Before Gov. Tim Walz became the most famous person in America to coach high school football, there was Eric Taylor. Coach Taylor was sensitive.
Coach Taylor put his players first. Coach Taylor could motivate without screaming and denigrating. Coach Taylor took a back seat to the career of his wife.
Coach Taylor was cool and handsome. He’s what we think of when we think of the ideal high school coach: empathetic, humane, with a drive to win but compassion after a loss. He was the embodiment of masculinity without the obnoxious edge.
If coaching experience was the only criterion in running for vice president — and it feels hard to forget that it’s not, given the media frenzy around Mr. Walz — Coach Taylor would be the hands-down choice. But Coach Taylor is a fictional device, a character of calculated Hollywood imagination, played by Kyle Chandler in the television show “Friday Night Lights.
” Vice President Kamala Harris sprinkled her running mate with a little Coach Taylor fairy dust when she introduced Mr. Walz at a rally in Philadelphia. “Under those Friday night lights,” she said, “Coach Walz motivated his players to believe they could achieve anything.
” I have to admit, as the originator of that phrase with the title of my book, I was flattered, and the crowd definitely responded. Along with a pastor and a potbellied sheriff, the high school coach has come to occupy a central role in the lifeblood of an idealized small town. Everybody knows who he is an.