The long game

Phillips’ life demonstrated what matters

Gaining fame is not the same as making a difference.

Loyd Phillips, in his 75 years, can be credited with achieving both.

The people of Arkansas know Phillips through exceptional athleticism and near-tragedy.

To say he was a lineman who started three seasons for the Arkansas Razorbacks is to say Audie Murphy was just a soldier in a little conflict overseas. Well, we’ll forgive those who might not get the reference: Murphy, remembered by many as a Hollywood actor, was one of the most decorated American combat soldiers of World War II.

Phillips is a Razorback legend, one of only two Hogs to have received the Outland Trophy as the nation’s outstanding interior lineman. He’s remembered for an unparalleled level of fierceness as a competitor who was a member of the 1964 National Championship team. He went on to play for the Chicago Bears and New Orleans Saints in a career cut short by injury.

For his playing days, he’s been inducted into halls of fame for the Southwest Conference, for Arkansas sports, for college football, for Texas sports (he was a native of Texas) and for the Cotton Bowl. He was a two-time All-American.

And many Arkansans remember him as a father of a Springdale High School football player, MacKenzie, who collapsed and stopped breathing on the field of a 1986 rivalry game against Fayetteville. In a flash, the competing communities were united, many in prayer. Through local TV news and a later broadcast to the nation on the then-popular show “Rescue 911,” viewers relived dramatic moments when a mother and father lived the anguish of watching paramedics administer CPR and shocked the teenager’s heart. Anguish turned to joy when doctors restarted MacKenzie’s heart 25 minutes after it had stopped. It was an incredible example of heroic action by life-saving medical workers. The young man went on to play as a Razorback starting in 1988. What was so really memorable and impressive about Loyd Phillips, though, is the passion he put into building up students and colleagues in his post-football life. Once he left the Saints, he returned to the University of Arkansas for bachelor’s and master’s degrees before beginning a 38-year career in public school education.

It was in those schools where, year after year, Loyd Phillips devoted himself to the encouragement of kids and wise guidance wherever they needed it. Whether it was run-of-the-mill disciplinary issues or navigating the friction of rapid population growth of students from diverse cultures, Phillips delivered his doses of crisis management, wisdom, leadership and compassion to anyone who came within his sphere of influence.

“It was always real with Loyd, never phony. Kids recognize a phony from 9 million miles away. He was never that,” Charlie Cooper, who served as athletic director and football coach at Rogers, told WholeHogSports.com’s Clay Henry.

“If I can have an impact on one kid a year, I’m pleased,” Phillips once told an interviewer for the Tulsa World. And with that as his goal, he helped untold numbers every year.

Some may take a look and consider it a shame that Phillips’ exceptional skill as a football player didn’t play out differently in the NFL. If it had, that certainly would be one measure of success.

In our book, Loyd Phillips measured up on a yardstick of even greater significance: After 75 years, he left this world with a lot more people set on better paths because they had the good fortune of coming into contact with him. Phillips’ investment in them will pay off for generations to come.

That is a victory for the record books.