Bagnoli shares memories as he preps for final game at Penn

THE STORY isn't ending the way everyone at Penn had hoped it might. That doesn't change the obvious. It's still been a Hall of Fame era. And that's forever.

"There's very few times when something like this unfolds like a fairy tale," said Al Bagnoli, who will coach the Quakers' football team for the final time tomorrow at Cornell, in a matchup of 1-8 squads, thus closing the curtain on a 23-year run that was defined by a record nine outright Ivy League titles. "Derek Jeter didn't make the playoffs [last season with the Yankees]. There aren't many John Elways, where you ride off into the sunset.

"I tell the kids all the time that everything is very fragile. When you win, sometimes you win by the thinnest of margins. And when you lose, it can be the same way."

The Quakers are young in certain areas, and have really been beset by injuries. They also played one of the toughest schedules in FCS. Not excuses, merely an explanation. Last Saturday, the Quakers played as well as anyone has against unbeaten Harvard in Bagnoli's Franklin Field farewell. It still wasn't enough, and Penn lost, 34-24. Right now, that's the reality.

Along the way there have been a whole bunch of snapshots, even though he can't remember his first game at Division III Union College (Schenectady, N.Y.), except that it was a win.

"Honestly, I have trouble remembering what I did last week," Bagnoli joked. "That was 1982. But I couldn't tell you who we played, or what the score was, or how we played."

For the record the Dutchmen won at Rochester, 28-7. They finished 8-1.

His first game at Penn? That's different.

"We were going against the defending Ivy champs [at Dartmouth]," he recalled. "And we were winning at halftime. And I'm thinking to myself, 'It doesn't seem all that hard.' Then Jay Fiedler, who was a senior and would play in the NFL, threw, like, five touchdown passes, and we lost, 34-14, or something [actually, 36-17]. Once he got warmed up, he torched us. It was some crazy thing. And that was my introduction to the Ivy League."

The Quakers went 7-3 that season, after going 2-8 the year before. In 1993 and '94, they didn't lose. There was another unbeaten season in 2003, plus three others in which they lost once and three more in which they lost twice.

But what sticks with Bagnoli the most - and longest - are the many faces.

"The details get blurred, but I was really fortunate to deal with some unbelievable people," said Bagnoli, whose three children all graduated from Penn. "The kids, coaches, alums, administrators. It goes on and on. There was a lot of relationships. You get judged by the numbers, but that's not necessarily what you take away from it.

"You never really have time to enjoy the wins. And you agonize over the losses all the time. So you'd better enjoy the people and the surroundings. Because the other parts of it aren't always as important. I think I'm going to miss the best 2 hours of my day, which is being out there on the field [at practice]. Leading up to that can sometimes be a pain in the neck. The things you have to do, balance, deal with. But when you're with the players from 4 to 6, that's play time for grownups. It's like when you're a little kid. I really try to convey that to these 20-year-olds . . .

"I'll miss Saturdays, but not all the other things that go with not having anything close to a normal schedule. Am I going to miss waking up at 4:45 every day? I don't know. I'll probably do it anyways. It's hard to speculate at this point. But the finality of it is starting to sink in. I try really hard not to think about it, but that's hard to do."

Understandably, he did get extremely emotional at Wednesday's small-college luncheon. Tomorrow promises to be much of the same. Win or lose, it's a long bus ride home.

"I'd like to think I treated people fairly, that I was a good husband, father, family guy," Bagnoli noted. "To me, that's more important than anything else. We did things right. And we did it with a little bit of class and dignity. That's about all people should expect. I tried to be a good person. I'm sure I was a pain in the ass for 3 hours [during games]. That's part of it, as well. But I hope it's about more than, well, he won however many games."

Along the way, he also had to try to come to grips with the suicides of two players, senior Kyle Ambrogi and junior Owen Thomas, some 5 years apart. He had to ease his own mind and those looking to him for guidance. That's part of the legacy, too.

"We got rocked," he said. "For all those good moments, we had to deal with the ultimate tragedy. And we had to do it twice. You certainly don't wish that on anybody. It grounds you. You have a feeling of hopelessness and despair, and still you have to move on. It becomes very difficult. You don't have much rationalization to it, for kids or adults. What just happened? It's like a car accident or an illness. You hate to be called an expert for that kind of work. It's not a compliment by any stretch.

"But you have to learn by all things. Setbacks, issues. Sometimes more than you think is ever possible."

That's why it's called a journey. And it's taken him to the highest level of success. Just as it's brought him to this last stop. And all the stuff, good or otherwise, in between.

History suggests it might be a long time before West Philly experiences another such ride.