's got a lot of flavor of MSU and I think that's great. He runs a disciplined program, he's fair to the kids and he's good to the kids. And that's been MSU's trademark. He's the boss, but he has great rapport with his kids. He's a good one. He's a class guy."
And another thing…
"You don't see his kids running their mouth and all that crap," Nystrom said. "That's not what college athletics is all about. Play the game, get your education, be a good person. And keep your mouth shut."
Getting into the MSU Hall of Fame was important to Nystrom, he said, because it's more representation for the dozens of quality players on those teams from the 1950s. Also, because it'll give his family something to see on Saturdays in East Lansing for years to come. Nystrom's son, Kyle, is assistant head coach for Dan Enos at Central Michigan, and he has three children.
"Some day they can go to an MSU game and say, 'Hey, let's go see Dad, let's go see Grandpa.'" Nystrom said. "They can cherish that all their life now."
• The Football Nut: Back to stories that induce tears. When Perles was MSU's head coach, all the games would be replayed late at night on local TV (many of them weren't televised live at all back then). MSU coaches, including some from other sports – always including Izzo – would convene at Perles' house for parties that included late-night game viewing.
Nystrom would set up bar stools as offensive linemen and move them around during offensive plays. Izzo would stand nearby, ready to step in and provide support. Because if a play was run incorrectly...
"He'd hit those stools so hard," Izzo said.
Pause for laughter.
"He is special," Izzo continued. "All he wanted to do was coach. He really, truly coached for the love of the game."
Nystrom believed in fundamentals above all else. Doing the same things over and over again until they were done perfectly. The Munn philosophy. But he also loved designing plays.
Switzer and Fairbanks switched Oklahoma in 1970 to the wishbone offense, but when Nystrom was there from 1967-69, the Sooners ran straight ahead out of the I formation – with running back Steve Owens winning the Heisman in 1969. Nystrom got in Switzer's ear often about various plays.
"The off-tackle sweep play was his favorite," Switzer said. "We always knew he'd put that one in."
And that sounds a lot like "Toss 38," the MSU pitch play that became the trademark of Perles' offenses (along with its twin to the other side, "Toss 39.")
It was much more complex than it may seem, which explains why Shurmur had Nystrom write all the blocking assignments out for him during a summer lunch meeting. At times, Shurmur said, MSU would run the play with zone concepts and at other times with man concepts. Sometimes, Shurmur would pull from center and get to the second level to make the play work.
For the record, Shurmur is not planning to use the play in the Eagles' offense. He's keeping it as a reminder of a coach whose impact within the game far exceeded the attention he received outside of it.
"I mean, Buck will walk onto anybody's practice field right now, today, get in the huddle and get right to coaching," Bullough said. "And that's OK, because every coach knows Buck."
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