By Craig Morgan, thesundevils.com Writer
Mesa Westwood High School quarterback Danny White was all set to attend Brigham Young University in the fall of 1970 when Frank Kush showed up on the White's family doorstep. The Sun Devils football coach came armed with some mind-changing ammunition.
Kush turned on a seldom-seen charm for Danny's mom, and he put Danny on the phone so Sun Devils baseball coach Bobby Winkles could offer the multi-spot star a scholarship to one of the nation's premier programs. Just like that, the future Dallas Cowboy was a Sun Devil.
"I tell people it was the only time in my life that Frank Kush was nice to me, and it was only because my mom and dad were there," White said, laughing. "Playing for Frank constantly meant pushing yourself to what you thought was your limit and then finding out there was a little more, and then finding a new limit. There were 60 of us on that freshman team and by the time we were seniors there were only six of us, but all six of us got NFL contracts. The feeling was, if you could put up with Frank and survive and be successful in his system, you could play for anybody."
Kush won 176 games in 21½ seasons in Tempe, the most in Sun Devil history. He led his teams to seven Western Athletic Conference Championships and 19 winning seasons. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1995 and holds the ASU football record for most postseason victories.
Kush led the Sun Devils to six victories in seven bowl appearances, including the 1970 Peach Bowl and 1975 Fiesta Bowl where the team completed undefeated seasons. The Peach Bowl marked ASU's first bowl game in 19 years and the Fiesta Bowl win vaulted the Sun Devils to No. 2 in the national rankings, the highest ever under Kush.
The Valley icon passed away on June 22, at age 88, but he left behind a long legacy of players who credit him with instilling far more than the tools of the trade.
"In listening to all his former players talk about him, one of the things that jumped out at me is not one of us has said 'thank you for making me a better linebacker or a better offensive guard,'" said linebacker Bob Breunig, a two-time WAC Defensive Player of the Year (1973, '74), who made three Pro Bowls with the Cowboys and won a Super Bowl. "Instead, every one of us has said 'thank you, coach for teaching me about commitment and hard work and accomplishment and winning.' What you realize later is he was teaching us about character and the requirements of investment in a process you needed to be successful."
Kush travelled to Stockton, California in 1966 to recruit receiver J.D. Hill, but Hill had already committed to a local junior college coach named Larry Kentera. Undeterred, Kush hired Kentera as a Sun Devil assistant and Hill came aboard, blossoming into the No. 4 overall pick in the 1971 NFL Draft.
Hill thanked Kush for that opportunity, but it was another opportunity Kush gave him that sticks with Hill today.
"I got in some trouble off the field and they didn't want me to be around the athletes or the football complex," said Hill, who missed the 1969 season. "They had me working with kids at the local Salvation Army and on the reservation and at the Boys and Girls Club.
"When it came time to go before the committee to see if I could get back on the football team, Kush took me in his office and showed me a bunch of letters from people who didn't want him to let me back. They called me an embarrassment to the university. Then Kush pulled out one letter from the top drawer of his desk and it was from my grandmother, asking coach to please give me another chance.
"He said 'because of that and the commitment I made to your grandma and you, I'm going to give you a second chance. What you do with this opportunity could make a difference for another kid who comes through and may need a second chance.'
"I'll never forgot what coach Kush did to put his credibility on the line for a kid out of Stockton. I wasn't going to let him down."
Kush's lasting reputation at ASU will be that of an iron-fisted, blue-collar, no-nonsense, hard-driving disciplinarian. His former players don't dispute that persona, but they understand now why he did it.
"He worked us so hard," said former offensive guard Steve Matlock, who played on the undefeated 11-0 Peach Bowl team in 1970. "People keep telling it was just that era, but no, it wasn't. I talk to other players from that era. It was just Frank. Whether it was hamburger drills or running up Kush Mountain or three a-day practices or scrimmaging twice a day before the Peach Bowl, he just went further than anybody else, he expected more than anybody else and we all followed his lead."
"He was the toughest, most fearless guy that I've ever met in my life and because of that fearlessness, he absolutely had an aura about him that's said 'nothing can stop me.' He was 5-8 and maybe 180 pounds. He may as well have been 7 feet tall."
To Kush's players, his legacy lies in his ability to construct successful men.
"He's Coach Kush, he's not Frank," Hill said. "I never call him by his first name. He earned the name Coach Kush. He was a teacher, he was a father, a mentor, a friend and he was there for us. He was always there for us."
Mesa Westwood High School quarterback Danny White was all set to attend Brigham Young University in the fall of 1970 when Frank Kush showed up on the White's family doorstep. The Sun Devils football coach came armed with some mind-changing ammunition.
Kush turned on a seldom-seen charm for Danny's mom, and he put Danny on the phone so Sun Devils baseball coach Bobby Winkles could offer the multi-spot star a scholarship to one of the nation's premier programs. Just like that, the future Dallas Cowboy was a Sun Devil.
"I tell people it was the only time in my life that Frank Kush was nice to me, and it was only because my mom and dad were there," White said, laughing. "Playing for Frank constantly meant pushing yourself to what you thought was your limit and then finding out there was a little more, and then finding a new limit. There were 60 of us on that freshman team and by the time we were seniors there were only six of us, but all six of us got NFL contracts. The feeling was, if you could put up with Frank and survive and be successful in his system, you could play for anybody."
Kush won 176 games in 21½ seasons in Tempe, the most in Sun Devil history. He led his teams to seven Western Athletic Conference Championships and 19 winning seasons. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1995 and holds the ASU football record for most postseason victories.
Kush led the Sun Devils to six victories in seven bowl appearances, including the 1970 Peach Bowl and 1975 Fiesta Bowl where the team completed undefeated seasons. The Peach Bowl marked ASU's first bowl game in 19 years and the Fiesta Bowl win vaulted the Sun Devils to No. 2 in the national rankings, the highest ever under Kush.
The Valley icon passed away on June 22, at age 88, but he left behind a long legacy of players who credit him with instilling far more than the tools of the trade.
"In listening to all his former players talk about him, one of the things that jumped out at me is not one of us has said 'thank you for making me a better linebacker or a better offensive guard,'" said linebacker Bob Breunig, a two-time WAC Defensive Player of the Year (1973, '74), who made three Pro Bowls with the Cowboys and won a Super Bowl. "Instead, every one of us has said 'thank you, coach for teaching me about commitment and hard work and accomplishment and winning.' What you realize later is he was teaching us about character and the requirements of investment in a process you needed to be successful."
Kush travelled to Stockton, California in 1966 to recruit receiver J.D. Hill, but Hill had already committed to a local junior college coach named Larry Kentera. Undeterred, Kush hired Kentera as a Sun Devil assistant and Hill came aboard, blossoming into the No. 4 overall pick in the 1971 NFL Draft.
Hill thanked Kush for that opportunity, but it was another opportunity Kush gave him that sticks with Hill today.
"I got in some trouble off the field and they didn't want me to be around the athletes or the football complex," said Hill, who missed the 1969 season. "They had me working with kids at the local Salvation Army and on the reservation and at the Boys and Girls Club.
"When it came time to go before the committee to see if I could get back on the football team, Kush took me in his office and showed me a bunch of letters from people who didn't want him to let me back. They called me an embarrassment to the university. Then Kush pulled out one letter from the top drawer of his desk and it was from my grandmother, asking coach to please give me another chance.
"He said 'because of that and the commitment I made to your grandma and you, I'm going to give you a second chance. What you do with this opportunity could make a difference for another kid who comes through and may need a second chance.'
"I'll never forgot what coach Kush did to put his credibility on the line for a kid out of Stockton. I wasn't going to let him down."
Kush's lasting reputation at ASU will be that of an iron-fisted, blue-collar, no-nonsense, hard-driving disciplinarian. His former players don't dispute that persona, but they understand now why he did it.
"He worked us so hard," said former offensive guard Steve Matlock, who played on the undefeated 11-0 Peach Bowl team in 1970. "People keep telling it was just that era, but no, it wasn't. I talk to other players from that era. It was just Frank. Whether it was hamburger drills or running up Kush Mountain or three a-day practices or scrimmaging twice a day before the Peach Bowl, he just went further than anybody else, he expected more than anybody else and we all followed his lead."
"He was the toughest, most fearless guy that I've ever met in my life and because of that fearlessness, he absolutely had an aura about him that's said 'nothing can stop me.' He was 5-8 and maybe 180 pounds. He may as well have been 7 feet tall."
To Kush's players, his legacy lies in his ability to construct successful men.
"He's Coach Kush, he's not Frank," Hill said. "I never call him by his first name. He earned the name Coach Kush. He was a teacher, he was a father, a mentor, a friend and he was there for us. He was always there for us."