The news took me by surprise.
I mean, it shouldn't have. The man was 88 years of age, going on 89. I understand we all have to pass away sometime.
Yet this was Leon, man.
It was Leon freakin' McCoy.
If anyone was going to buck the trend of passing away it was that man. He was Popeye personified. (Biceps included.) He was - high school and college coaches alike will tell you - the Man of Steel. (Weight training hit West Virginia largely thanks to him.) Oh, yeah, and he was Lil' Abner. (Kids go ahead and Google the reference.)
Shoot, he PLAYED Lil' Abner in an Al Capp film shown worldwide.
I mean, even his obituary showed strength. No first, middle and last name there. It was Leon McCoy. Just Leon McCoy.
"Coach McCoy was one of those people you only meet once in a lifetime," wrote Joseph Tyree on a funeral home web site page. "No finer person. A real role model."
Folks should understand, though, he wasn't a quiet role model that led by example. He was an enthusiastic role model that challenged you. This Popeye got in your face.
And people loved him for it.
Art Dolin said McCoy reminded him of Saul of Tarsus, who became Paul the Apostle. "[McCoy] would say the Lord has a mighty plan for all our lives - if we let Him in," wrote Dolin, likewise on the aforementioned page.
Consider that. Have you ever met a Man of Steel that was compared to Paul the Apostle? Well, that was Leon. Unforgettable.
Maybe I should back up a smidge. For those unaware, McCoy was a Winfield High institution. His Generals football teams once won 41 consecutive games and he finished his career with an amazing 213-68-1 record and state titles in 1985 and '87. He was a 2009 inductee into the West Virginia Coaches Hall of Fame, along with names like Ben Schwartzwalder and Alex Hawkins.
He was also a two-time all-state player at Charleston High. He was a starter at Tennessee before packing his bags and returning home to star at then-Morris Harvey, where he was an All-America pick in 1950. In addition to Winfield, he coached at Charleston Catholic and Morris Harvey.
But you know what? Most of the students that passed through the halls of Winfield High toward the end of his teaching career probably didn't know any of that. Yet they knew Leon.
He was the Generals' general. He was the backbone, the spirit of life in Winfield.
The first time I met Leon, I was at the school to present a Gazette Excellence in Sports Award before our papers merged.
And you'll never guess who led the student body in a cheer at the assembly. Give me a "W." Give me an "I." Give me an "N." Give me an "F." Give me...
Think about it. Here was a man that accomplished so much yet refused to rest on his laurels. He was out there leading the way. Always.
The last time I saw Leon, I was hosting a sports show in Charleston and he was kind enough to be a guest. I remember searching for introductory material when I went to Google.
What saddened me were, at the top of the search, stories of Winfield banning McCoy from speaking at commencement after years of doing so. His religious messages within were deemed inappropriate.
I remember thinking that's not the way my guy, West Virginia's version of Jack LaLanne, should be remembered. He was so much more to our state. He was so much more to athletics. He was so much more to Winfield. And he was so much more to the students there.
I, by the way, told him at the show he wasn't banned from expressing his religious views and asked him about his faith. He smiled and explained how important it was to him.
See, you see, you could take away the platform, but you couldn't take away his message, his spirit.
Now, sadly, Leon McCoy is gone from this, the earthly, stage. But I'd like to suggest we all take a walk or run in his honor. Maybe pick up some barbells. Ride a bike. Something active. I think he'd like that.
And, by all means, keep my guy Popeye fresh in your mind. His legacy of strength and willpower, his sense of school pride and bonding, and, certainly, his message of faith, should always resonate.
Strong, he was, to the finish.
Contact Mitch Vingle at 304-348-4827 or mitchvingle@wvgazettemail.com. Follow him on Twitter @MitchVingle.