Almost Home

Hi, my name is Todd Stroessner. STROESSNER Matty. It’s STROESSNER.

In the 40 years I knew him I’m pretty sure Matts NEVER pronounced my last name correctly, but that’s okay, he got my first name correct EVERY time and that’s more than my friend, Justin (or is it Jason?) Barrick can say. Matts never got that one correct, but we both loved him for it just the same.

I worked for 5 years as a student manager for Matts and for 10 years I was Barney Rubble to his Fred Flintsone as a full-time equipment manager.

My Dad, was a UCC Minister. He did this eulogy thing fairly routinely in his line of work. I, on the other hand have never done this before. But when you get asked to get up and talk about your mentor and friend, ya gotta do it or as Matts’ old friend “SLAPSHOT” or, Herb Brooks (as the rest of us know him) said,
“If you don’t you’ll take it to your fracking grave. YOUR FRACKING GRAVE!.”
I don’t want that regret, so, with your help we’ll get through this thing together.
Sound like a deal?

In many locker rooms throughout the nation there are signs that say;
What you see here, and what you say here, when you leave here, it ALL stays here.
I’m told that the message is a hallmark of many Alcoholics Anonymous groups as well.
In talking with Keith and Mary Ellen about writing this eulogy we came to the unanimous opinion that with Matty’s passing the statute of limitations has expired, the gloves can come off, and some of the stories can be told.
In that vein, here we go.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR MANY REASONS.

In 1977 my high school football coach, Stan Skjei, a Gopher alum and friend of Matts’ lined up a “job interview’ for me a spot as a student manager for Gopher football.
I first stepped into the Bierman equipment room and met this hurricane of a man that spoke rapid fire and seemed overjoyed to show me around the room.
“GOODENOUGHFORSTAN IS GOODENOUGHFORME!
WESTARTAUGUST18TH!
GETREADYTOSTRAPITUP AND STARTPAYIN’YERDUES!
15 minutes later I was out the door having successfully completed the world’s easiest job “interview”.
Thanks Coach Skjei.

The rest, as they say, is history.

I LOVE THAT MATTS DANCED TO HIS OWN UNIQUE SOUNDTRACK THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE

You know planning a funeral takes an awful lot of work and so many decisions need to be made.
Keith and Mary Ellen have done a great job putting together the events for yesterday and today.
They asked me to help with arranging the All Equipment Room pall bearer crew and making these remarks here.
They never asked me about any music though.
Music was a huge part of Matty’s life. In the equipment room we constantly had a radio on with music playing as opposed to talk radio.

The first day that I visited Matts on his last stay in the hospital he was watching the movie Dirty Dancing. He told me it was his favorite and that he watched it every time it came on. Fittingly he listened to the movie, cuddling grand-daughter Kate, as Keith and Mary Ellen watched it during his last hours in hospice. The final song he ever heard was the “The Time of My Life” from the final dance sequence of that movie.

Matts loved dancing to that song.
Matts truly had the time of his life over his 73 years.
If asked I’d have suggested ending this service with that song.

I’d also have inserted an intermission somewhere here today with, “Tighten Up” by Archie Bell and the Drells, of Houston Texas.
You know, the guys who can dance just as good as they walk?
I once laughed about that golden oldie in front of Matts and he laughed along, but let me know, that back in the day, if “Tighten Up” came on, and you got a partner out on the dance floor your night was pretty much made. I’d also play that one because EVERY time we heard it he’d push up his sleeves, hike up his pants, pop into his stance, and clap his hands, HE WAS READY TO DANCE. It just made him want to move. And he often did dance to it. In the equipment room, by himself, with a HUGE smile on his face.
Pure joy.

To begin this memorial, if asked, I would have played Aaron Copland’s, ‘Fanfare for the Common Man”.
It’s an American classic like Matty. It starts out very simple, like a kid from the small town of Benson Minnesota, but slowly the orchestration is added and it builds to something bigger and grander like a young Matts becoming the prince of the athletic department and the czar of the 4^th street tennis courts for his summer student job, eventually becoming the football equipment manager, and heading the whole equipment operation at the UofM.

I find the piece fitting also since Matts, like many equipment guys, was basically a common man. We don’t have the physical tools to do the notable things that make the 10:00 news or the sports pages, but we help OTHERS do those things. We stand very closely by as those things happen.
Unbeknownst to most is the tremendously uncommon effort it takes to seamlessly move a football team across country and have everything good to go week in and week out. Matts was involved with that from his freshman year in 1961 through the 1995 season. He then took care of other Gopher sports for 12 years. 23 conference and/or national championship rings later, Matts retired in January of 2008 with 3 championship watches thrown in for good measure. He truly did the uncommon things.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR HIS PASSION

Most of you are probably aware that Matts was a recovering alcoholic. Before he found the cure I don’t recall Matts being particularly physically affectionate. Passionate, yes. Affectionate? No.

Doc Larson, the team doctor who admitted Matts to rehab for 30 days of spin dry let me know that he had worked with untold hundreds of addicts and that never, in his years of experience, had he met one that was as mentally ready for the cure as Matty was on the day in 1991 he checked into the TwinTowns facility.

Matts put in the work, completed the program and in addition to coming out dry Matts developed a new, more affectionate persona.
Approaching Matts most days back then now involved a BRO HUG and three pats on the back.
One of these.

(DEMONSTRATE MATTY HUG)

We started referring to them as MATTY HUGS.
In his honor, and as a modified version of Passing the Peace please Matty hug your neighbors now if you are so moved.

Thank you!

Many of you have seen the 1982 picture of Matts joining the end zone celebration from when Mike Hohensee scrambled to buy time and then tossed a pass into the end zone that the Ohio State defender tipped into the waiting hands of Gopher receiver Jay Carroll.
We hadn’t beaten the Buckeyes in a long while so Matts was understandably excited.
Joining the on-field celebration 30 yards from where he should have been stationed hinted at his passion. Rearing back and threatening to flatten the ref if he threw a flag to penalize the Gophers only confirmed his passion.
The freshman football manager who was just getting to know Matty looked at me and calmly asked,
“Will we be working for someone else tomorrow?”
Minnesota hung on for the win and Matts had a shot of brandy with Coach Salem in the equipment room after the game so it was all good.

Over the last few years, realizing that many of us are approaching the autumn of our years, we’ve been gathering at JD Hoyt’s where Pat Montague has annually hosted a nice Gopher football viewing party for Matts and many of us that have worked for, with, and around him.
Two years ago, the night before we gathered, while I rollerbladed on a path near my home, it occurred to me that perhaps we should do something at that gathering to remember those we’d lost since we’d all worked together. One of those departed was our old colleague Jack Johnson. He’d died of cancer and Coach Gary Wilson had dedicated a Cross Country meet to him, naming it Jack’s Run.
After deciding I wasn’t suited to lead a memorial at our gathering, within 10 seconds, I saw, on the trail, a lady wearing a “Jack’s Run” T-shirt. I’d never seen one before, and haven’t seen one since.
I took it as a sign that we better do something. So we did. We drank a toast in Hoyt’s private room as a memorial to our departed.
After doing so I related the story to Matts.
His jaw dropped, his spine stiffened, and he yelled, as only Matty could or would, in a public restaurant,
“HOLY SHI-ITE! IT’S A FRACKING SIGN FROM GOD!
I’ve tweaked the quote a bit, but you get the message.
I don’t know that a divine intervention has ever been described quite like Matts did just then.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON BECAUSE, WHY NOT?

Back in the day I used to find small doodles of arrows running all directions on random sheets of paper in the equipment room with the words, “WHY NOT” scrawled on each and every one of them.
Matts was always trying to solve problems.

While the idea of hiring a cargo plane to fly just the football equipment out to Colorado for our 1991 game in Boulder may have made sense on some levels, the cost would have been prohibitive I’m sure. Incidentally, doing just that without prior authorization, while working for the Philadelphia Eagles, is what got Matts’ and my successor in the Minnesota football equipment room fired from his NFL job.

Perhaps if we’d spent more time trying to solve for the issues raised by a 7:00 pm game time in San Diego, a city that doesn’t allow flights to depart between the hours of 11:30pm and 6:30am, then the football team may have gotten a chance to shower after the game, before boarding that plane home.

I’ve never checked the record books, but that may have been a first in NCAA Division One Football. Matts and I stayed late, packed the truck, and flew out the next morning only to hear, after arriving home, the tale of a very unpleasantly smelly team flight from San Diego to Minneapolis.

Matts even solved financial problems for people.
He co-signed for me on my wife’s engagement ring.
Sold me my first car, a 1971 Torino that was his wife’s car. It was in an accident and the chassis was crooked on the frame so it ran down the street at slight angle. It was the best $50 I’d spent up to that point in my life.
Hell, I was looking for a room to lease for the months of June, July, and August in 1981 just prior to my wedding. Matts convinced me that since my wife and I were paying for our own wedding it only made sense for me to live in a back corner of the Bierman Equipment room.
We had a couch, and a kitchenette back there and showers in the locker room.
What more could a guy need?
Saving that rent money was HUGE back then. It worked out well for us. Thanks again Matty…

Since Matts passed on last week I have heard from a former ballplayer that he is making inquiries to see if we can’t get the equipment room in the new Athletes’ Village named for Matts.
I believe those things take big dollars to accomplish these days.
Well, if it will take money to get that done I am willing to pay the 3 months’ rent owed, but only if earmarked for the Mattson Equipment Room. I’m fully prepared to cut a check, here and now, for the $180 that was the going summer room rent rate on campus back then. Athletic Director Mark Coyle? Let’s talk.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR BEING SO OUTSPOKEN

Rumor has it that the Minnesota state bird, the common loon, has a call that, for reasons that cannot be scientifically explained, does not echo. I believe Matts may have shared this trait with the loon. Jeff Seifritz, who officed next to the Bierman equipment room swears that instead of echoing back into the equipment room Matts voice typically carried, CLEAR AS A BELL, through the cinder block walls and steel doors that divided their work spaces. Astounding, right?

Matts is the only guy I ever saw give Kent Hrbek advice on how to play baseball AFTER Herbie had won a World Series Ring. I saw him also give Tony Dungy ‘what for’ about football after Tony won one Super Bowl as a player, and another as a coach!
I only heard, second-hand, from Keith however, how, on a trip to Tennessee Matts advised Peyton Manning to retire from playing to start his coaching career. Peyton scored one more Super Bowl win as a QB later that year.

On numerous occasions Matts, frustrated with the lack of direction from administrators, would say, “I’m not afraid to make those decisions!” With little or no regard for the fact that those decisions were WA-A-AY above his paygrade, and that those in charge hadn’t solicited his input.

None of that mattered to the guy affectionately known as the Chairman of the Bierman Board of Regents, as Matty was called by many in the athletic department.
As long as anyone would listen, Matts would let you know how things oughta be done.
I truly believe that’s part of the reason Matts ran the only university equipment room anywhere in the nation with the door propped wide open during regular business hours despite there being millions of dollars of athletic gear contained within. He wanted everyone to come in, sit down, feel comfortable, and chat for a while. It never mattered if you were a freshman new to campus, a High Flyer like Jimmy Brunzell, or a former player bringing your family back for homecoming. If you were EVER a Gopher you were welcome in Matty’s equipment room.

Back in the day Harry Broadfoot used to oversee both Gopher men’s hockey AND Basketball. On those occasions when both teams were in town on the same day one of us would cover basketball for Harry. EXCEPT if hoops was playing Indiana when Bobby Knight was coaching. Then Matts would step in and handle things. Knight was very outspoken like Matty was. Some might even call him a bit of a jackass. But Matty loved him. One time, when a sportswriter, like our very own Tris Wykes, asked a question Knight didn’t like he replied,
“You know, EVERYONE learned to write when we were in first or second grade. Most of us, however, moved on to bigger and better things.”
I’ve always suspected that Matty may have planted the seed for that epic take down.

Talking to Ted Steichen, a vendor, and old friend, shortly after one of Matts’ rants I was told,
“I’ve been around the world once, attended two worlds fairs, and three rodeos, and I ain’t never seen anything like Dick Mattson.”
Such a classic description of Matty.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR HIS TOUGHNESS

The archetypal story of toughness that Matts told involved a young Bobby Bell in the 1962 game against Purdue. Bell, a North Carolina native, was injured in the first half and was taken to the locker room where it was determined that he had broken ribs.
Just as the medical staff determined that Bell was done for the day the locker room door creaked open and in strode an older, very distinguished looking gentleman. Bell’s father had traveled from North Carolina for the game.
He was heard to say, “I didn’t travel this far to watch other men’s sons play football.”
Bell’s ribs were taped.
He played the second half.
The Gophers won. And the standard of toughness was raised to a WHOLE ‘NUTHER LEVEL.

Matts often said, “If you’re gonna stay up with the owls you damn well better soar with the eagles too.”
It was his tacit approval for his charges to go out on Friday night so long as they answered the bell and were good to go on Saturday morning. HANGOVER BE DAMNED!

Toughness was valued by Matts and those around him.
M Club President, George Adzick mentioned that Matts was a father figure that he and his Gopher football teammates never wanted to disappoint.
Chris Darkins referred to Matts as a “Gopher Gladiator” who inspired him to keep on fighting.
Old #90, Ed Hawthorne remembers Matts as the greatest of motivators on game days.

Matts’ yardstick was, “Every Saturday in the fall, when the ball is in the air, who can you count on to be there with you in the trenches?”
THAT is the standard of toughness Bobby Bell set all those years ago. It’s the standard Matts held for many of us gathered here today. And it’s a standard he exceeded for decades.

Heck, I even recall driving Matts home once after some athletic department function or another because he had drunk more than he intended to.
As Matts clutched a tree and puked on his own front lawn, a squad car containing two of Brooklyn Park’s finest slowed and stopped. The officers emerged and asked me what was going on.
Before I could answer, from behind me came another question,
“THEY GIVING YA HEAT, TODDY?” Matty croaked between wretches.
The cops and I laughed.
I explained that we just had about 20 feet more to go and he’d be safely home where his wife, Lu, could impose a sentence.
On that spring night, with no trenches in sight, and in no shape to do anything, Matts was ready to do battle with and for one of his own.
I gotta believe Bobbie Bell’s dad mighta been proud of that display of toughness.
Matts’ wife? Probably not so much.

I also recall sitting in a Waffle House, well after midnight, in rural Indiana, a Zubaz wearing Matts commenting in that drunken - I’m sure nobody else can hear it whisper - about the dental health of the nearly toothless locals in the next booth over.

I kind of thought we’d possibly have to fight our way out of that one… if only we could stop laughing.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR HIS CONTRADICTIONS

As long as I knew him Matts was a man of big appetites. He didn’t just like to party. He wasn’t just the life of the party. Matts WAS the party. Period. Chapter. Verse.
But he later took the cure and repeatedly participated in AA’s step 12, actively spreading the word and helping others manage their addictions.

There was never an adage or cliché known to man that Matts couldn’t butcher, yet retired athletic department coworker, Kathy Anderson, mentioned that when they were both students Matts passed her one snowy winter afternoon while she waited for her bus with the observation, “There’s nothing more beautiful than snow slowly melting on a woman’s hair.”

He put on a tough exterior but loved watching “General Hospital” and rejoiced when Luke and Laura finally wed back in the early 80’s. Later he was riveted by television coverage of William and Kate’s actual royal wedding.

He taught me that you don’t necessarily need to respect the man in the corner office, in fact sometimes you shouldn’t, but you still had to respect the corner office.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON BECAUSE OF THE TOOLS HE TAUGHT ME TO USE

When I close my eyes and picture Matts 3 items come into view.
Go ahead, do it now and let’s compare.

(PAUSE A BEAT TO CLOSE EYES)

Here are the 3 things I see.
First, the shorts, he ALWAYS wore shorts.
We used to take pride in those football seasons where we could make it all the way through the schedule, into late November, and wear our shorts for EVERY game.
Shorts and a parka? Somehow Matts rocked that look.

Always tucked away in the pockets of those shorts were a Sharpie pen, and dangling from another pocket was a lanyard, or shoe lace, tethered to an almost comically large key ring containing more keys than a piano.

A quick show of hands, how many of you have been told, “THIS is why we can’t have nice things!”?
Matts with his ever present Sharpie, marking shirts, sweats, and any other athletic equipment, could instantly turn nice looking gear into a bit of an eyesore, was the reason WE couldn’t have nice things back in the day. Countless former Gopher athletes, having recently heard of Matts’ passing, have mentioned that they still have their gear with Matts’ scrawls on them. Every time they see it their memories of Matts and the U. makes them smile.

In addition to making our job in the equipment room easier when laundering, and returning gear to players and staff, Matts’ scrawled markings could be seen as a mark of authenticity, and membership. Surely NOBODY would buy a Minnesota Football t-shirt at Gold Country or the bookstore if it had numbers or a name scribbled unintelligibly on them with indelible ink.
Wearing one of those Matty masterpieces meant you belonged.
You were on the team.
You had something unique, issued to you by a man even more unique.

Of the probably 30 keys that Matty carried on that key ring everyday at work, I’d guess maybe 5 of them got used on a daily basis.
True to Matty’s axiom that it’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it, he carried ‘em all.
That mindset also led to the need for a larger truck to move Gopher Football to and from games. In 1986 Matts initiated and sealed the deal with Bill Diercks at Berger Transfer to provide a beautiful semi truck, two drivers, and all expenses, for no charge. The arrangement, as far as I know, the deal still stands so Paul Luxem has been driving a Gopher truck for the athletic department for 30 years now.

As a young student manager being issued keys by Matts was an outward sign of trust and shared responsibility. It meant that you’d paid some dues and you were a part of the team.
Internally it granted you a sense of independence, freedom, and accomplishment.
Keys represent an optimism that you can go anywhere and do anything.
And that self-confidence is part of what Matts provided for many of us.
Whether you’re a young kid from St. Louis Missouri, like John Blackshear, or a small town Minnesota kid like Toph Hiller, or even THIS “Snot-nosed West Suburban kid”, Matts showed us all that with a few keys in your hand, a bit of hard work, and a few friends by your side, remarkable things could be accomplished.

Incidentally, on each of those athletic department keys was inscribed the directive,
“DUPLICATION PROHIBITED”.
When it comes to Matts, they haven’t duplicated him before or since. And I doubt they ever will.

I LOVE DICK MATTSON FOR HIS MATTY TALKS
Matty talks are legendary in the athletic department.
Whether a person needed a kick in the ass, or an encouraging word, Matts often was the one doing that talking.

Most of the time I missed the first few words of his soliloquies since the roar of 120 football players would go up as soon as they heard,
“LISTEN UP MEN! I’M ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE!”
“MATT-AY!” (From pall bearers and players in attendance)
See? It still happens.
Amazing isn’t it?

I’m sure most of you have seen those Little Free Libraries in people’s yards.
Have you ever taken a book out of one?
I finally did recently.
The book I grabbed was titled, “I’m Proud of You; My Friendship with Fred Rogers”.
A Texas newspaper writer, Tim Madigan, did a story on, and became fast friends with, Fred “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” Rodgers.
No one will confuse Mr. Rodgers for Matty nor the other way around.
But the book explores how these two friends met, supported each other, and helped each other grow.
It might be some sort of sign that I found this book in Matts’ final days.
The book mentions that in South Africa there is a word, UBUNTU, which means,
“I AM BECAUSE WE ARE. My identity is such that it includes you. I would be a very different person without you.”

I think each and everyone one of us, as well as countless others are different because of the time we spent with Matts. Whether you’re an engineer in Hastings like Tony Horton, a salesman in outstate Minnesota like Brett Bresnahan, or a fantastic father, raising a family on the wrong side of the river in St.Paul, like Jim Kimlinger, time spent with Matts changed us all.

At times he showed us the proper way to do things, at times he was a good example of how NOT to do things, but either way, Matts taught so many of us things we carried far from campus and use everyday.

And he was teaching until the very end.
I concluded each of my visits the last week of Matts’ life with final farewells because we never knew which visit would be our last.

The scene of his final words spoken to me actually might have made younger versions of Matts and I laugh. We always seemed to laugh together at the most inappropriate moments. Two old guys, one no longer able to speak with much volume, and the other hard of hearing. I saw his lips moving and couldn’t make it out so I lowered my good ear nearer to his lips and heard him whisper,
“ALMOST HOME.”

I think we should take comfort from those words.
Where dying might seem hard and painful, home is warm and comforting.

I believe Matts’ body was worn out and he was ready to let go.
He knew that he’d done all he could raising Keith to become a fine young man, and that Mary Ellen was there to see that Kate and he would be taken care of in a warm and loving home. 

WHAT I LOVE MOST ABOUT DICK MATTSON IS THAT HE IS FINALLY HOME.

You’ve heard more than enough from me, so I’d like to share 2 final things.

I received a very nice letter through the pipeline after Matts passed. It was written by a former occupant of the corner office.
I’d like share it here;

“The world is a sadder place but Matts has met his last head coach, who will be a lot easier to train than the previous 50 or more.

To Keith, Mary Ellen, and Kate, our deepest sympathy, but I know you all were his greatest joy through this difficult struggle.

To those of you who were blessed to be around him in the years since I left, the void will be filled with wonderful memories. A lifetime full.

The word “GREAT” is thrown around a lot.
In athletics, talent seems to be the common denominator.
But to me the truly great ones all have one thing in common.
They made their team and teammates (family, co-workers, and friends) better.
Dick Mattson was a GREAT ONE.

God you should listen to him, but be careful of the road trips!
With sympathy and love to all,
Leah and John Gutekunst

And lastly, I’ll end this with Matts’ own final words from his M Club Hall of Fame induction last October,

“I don’t know what to say to ya, but God Bless All of Ya!”