By Ridge Mahoney
Soccer America, Senior Editor
He looked like a hard-ass, with a boxer's misshapen nose, a hawkÆs menacing squint, and a tyrantÆs bald pate.
Yet Glenn Myernick laughed a lot and liked a good story as well as anyone. He could tell more than a few tales after being steeped in soccer for most of his 51 years.
He recalled his national team days, playing games in Mexico or Central America with two daysÆ training, or meeting teammates for the first time at an airport before flying overseas.
The national team flew to France one year to play Marseille at the Stade Velodrome in one of those tune-ups the club scheduled to buildup momentum and confidence via a multi-goal thrashing.
Incredibly, the Americans won, which muddied the mood somewhat.
''We didnÆt win very often in those days,'' recalled Myernick. ''So we're yelling and singing and having a pretty good time at the post-game party. Meanwhile, our federation officials are over in the corner apologizing to the team president for ruining the occasion. It's great to see how other countries respect us now.''
As a player, his game was ruggedness and determination spiced with savvy and instinct. To compete against players more skilled he trained zealously, and at Hartwick College won the Hermann Trophy as the country's best college player before moving on to the professional ranks and the U.S. national team.
As a coach, he wanted commitment and effort in the eternal quest for excellence and, having been raised in the rich soccer culture of New Jersey, he cared deeply about the game and where it was headed, not just about results and reports.
''As coaches we have to remember the game is about players,'' he said. ''You have to give them the right messages, the right things to do. When we forget about that, we get ourselves in trouble.''
In his rookie season as a pro head coach, he led the Rapids to MLS Cup 1997 after they finished the regular season in fourth place. Eventually management deemed his style of play too boring and his manner too rigid. He lasted four seasons, then joined the federation full-time.
As an assistant to former national team coach Bruce Arena, he prepared many of the scouting materials and analyses of opposing teams and in candid moments, could be scathingly blunt. He could also be touchingly human if you asked about his family or a friend or an ex-teammate.
Myernick, remember, missed a Colorado game to attend a ballet recital. Yes, Mr. Blood-and-Guts skipped out on his team and headed for Texas, where his daughter, Kelly, was dancing for a local ballet troupe.
When I think of Myernick, I won't necessarily conjure up an image of him trapping balls at a practice session or glaring out at the field while seated alongside Arena on the bench. I'll remember a photo of him dressed up sharp, posing proudly beside Kelly, being a dad.
As a coach, he had a few faults. As a guy, he had a lot of the right stuff.
Myernick died on Oct. 9.