Coach John in the Arena, &c.

On John and other Harbaughs; a late, historic jockey; the 1884 presidential campaign; and more

John Harbaugh, January 11, 2025 (Associated Press, Nick Wass)

Now and then, we touch on sports in this column, and now and then, we touch on some friends of mine: the Harbaughs, that fabulous football family. I believe I have known them since ... 1976? That was America’s bicentennial year. And we have just entered Year 250!

Jim Harbaugh and I are the same age. (Jim is now the head coach of the Los Angeles Chargers.) John was two grades ahead of us, I believe. For a summer or two, we all played on the same baseball team—Connie Mack, maybe. Our coach was John and Jim’s father, Jack.

He is known as “Coach Jack.” The boys are known as “Coach John” and “Coach Jim.” This is to keep the Harbaughs straight.

Mrs. Harbaugh—Jack’s wife, the boys’ mom—is Jackie. Wonderful, warm, delightful woman. And a rock to the “men in her life.”

Jack and Jackie’s daughter is Joanie—who knows a thing or two about sports herself.

As you probably know, John has been the head coach of the Baltimore Ravens for 18 years. He is synonymous with the franchise, as far as I’m concerned.

I will now quote from an article, published yesterday:

Harbaugh was fired Tuesday after guiding the Ravens to a Super Bowl title in 2012, six AFC North titles and 193 victories, including 13 in the postseason.

You know what my first reaction, and dominant reaction, was? “Man, is John’s next team lucky—if he wants another team.”

I have a bias, obviously. I think John is a great coach. And I know he’s a great guy. I further know this: Pretty much everyone agrees that John’s a great coach, as well as a great, great guy.

Listen to Tony Dungy—another of the best coaches of our times:

The Ravens had a bad start to the 2025 season: 1–5. I reminded John that I was with him all the way: win, lose, or draw.

John never faltered. He never panicked. He worked day after day—and the team won four in a row.

“Back to par, baby!” I said. “Even steven!” Then they won a fifth straight game.

I won’t say that I’m “proud” of John, because that sounds kind of parental. But I certainly admire him.

And I love something he said last month: “I try to do the job, not try to keep the job.”

I think that’s probably a good lesson for us all.

On January 1, NFL Films put out a delightful video, featuring John and Jim. I wrote the boys, “It’s only Day 1, but I already have my favorite video of the entire year.”

Watch it here.

Again, John’s next team, if he wants one, is lucky—very lucky. Also, there is no shame in being fired. A lot of good and valuable people are. You then go where you’re wanted. You have something to give, and you find ways in which to give it. There is a welcome for you.

Speaking of which: Have I thanked my readers lately? Thank you—really.

For many years, I have had two “extra” teams—two extra teams to follow and root for. My “regular” teams are the University of Michigan teams (for college) and the Detroit teams (for the pros).

My extra teams are the ones coached by John and Jim.

(For about ten years, I had just one “extra” team—because Jim was coaching Michigan.)

I wish the Ravens well—but I have always been more Harbaugh than Baltimore. And more Harbaugh than Los Angeles. And ...

Maybe I could end this section with a favorite verse. It comes from Samuel Longfellow, brother of Henry Wadsworth: “Thou leadest me by unsought ways, / Thou turn’st my mourning into praise.”

If you’re on an unsought way—that’s okay. Could be very, very good. Better than the one you sought!

***

Stick with sports, just for a moment. Sometimes, you don’t know of someone until he’s dead—until you read his obit. I had this experience the other day, reading this: “Diane Crump, First Woman to Ride in Kentucky Derby, Dies at 77.”

That obit was published in the New York Times, and was written by Jeré Longman. Interesting name, isn’t it? (The first name.) In his bio, Mr. Longman tells us that he grew up “in the Cajun country of Louisiana.”

I love something that Diane Crump said—a self-description: “a hardheaded little nobody with a dream that I wouldn’t let die.”

***

Jeff Jacoby sent me something interesting—a tidbit from the 1884 presidential campaign. (Jeff, as you know, is the veteran columnist for the Boston Globe.) He was responding to a column of mine, which include these paragraphs:

I think of Ernesto Zedillo, probably the best president Mexico has had in modern times. Once, after he was out of office, he was asked, “What three things does Mexico need most?” He answered, “The rule of law. The rule of law. And the rule of law.”

This applies to many countries, including, I’m sad and amazed to say, our own.

Jeff thought of something from that campaign of ’84. The New York World endorsed Grover Cleveland for four reasons:

He is an honest man.
He is an honest man.
He is an honest man.
He is an honest man.

Not bad.

***

Care for a little language? A colleague of mine said recently, “... the rest of New York is red.” For a second, I thought he meant Communist. But he meant Republican.

You can tell when I grew up ...

***

In a San Francisco journal, I did not leave out a language note, sharing this photo:

Said I,

If you want to write “Café,” great. “Cafe” is fine too. But “Caffé”? Non esiste. In Italian, it’s “Caffè,” with the accent going the other way.

A reader has sent me this picture:

He writes,

Good morning from Missouri, Jay,

... Thank you for setting me straight on the word caffè! I had always thought the final letter was accented the other way.

The picture I am sending you shows the wrong accent, alas. This place, which I shall henceforth refer to as “Caffè Pergolesi,” was my favorite place in Chicago. I discovered it only as my undergraduate years at Northwestern U. were drawing to a close.

Even on my first visit, I felt completely at home, and that’s just the way the café’s owner, David Weinberger, wanted it. I felt a glow of pride when, later, he called me one of the “irregulars,” his term of endearment for the collection of characters who frequented and loved Caffè Pergolesi.

Wonderful. And isn’t that a beautiful name, however we render the accent? I assume the café was named after the Neapolitan composer, Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710–36). (Damn short life.)

***

Bellini—Vincenzo Bellini—had a short life too. He lived to 33 (1801–35). On New Year’s Eve, the Metropolitan Opera staged a new production of his opera I puritani, set in the English Civil War. For my review, go here.

Thank you for joining me today, my friends. Very best to you.