A teacher at Cary Academy passed away this weekend. His name was Dave McAllister. I knew him as an athletic trainer, gym teacher, NC State fan, and a great conversationalist. He gave us shit all of the time because he cared. He always did right by the person first. And I’m incredibly sad that he’s left us. We even shared a birth date. It doesn’t actually make sense (he’s younger than both of my parents), but I guess that’s how life goes.
A bunch of folks are sharing their stories on Facebook, but I wanted to share a few Coach Mac stories here.
I remember driving down the highway once, and this car was stuck between me and a tractor trailer. I noticed that the car had NCSU around the license plate (one of those plate decorators that you screw onto your license plate). Because I was in no rush (I was probably skipping 2nd period where I didn’t have class senior year), I let the car get ahead of me, flashed them a Wolfie sign, and off they went. The car driver smiled at me, flashed the Wolfie sign back, and drove off. When I got to school, and saw Coach Mac getting out of his car, I realized it had been him. It was a connection we were both really proud of (often making fun of my brother in the years since he went to UNC).
As a coach at Cary Academy, he always helped me keep my cool. It’s hard to be hyper competitive, and then have a set of players who just don’t self motivate to do so. He often came down to practice to make jokes (sometimes at the players, often at me), and it kept me grounded, and it helped me out a bunch. He was genuinely fantastic at that.
Man. It’s just not fair. It just doesn’t make sense. Our last interactions were over Facebook helping him brag about taking his son to an Eagles concert, and making fun of Doruk for needing help reading a kid’s book from Amelia. I loved that he was always rooting for me no matter where in the world I was.
RIP Coach Mac.