There is an essential truth at the heart of this story: Vincent Bingham loved everything about the sport of track and field. Vince passed away last week. A 1981 graduate of Crystal City High School, he was known for his upbeat, gregarious nature, love for kids and passion for coaching.
Vince and my late brother Bill were classmates who shared many of the same interests, so I have known him for a long time. I remember when Vincent ran high school track. He was not as good as he liked to remember. But who of us are? His forte would be as a teacher of the sport.
Vince Bingham was a coach. Plain and simple. It was his
life. I know of Vince’s resume - high on accomplishment but low on monetary
reward. I doubt he ever had much money. Vincent never married, never had any
children. He liked to share stories of when it was necessary to advance his
early coaching career, he lived in his car. By most of society’s markers he was
not wealthy, but if impact were a bankable commodity, Vincent would have
resided in a penthouse. He left his mark.
Vincent was a man who brought a lot of smiles. He was always
stoked to be out there coaching his kids, being around his coaches and team -he
glowed through the culture of the sport. Kids were drawn to him. He was always
there for them- he kept Quick Trip hours. He knew all their parents. The kids
had his cell number. Vincent loved what he was doing. He was a content man, and
he knew it.
In Vince’s worldview, beer had its place. He considered it a
restorative drink, the reward due a man after an honest day’s work. He was in
his element at coaching clinics. He was in demand as a presenter, then, a fine
companion come social hour. Three generations of track coaches throughout the
Midwest have Vincent Bingham stories. Once a young coach asked me, in Vince’s
presence, how long I had known him. Vince answered for me, “since I was
skinny.”
Known for his unyielding expectation of excellence, when it
came to results, Vince was old school. He needed what all competitors need:
more. In the sport of track and field, there is nowhere to hide, no one to
blame. The stopwatch does not lie; the tape measure shows no favorite. I think
that was the real draw for Vince. He coached winning. “If you ran a world
record and finished second, you not only didn't win, but you also didn’t really
set a world record,” I heard him once say at a coaches’ clinic.
Vince always opened his programs to the frustrated and the
disenfranchised, offering second chances. He loved the underdog, he saw himself
as one, always fighting against those he found in administrative roles who did
not share his passion - for his sport or for his kids.
He was a motivator. Something about Vince made a prospect
walk away wanting to work more, laugh more, run more, give more. He was admired
not so much on the front porch of the sport, but in the backyard, where coaches
and former players appreciated the wide shadow, he cast. It is why we should
never regret the raising of dragon slayers in a time where there are actual
dragons amongst us. Vince was a dragon slayer.
Vincent coached everywhere. He never stayed in one location
long. It would take less space to list the area schools he did not coach at
compared to those he did. His 2006 Missouri Baptist University women’s team
produced a national team championship with 18 of his athletes earning
All-American honors. That squad is widely recognized as the best track team
ever assembled in the state of Missouri. Over his long career he coached five
Olympians. His recruiting efforts led to the Kansas University Jayhawks men’s
team winning the 2013 NCAA team championship. In 2009, when he arrived on the
Lawrence campus, the program was not even nationally ranked.
In January 2024 I took the track coaching job at St.
Charles, MO Community College - their sixth coach in six years. No track. No
budget. No roster. No uniforms. No schedule. And as I found in due time, no
administrative support. Since the semester had already begun, it was too late
for any transfers, so I used social media to recruit students currently
enrolled. Somehow that May our Men’s team would finish 8th in the nation.
One prospect showed up and said he had only run track his
senior year of high school and he enjoyed it. “Can I come out,” he asked. “Are
you breathing,” I responded. When I googled him, I found, true, he had only run
track one year at Liberty High School in Wentzville, MO, and he was also the
large school state 300-meter hurdle champion.
I told my newfound star that my hurdle expertise was about
the level of junior high. I texted Vince. He wanted video of three flights of
hurdles, no more or no less. I asked what I could do to aid the cause. Nothing
Vince said, “you try and coach him, you will just get him hurt. Just send me
the video and do exactly what I tell you to have him do.”
That was in mid-January. At the end of May in Utica, NY my
guy was crowned Junior College 110-meter-high hurdle national champion. Second
was a full flight behind. I cheered him all the way to a gold medal. I didn’t
coach him. Vince did that. I would strongly suspect many other coaches have
similar stories of Vince’s behind the scenes help.
Vincent’s health deteriorated over the last decade. Diabetes
cost him first his mobility, then his independence, but never his spirit. But
when the disease began to compromise his eyesight, that one he shared was
tough. Also suffering from congestive heart failure, in 2023 Vince was placed
in a nursing home. Plans and paperwork were drawn up to secure him in the
comfort of hospice care. You cannot bring down a sledgehammer faster than that.
The end was near.
The track world came to his bedside to say their goodbyes.
But Vince said he was not yet ready to hang up his whistle, rallied on the back
stretch of his life’s journey and a month later, walked out of the nursing
home.
Now, the St. Louis area track and field community circled
around him. There were numerous fund raisers and prayers. Coaching brought
Vince great joy in life. And after his dire final diagnosis two years prior, it
also brought him a great deal of strength to keep fighting - to keep coaching.
It was an extended escape back into his natural element. Vince attended this
past summer’s national AAU meet. He coached to the very end.
I have many cordial and professional acquaintances, but few
close friends. I considered Vincent an acquaintance. So, when Vince shared with
me 18 months ago his excitement over his return to his Christian roots, I was
surprised but pleased to sense the contentment in his voice. He said he had
spent too many years not living up to what he now knew was the right path and
he intended to use the time he had left to follow that path.
For those of us raised in this small river town on the banks
of the broad and murky Mississippi River, legacy means all. The beauty of
Crystal City is that time has passed us by. We no longer have the look nor feel
of a post-war mill town, which is exactly what we were – a place where for
multi generations immigrants worked long hours at backbreaking and lung-choking
jobs both above and below the earth. Those days are gone and are not coming
back. But today, the legacy still pumps strong. Call it "the American
way"—the competition of both the next man up and the last man standing.
Vincent thrived on accountability and factory towns are all about
accountability. Vincent Bingham was a fitting representative of a hometown he
always made proud.
If you untangle and then eliminate the baggage, the race of
Life is very simple. We have no say as to when and where we enter the race and
we have minimal choice as to when we exit. What we do control is how we run,
and Coach Vince Bingham ran hard, and he ran well.
How much, now that the end has arrived, was changed by
Vince? In the St. Louis area track and field world, they will be tallying that
one up for a while.
