In 1999, MacIntyre’s father, George MacIntyre, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. As McIntyre’s family tried to deal with the tragic news, he saw his father’s former players become equally as sad about his father’s illness.
“I saw guy after guy come by and say, ‘Coach, I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.’” MacIntyre said. “A lot of them said, ‘I don’t even know who my dad was. You’re the only father figure I’ve had and every day I think of you.’ Are you kidding me? When I saw that, I said, wow, he really did make a difference.”
It was those moments that shaped the type of coach MacIntyre wanted to become. The kind of coach that could be easy to talk to, fair, but heavy-handed when he needed to. The kind of coach that didn’t boot a kid from the team because they were upset about the old regime getting fired and they didn’t want to abide by the new one. The kind of coach that looked himself straight in the eye at 3 a.m. and realized that he couldn’t change a football program until he changed himself.
“Their parents have handed us their baby and I’m in charge of trying to help that baby become a man and that’s what my whole goal is,” MacIntyre said. “That’s what really drives my engine as a coach. Now, I love winning, I love competition, I want to win every game and we’re going to eventually one day do that, but if you put all that in front, then all you’re doing is using kids. How shallow is that?
“I know I’ve got to win games to keep my job, but that’s not the true measure of how I measure success. It’s how these young men end up.”