The billboard high above Westlake’s Sampson Street needed to be twice its size if it were to describe what Max Caldarera was to Westlake High School, his community and the thousands who came out to pay their respects and say good-bye to the former head football coach, who was so much to so many people.
The four words in the headline were a good start, as they glowed besides his photo on the digital sign honoring Caldarera, who recently passed away from a sudden heart attack at the age of 67.
Loving, caring, compassionate; a dedicated husband, family man, surrogate father, fierce competitor and teacher — these are just a few character traits of Coach Max, as he was affectionately called during his 34 years as the Rams’ head coach.
His sudden passing just four years after retiring after a long and successful football and teaching career sent shock waves of sadness and disbelief around Southwest Louisiana. Many beyond the borders of Westlake, in and out of athletics, either knew or heard of Coach Max.
The force of his personality saw to that.
It would be impossible to count exactly how many players, assistant coaches, students, teaching colleagues and fans Caldarera helped, influenced and supported in some form in his 34 years in Westlake’s orange and black.
But I am certain they know.
That desire to continue to give back to his community and affect kids through better education led him to run and win a seat on the Calcasieu Parish School Board.
He was just getting started on that mission — serving his first term — when the tragic news of his death quickly spread.
“I was shocked that he was gone. It was surreal and something I could not believe was real,” reflected Freddie Harrison, a former Westlake star quarterback and current Washington-Marion head coach. “The first thing I did was call to see if it was true or not, and once I got confirmation, it was a gut punch.”
The visitation and rosary at St. John Bosco Catholic Church in Westlake overflowed with long lines of friends, relatives and fans who wanted to hug Caldarera’s wife Wanda and family members and simply pay their respects. There was a who’s who in the coaching fraternity and former Westlake players, along with area political and law enforcement leaders, in attendance at the memorial and funeral.
The Prince of Westlake was beloved. That was evident when hundreds lined Sampson Street, some kneeling, and many in tears, as the hearse carried Caldarera back home to Westlake one last time.
The 200-plus victories, district titles, play-off appearances, Southwest Louisiana coach of the year honors, undefeated seasons and that one state championship game in the Superdome will always be proof of Caldarera’s coaching prowess and football knowledge.
That will be his athletic legacy.
His personal impact and influence on so many kids, players and coaches will always be the true foundation of who Coach Max really was and how his teachings and life lessons will be remembered and passed down for generations to come.
“[Caldarera] did a lot for me,” said former McNeese and current U.L.-Monroe head coach Matt Viator. “He reached out to me while I was finishing up at McNeese about coaching. For him, to do that meant a lot. I did my student teaching at Westlake with Max, and I was really close to Jamie Schiro (Westlake’s veteran offensive coordinator at the time) and his staff. I actually coached three years with those guys, helping, and was a part of it, and it really helped me out with my career.”
You hear a lot about coaching trees and how veteran head coaches develop younger proteges who go on to success and to spread the gospel, so to speak.
Viator was just one of many of Caldarera’s limbs that didn’t fall too far from the tree. “We all would talk about it and how fortunate we were that the generation before us — the Max Caldareras, Jimmy Shavers, Charles Vicknairs and Mike Johns — those guys did it the right way, and we all learned a lot from them, and I certainly learned a lot from Coach Max.”
Viator recalled how Caldarera was never afraid to change his football schemes, even in the latter stages of his coaching tenure. According to Viator, the Rams would run a spread offense for a few years, then maybe shift to the Wing-T and opt for a power running game if it suited Coach Max’s personnel at the time.
It wasn’t about ego, or his system rather than any other. He had an active mind: one that was open to new ideas and approaches. Caldarera was not blessed with a constant stream of all state studs. In fact, he schooled just a handful of three- to four-star rated players in his time. Tops on that list was former LSU and Dallas Cowboys tight end David LaFleur.
That’s just one all American amid hundreds of small town, country kids Caldarera and his loyal staff found peering over the fences or roaming the halls. They made these kids into tough, gritty football players worthy to wear the school colors.
It was all about getting his teams better prepared to compete beyond their talent deficiencies.
“He was a tremendously fierce competitor,” said Viator. “Coach Max was the kind of guy that would rip your heart out when you were playing, but the next day would give it back to you. Just a great person who would give you the shirt off his back. The games I had against him while at Jennings were so close and hard fought and so competitive. After games, you would see him, and he was laughing; carrying on with his arm around you. To him, the game was over, and we were all friends and in this together. Man, did I learn a lot from him.”
But the more important constant Viator learned from his former mentor had little to do with the game’s Xs and Os. “I was always impressed with the way he treated his players, which was fantastic. He was tough on them, but he loved them and wasn’t afraid to show it. And they loved him.”
Harrison was Westlake’s quarterback from 1995 to ’98. He was a flashy, dual threat run/pass combo with a live arm. He was highly recruited. A star in the making. Big man on campus. What Harrison remembers most is how his coach kept him grounded and on the right track.
“He would sit me down and scold me like his own son, and then sit down and talk like we were best friends. That’s one of the things you really have to understand about Coach Max: he wasn’t going to sugar coat it for you. He would tell you the truth whether you liked it or not. And that’s what I admired about him,” explained Harrison.
After his collegiate playing days at Northwestern State and McNeese ended, Harrison sought out a career in coaching. And guess who was there again, with a handshake, an open door and a first job.
Caldarera taught Harrison how to play and coach the game. He also stepped in as a surrogate father figure at a critical time when a young Harrison didn’t want to play any more football. “Going into my sophomore year, I didn’t want to play, and wanted to quit. And I did. And Max said, ‘Well, you’re not going to quit.” And I said, ‘Well, coach, yes I am.’ He said again, ‘No, you’re not, because it will be the biggest mistake you will make in your life and I am not going to let you make it.’ Harrison recalled it like it was yesterday.
Where would the 35-year-old Harrison be now if he hadn’t listened to Coach Max?
Caldarera was always teaching more life lessons than football skills.
That was even more apparent to another of Westlake’s star quarterbacks when a 14-year-old Channing Kile began playing limited varsity football for the Rams in 2001.
Kile had lost his father, Kevin Kile, from complications resulting from a long battle with Wilms tumor, a form of kidney cancer, when Kile was just 12. His older brother Mikey was only 16 at the time, and was already playing football for the coach.
A young Kile, dealing with the loss of his dad, was fortunate that men like Caldarera and Schiro were there to help guide and support a youth seeking fatherly wisdom and approval.
“I was just 12, and needing someone to show me the right way to do things: stuff that I use today, like being competitive; [not being able to] stand to lose; the work ethic that if I do lose, I understand that I can make myself better. [He gave me] a never-give-up, never-give-in attitude that I carried as I got older.
“As a kid, I didn’t know if I was doing enough to be as good as I wanted to be, and Max and Schiro basically told me I wasn’t. It woke me up and pushed me along at the same time.”
Kile, now 29, married, and with an eight-month-old baby boy, uses those lessons of hard work and disdain for failure with his family, the challenges of raising his son and the tasks of his work life. He acquired what he affectionately called “Max’s mandate” of “you hate to lose more than you love to win.”
Caldarera had more winning seasons than losing. But in 2004, things went sideways and south in a hurry. When it finally came to an end, the Rams were 0-10, with Kile as his senior quarterback.
It was a year most wanted to bury and forget. But Kile remembers it a bit differently. “In a weird way, I had a whole lot of fun losing every game. It’s crazy, I know. But I learned a lot. Even when we were 0-9, Max came in on Sunday’s film session and was constantly trying to figure ways to win the last game even when it didn’t mean anything. That’s the way he was … never give in,” Kile emphasized.
Soon thereafter in 2007, Caldarera’s positive drive and will to win resulted in an undefeated 10-0 season and a trip to the Class 3-A state championship game in the Superdome.
In small towns like Westlake, football is at the core of the community. Kile admitted that every young boy grows up thinking about playing for the Rams on Friday nights. Many before him, and up until Caldarera’s retirement in 2012, all dreamed of playing for Coach Max.
The Rams lost to Parkview Baptist that night in the Dome before what seemed like the entire population of the Westlake. But one of Max’s dreams was realized.
“I knew how much [Caldarera] just wanted to step foot in the Dome and play. Our whole off-season program was based around the Superdome and playing for a state title. It was the only thing we thought about. So for him to finally get there … I’m just glad he got that chance.”
At the crowded funeral, in the church’s foyer, I noticed a pair of ski boots and snow skis the family placed behind photos of Caldarera and his wife Wanda on a ski mountain. I’m an avid skier myself, but didn’t know Caldarera shared that passion. I wish now I’d known so we could have talked slopes, runs and cutting trails on his favorite mountains.
I do recall the time years ago when I went to do a story on his pride and joy, which was Westlake’s new turf field and impressive athletic fieldhouse. Caldarera gave me the guided tour, his face glowing the entire time.
We talked about the long process of funding, and then building, the facilities. A lot of football was mixed in, and I remember him explaining how different and, yes, more difficult it was coaching young men at that time.
He was concerned about all the distractions and temptations his players had to deal with. New tech gadgets, cell phones, early entry into social media, single-parent homes and his most prevailing worry — alcohol and drugs.
Through it all he kept teaching the same cornerstones of hard work, positive attitude, team work and the never-wavering will to win.
Winning was important, of course. But caring for and building his young players into better men, no matter their background or circumstance in life, was paramount, and the real reason he coached.
“I don’t know if he even realized what he did for people,” said Kile, as he fought off tears. “It’s just one of those things that you can’t really thank somebody enough for. You can’t put it into words. He helped shape who I am today, and I loved every minute of it. If I had more time with him, there would be a whole lot of thanking him.”
Many in attendance at the memorial service and funeral were there to help celebrate the life of Max Caldarera. On the other side of the pew, I’m sure there were more tears of sorrow and sadness over his unexpected and sudden death.
When it comes to Max, a man from humble beginnings, raised in little Elton, La., who strived to achieve success in professional and family life, I understand both sides of that emotional divide.
The stomach churns and the throat tightens with hurt and pain with the passing of a husband, father, friend and counselor well before his time.
Harrison, very wise beyond his years, offers a path to maybe a smile and laughter in short order, knowing that Coach Max lived a full and contented life. “He really was happy with the way he lived his life. A lot of people may think he had regrets over not spending enough time with his kids or wife. But he would not change a second of his life because of all the lives that he impacted by sacrificing time with his own family.”
Coach Max’s true gift and legacy can be found in Romans 12:10: ”Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor.”
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