On Friday, I attended the memorial service for Tom Matte, the Baltimore Colts legend who recently passed away at the age of 82. It was, of course, in many ways a somber occasion, as Tom’s family, friends, teammates, and admirers gathered to mourn his passing. As befits the man, it was also a celebration filled with many laughs, stories (many of which were true), and memories of a life lived with gusto, smiles, hard-nosed toughness, and, most importantly, purpose.
A native of Cleveland, and a star at Ohio State, Tom arrived in Baltimore as the Colts’ number one draft pick in 1961. He and his wife Judy never left. After his playing career ended in the early 1970s, Judy and he made a life here in town as Tom worked in various sales roles, as a broadcaster, as a leader in the movement to improve retiree benefits for pro football players, and as a veritable “man about town,” who never met a group of people he didn’t want to meet, entertain and befriend.
I had the pleasure of meeting Tom for the first time early in my tenure leading this Y. He was apparently interested in meeting me, which was surprising since I was a nobody who had followed his career from a distance and was now running an organization that I didn’t in any way connect to this particular ex-Colt. It was over lunch at Café Troia (Tom’s long-time favorite restaurant, where he often presided and acted as its unofficial greeter and social director) that I learned why Tom wanted to meet me. It turns out he had a deep and abiding connection to the Y, and over the years since that thoroughly enjoyable and engaging lunch conversation, he was a constant presence and ally at our events, and was willing to show up just to be Tom Matte at virtually anything we asked him to.
At that lunch, Tom explained to me that he grew up a rough and tumble kid in Cleveland, a restless character with obvious athletic gifts but also someone who needed a lot more structure and discipline than most kids. He credited the local Y as the place he found that, as well as strong role models, and that put him on a path that would allow him to unleash his talents. He never forgot that. He was a star quarterback at Ohio State, where he played for the legendary Woody Hayes (who disciplined Tom by requiring him to live with the Hayes family one semester as his “penance” for something he had done; one can only imagine how tough that would have been for an adventurous extrovert of college age).
After arriving in Baltimore to play for the Colts, the Y once again became a foundational place for Tom. The Towson Y was the unofficial offseason hangout/workout facility for the Colts and Orioles of that era. There were no fancy team training centers back then, so the Y was a natural spot to gather. Tom regaled me of stories of overly-aggressive basketball pick-up games and having to explain to coaches how it was that Colts star Johnny Unitas tore his Achilles tendon at the Towson Y during a particularly heated racquetball match with Tom in 1970.
The stories went on and on over lunch. Tom clearly loved Baltimore and he really loved the Y. That never changed right up to his death. He even tolerated a certain Y CEO who had grown up in New York rooting for Joe Namath in that epic 1969 Super Bowl, a game that Tom insisted (and reasonably so) that the Colts should have never lost.
When we built the new Orokawa Y in Towson a few years back, we named one of the multi-purpose rooms in that building in Tom and Judy’s honor. It was one of the easier decisions any of us had to make. Their love of Baltimore and their profound understanding of the importance of a Y in a community was unwavering. It’s nice to know that Tom’s legacy will remain here at this Y, and those who use the Orokawa Y in Towson will know of the great, wonderful friend we all simply called Tom.
All the best,
John
John K. Hoey
President & CEO
The Y in Central Maryland