Tribute to Joe A. Rodriguez †
By Debbie Rodriguez Pringle
(oldest of four children)
Delivered at Funeral Service April 12, 2021
The Rodriguez/Alamia/Vela clan was – and continues to be – a social and gregarious group. Barbecues, parties and reunions were a constant theme of his family life. His mother and sisters, the consummate hostesses could be found navigating the kitchen, while our Dad, his father and his brothers manned the smoking pit and the ice chest. With this family, it was always about surrounding yourself with those you loved and making sure everyone had a plate full of food and a cold beer to go with it.
Dad and his brothers Jr., PeeWee and Romeo carried this tradition with them to Brownsville where they all settled. Although they sometimes disagreed with one another, the Brownsville brothers were raised with the knowledge that family was family and at the end of the day that was all that mattered. Their children and all the grandchildren became a big part of Dad’s life, especially in his later years as he cheered them on from his front row seat at their games, performances and graduations. To his grandchildren, Papa Joe always doled out his trademark $2 dollar bills and never failed to praise their accomplishments and encourage them to work towards their goals.
The women in Dad’s life were just as strong and influential. His mother and his sisters, Diana, Cristina and Baby and his cousin Ollie were remarkable in their own right. The social gatherings and family events that were an intrinsic part of this family’s life would never have happened successfully without them.
Enter, the most important woman in his life, our Mom – Emma Leal whom he met and fell in love with in college at Pan American College. Theirs was a classic Hollywood style love story. I think we can all agree that they were a good-looking couple. Dad was tall, handsome and brimming with charisma and our Mom was beautiful, elegant and dignified. Though they matched one another in good looks, their personalities could not have been more opposite. She was the yin to his yang, but together they made it work and successfully raised four children -- Tony, Lucky, MonDe and me. In our Mom, his wife of 56 years, Dad recognized he had out punted his coverage and he often referred to her as the “wind beneath his wings.”
With a personality as big as Texas, Dad collected friends from all walks of life and all corners of the globe, and they became permanent fixtures in his life. Once you were on Team Joe, you were a lifelong member – like it or not. As a member of Team Joe, you knew you had hit paydirt when you received the ultimate nod – an invitation to Champions.
Champions, Dad’s office – his man cave – was borne from the need for another closet for his biggest collection of all – his world-class stockpile of colorful clothing. Never one to pass up a sale at Ross, Steinmart or Nordstrom Rack, Dad amassed a shoe collection that rivaled that of Imelda Marcos. Each of us would return home during college breaks only to find that our clothes had been pushed to the far corners of our closets in order to accommodate Dad’s burgeoning wardrobe. Lucky, the true beneficiary of Dad’s shoe hoarding, shares the same 12 shoe size and as a result has not had to purchase a pair of shoes in years. Best of all, thanks to our Dad, the Goodwill drop-off center will reach their donation quota for the year in record time!
Champions became the site for Dad’s football watch parties, Lions Club meetings and political campaign strategy sessions. Champions was decorated in classic Dad style – there was an office, but the true heart of the place was the entertaining area (the Man Cave) where the floors were constructed from wood taken from a discarded basketball court and the walls were covered with sports memorabilia and photos of Dad with sports legends many of whom were personal friends like Tom Landry, Bob Lilly, Earl Campbell, Mike Ditka, Dan Reeves, Robert Garza and Jeff Gossett and many others. Big screen TVs and old beat up but very comfortable sofas completed the entire Joe Rod décor statement.
Along with the social gatherings, there was traveling to be done, and usually those trips included a Bowl game and heavy negotiating with ticket scalpers. The highlight of the season was the Super Bowl trip, an annual event for more than 30 years. These trips were always done on a wing and a prayer and included a motley crew of his best friend, Tom Chavez, his elder brother Jr. and his dear friend and fellow Notre Dame loyalist Harry Odem. In the early days – the lean years – they would show up with nothing but the smiles on their faces and a half-baked plan on how to gain admission. In the end, they always managed to score tickets, and even invitations to exclusive parties and impossible-to-get-into restaurants. One Super Bowl year, Joe and Tom masqueraded as reporters for the “Valley Times.” Of course, they got in and even had a feature story in the Oakland Tribune about their escapade.
For Dad, coaching was a labor of love that never diminished for him and he often remarked that work as a coach was never really “work.” Dad thrived on competition, enjoyed the camaraderie with his fellow coaches, but most of all, he embraced the opportunity to have a lasting positive impact on the youth of Brownsville.
Some wonder what it was like growing up with the force of nature that was our Dad – the icon, the legend and all the other nice and some not so nice descriptors used for him. I won’t say it was always easy, it certainly came with some challenges, but this much I know is true. My siblings and I always felt loved and knew that no matter what, he was there for us.
Dad was someone we admired, not so much because of his accomplishments or his awards, but because he lived his life according to his rules and didn’t worry about what others said or thought about him. He fought for the underdog, the less fortunate and those in need. If you were in trouble or struggling in some way, he was there for you at any hour or in any way.
One Sunday in 1989, Dad walked into the house and introduced my Mom to a complete stranger, informing her that he would be staying in our home for a while. This man turned out to be Jim Kilroy whose son, Mark, had disappeared in Matamoros while on Spring Break. All that mattered to my Dad was that this man was sitting alone at the back of St. Luke’s Church and he clearly needed help.
Dad was not a man who lived with regrets. I can never remember a time when I ever heard him say “If only I had done this or I wish I hadn’t done that.” He embraced life with all its ups and downs, took risks, made some mistakes along the way, but just kept on going. One such lapse in judgment was when he approached O.J. Simpson at the Kentucky Derby sometime after his acquittal and proudly proclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I believe in you, O.J. even though none of my family does!” That was Dad, loyal to a fault.
Dad had an incomparable zest for life and a fearlessness that sometimes left us – his children shaking our heads and holding our breath; but always in the end we came to the conclusion that his will would prevail. Win or lose, he was there to play, not to watch. He taught through his example that life was for living, “can’t” was not a part of his vocabulary, and age was just a number. He always felt he had more to give and his ideas were plentiful.
We want to thank all of you for the outpouring of support and love for our Dad and the sharing of many personal stories of how he helped you and others at early points in your lives and careers. Without naming names, here are just a few examples.
– One friend said: “When I was in junior high, he went out and bought me a pair of shoes because all of the shoes I owned had holes in them.”
– Another said: “Your dad not only helped me obtain a track scholarship and drove me to the station. He then emptied his pockets, gave me all the money he had and put me on the bus to college.”
– And another: “I was a high school football player without a scholarship. Coach Joe called the athletic director at Texas A&I University, who said that they didn’t have any remaining football scholarships. Coach Joe convinced them to open up a track scholarship for me.” That athlete did end up playing football and eventually played 14 years in the NFL.
There are countless people – many who are here today – who were an important part of our Dad’s life. He loved all of you and I think you know he did. He loved Brownsville and the Valley.
Today, we are happy knowing he is hosting a barbecue with his parents, our mom, his sisters Cristina and Dee and their husbands Arturo and Bryce, Uncle Jr. and Aunt Dora, Patrick and Aunt Bonnie, his beloved nephews Johnny Joe and Ricky and Uncle Tom, and his dear friend Harry Odem. He has a cold Coors in his hand, a Fighting Irish cap on his head, and is regaling them with his stories.
We think he would have three messages for you all: Enjoy your life! Take chances! Keep fighting for the kids of Brownsville and the Rio Grande Valley!