'Mallory Men' Gather To Remember, Honor Former Coach

BROOMFIELD — Forty years after they came together from all over the country and from all walks of life, four decades after they arrived at the University of Colorado to build a memorable team in a memorable era, they gathered together again on Sunday to remember the man who molded them.

They were "Mallory Men." It was a moniker they wore proudly as Buffaloes playing for the late Bill Mallory in the 1970s, and one they still wear proudly today.

"We're here to honor a man who taught other men how to be men," said former standout defensive back Mike Spivey, now a pastor. "He taught us the place in our heart where we manufacture commitment. I didn't know where that place was until he taught us."

Mallory, who died May 25 at the age of 82, coached at Colorado for five seasons (1974-78). He finished with a 35-21-1 record that included a 9-3 mark in 1975 and an 8-4 mark in 1976, and still owns the fourth-best winning percentage in CU history among coaches who coached at least five seasons. Those 1975 and '76  teams finished 5-2 in the rugged Big Eight and were ranked 16th in the nation at season's end, with the 1976 team tying for the conference title and advancing to the Orange Bowl. Mallory also saw 37 of his players move on to play in the NFL, with another 16 of his recruits playing at the next level after his departure following the 1978 season.

Mallory's wife, Ellie, and his daughter, Barb, were joined by more than 20 of his former players and a host of CU Athletics administrators who worked with Mallory at Sunday's memorial. Also attending the event, which coincided with the annual Buffs4Life weekend celebration at the Omni Interlocken in Broomfield, were former CU coaches Bill McCartney and Gary Barnett and former Fairview High School coach Sam Pagano.

Former Buffs fullback Jim Kelleher noted that when Mallory took over from Eddie Crowder — who stayed on as CU's athletic director — one of his primary objectives was to build team unity. In order to expedite that process, he created a dormitory for football players, Brackett Hall.

"It was a place where we could wake up together, eat together, be together," Kelleher noted. "He inherited a team of a different mentality, but he united us. He made us into a team."

Mallory was known as a passionate, intense leader who infused that spirit into his players. If there was one trademark that followed him through every one of his coaching stops, it was that his teams were always tough, physically and mentally.

But, his players stressed, he also cared deeply for them, nurturing them on the journey that took them from boys to young men.

Former defensive back Mike L. Davis, who went on to win a pair of Super Bowl rings with the Oakland and Los Angeles Raiders, became emotional when remembering what Mallory meant to him.

"Coach Mallory saved my life," Davis said. "I grew up in Los Angeles. It was a tough time. But this place was my home. I couldn't wait to get back to Bracket Hall because I knew Coach Mallory cared about us. He would dress me down, but then he built me back up. He taught me how to live."

There were also plenty of humorous anecdotes about Mallory. Longtime CU radio play-by-play man Larry Zimmer recalled the time he saw Mallory arguing with the Iowa State mascot at halftime of a game in which the Buffs had not played well in the first half, and the mascot was taunting Mallory as he headed to the locker room.

Mallory later said he told the mascot the Buffs would rally in the second half — and they did, pulling out a win.

But Zimmer also remembered a kinder side of Mallory that was seldom seen by the public and media.

Zimmer was one of the first people to speak with Mallory when he was told by Crowder that he wouldn't be retained after the 1978 season.

"Not once did he worry about his future," Zimmer said. "His only concern was about his assistant coaches and the players he recruited. He was worried about their futures, not his."

Former linebacker Chuck McCarter remembered the 1977 season, when CU started the year 5-0 but then stumbled, with injuries and midseason defections taking their toll, including a serious brain injury to Tom Perry that nearly cost the linebacker his life.

McCarter said that's when Mallory's leadership became evident — in times of adversity.

"We all meshed together," McCarter said. "We all became a family."

Ellie Mallory, a music student, recounted how she and Bill met in high school — and how she had to learn football from scratch. She remembered how they learned together to put losses behind them and look forward to the next game, and how they learned to deal with difficult times.

"Dealing with adversity is something we all need to learn how to do," she said. "Nobody is immune."

Barb, meanwhile, remembered that her father promised to buy her a horse when they moved to Colorado. Soon after they made the move to Boulder, he followed up on that vow, buying a horse from a farm west of town.

Then, she laughed, he realized he had no way to get the horse back to their property. So, he borrowed a saddle from the owner, mounted up and rode the horse home.

"There was the new head coach of the University of Colorado, riding a horse through town to our house," she said.

There were plenty of other memories. A big win over Oklahoma in 1976 that paved the way to a Big Eight title; trips to the Bluebonnet and Orange bowls; a win over No. 10 Missouri in 1975.

And, there were plenty of stories about his tough demeanor, and how he expected the same kind of toughness from his players.

But the overriding theme was about a man who cared deeply about his family, his players and his coaching staff, and the life lessons he imparted that permanently shaped the young men who played for him.

"He cared about the people," Kelleher said. "Our experience and and the lessons Coach Mallory taught us, the gifts he shared with us, have stayed with us all these years. He remained our coach until the day he died — and he will always be our coach."

Just before the memorial concluded, former players were asked to stand. The message was simple yet powerful, as each one held his head high and uttered the phrase they still carry with them some 40 years later:

"I'm a Mallory Man."