Faith

Tom Dent

MEN'S LACROSSE (1927-1959)

Tom Dent had been a very good soccer player on the national team in Scotland before he came over to this country. At the College he coached both soccer and lacrosse. I was lucky to play lacrosse under him for four springs.

Tom was a real gentleman. I can still picture him on the sidelines dressed in a sport coat with a shirt and tie, and wearing what was a probably a Scottish tweed hat. I don't think he'd wear Irish tweed. I can still hear that wonderful Scottish burr as he called out, when somebody made a bad mistake, "Ahhhh! That's a dumb thing to do." He had a talent for attacking the action and not the person. And he did not throw out words idly.

After a tour of duty in Korea, I reported for lacrosse in the spring of 1948, not having handled a lacrosse stick in two years. I was a tall, ungainly defenseman, and in those early practices I felt like the rusted Tin Man. Tom was blessed that year with a large and talented squad, captained by an Ail American attackman, Bob Merriam '48.1 justifiably spent most of my time on the bench. About halfway through the season, however, Al Bagni'47 suffered a leg injury that would keep him out for the rest of the spring, and Tom assigned me to take his place.

As we dressed for the New Hampshire game, I was filled with doubts about my being able to do my part. Tom was observant enough to sense that. As he made the rounds of the locker room, he came up to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, "Pat, my lad, I've got faith in you." Those words had the effect of adrenaline.

On the opening face off we skirmished around the midfield circle, and the ball suddenly appeared right in front of me. I scooped it up and headed toward the UNH goal. Our inside attackmen vacated the corridor leading to the goal, taking with them the UNH defensemen, who correctly assumed that those players were more of an offensive threat than the slow-footed defenseman lumbering goalward. That gave me the chance to take a shot at the goal, which amazingly went in, giving us a quick 1-0 lead.

I started and played for Tom for the rest of the season and the next two, but I never scored another goal. Whenever I chanced to carry the ball beyond midfield, I would hear the Scottish burr from the sidelines, "Pat, pass off and get back on defense!" Tom's faith in me was as a defenseman, not a goal scorer.

We sometimes don't fully appreciate what people are doing for us until years later, when we can look back with a little perspective. I regret that I never told Tom how much his encouraging words meant. I'm not sure he knew how much strength I got from his faith in me.