HEARTLAND PEOPLE: Duncan Molds 'Better Citizens' Through Youth Football

Robert Duncan wants his team to stay together, even long after they've outgrown their shoulder pads and cleats.

As head coach of the Sebring Youth Football League's Blue Streak PeeWee football team, Duncan, 67, stresses straightforward plays and straightforward lessons for his 10- to 12-year old players, who he wants to grow and succeed on and off the field.

It starts with a simple idea: Your teammates are your teammates, even when the game is long over.

"We tell them, when you see your teammate at school, you say hello to them and ask them how they're doing," Duncan said. "He's your teammate, even when he's in school."

And Duncan, despite describing himself as "never more than an average player" during his high school days, is their coach.

The retired pharmacist decided to take up working with kids on a whim, when he saw a sign in a yard five years ago seeking youth football coaches. A longtime lover of the game with some extra time on his hands, Duncan figured he'd give it a shot after talking with his wife of 47 years, Caroline.

Knowing his love for the game (she watched him play while the two were high school sweethearts in Michigan), she encouraged him, though his coaching beginnings were certainly humble.

"I started out fifth in command on a flag football team," Duncan laughs. "But I decided I couldn't coach flag - I had to coach contact."

Five years later, Duncan led the Blue Streaks - who joined the Mid Florida Football Conference prior to this season - to its first 10-0 season in league history. But records and stats pale in comparison to the impact Duncan feels he's made on the lives of his young players.

"We had five kids this year who never played football, and at the beginning of the season, they were just victims," Duncan said. "They were getting run over all the time, but as they matured, and as we pointed out that they didn't want to get run over all year long, they turned around and became more aggressive.

"At the end of the year, it's cool to see them with that glare in their eye. Now they're the ones looking to hit somebody."

But what happens between the lines is only half the story. Duncan says the wins matter less than the small victories he sees every day when coaching his boys.

"We have kids that come in and don't know what the terms 'please' and 'thank you' are," Duncan says. "We try to subtly teach them to be polite to people and if you make a mistake, apologize."

Duncan says he's trying to build character. And it all starts with him and his coaches.

"There's been times where I've made mistakes and I tell the kids, 'Hey, I'm sorry,' " he says, his eyes beginning to well up. "Hopefully it has a positive impact on those kids, that at adult can make a mistake and can admit it, and not try to cover it up for just forget about it.

"Winning football games is not the ultimate goal here. Making these kids better citizens is: We give these kids some guidance with how to deal with adversity in their lives, because unfortunately, a lot of kids have real problems in their lives."

Still, the on-field victories have been plentiful for Duncan, who employs an old-school style of offense that stresses misdirection and surprisingly doesn't include a quarterback.

"We fool the referees sometimes," Duncan says with a grin. "The fans enjoy watching the games and we make it fun for the kids. Many times, coaches forget these are 10-11-12-year olds, and they don't know about strong side, weak side, or zone blocking."

His team's style has been noticed by the competition, which often asks to see Duncan's playbook after games.

"Coaches tell me they've never seen anything like it," Duncan says. "They haven't seen it because it's 50 years old!"

But Duncan isn't merely teaching his players the game, he's learning something from them, as well.

"I've learned not to make snap judgments," Duncan says, relaying a story about a player who showed up to practice with a bad attitude and an unwillingness to listen to his coaches. After a few rounds of hollering didn't get his attention, Duncan pulled the player aside to see what the problem was.

"I went over, put my arm around him and said, 'What's going on?' " Duncan says, tears in his eyes. "He says, coach, I'm having a bad day.

"We don't know what some of these kids go through in their home life, so we've learned to maybe ask a kid what's going on instead of yelling at him."

Duncan said he'll continue to coach as long as his health allows, and that he hopes there are more like him out there who will find time to give back to a game that teaches more than tackling and touchdowns.

"There has to be other retired men who played football in high school or college who'd be willing to be an assistant coach," Duncan says. "As soon as they meet these kids, they'll see how much fun it is."