A week or so ago, there was quite a bit of talk about Don Donoher on the UD Pride message board, most of it related to Bucky Albers’ fine story on his relationship with Yuanta Holland.

At the risk of blowing his anonymity, The Fly is going to emerge from his byline – and his third-person schtick – long enough to relate a personal anecdote about Donoher that is testimony to the character of the man. And for the record, when it comes to character, Donoher might just as well own the trademark.

I worked at the Dayton Daily News back in the 1980s (1981 to ’86, to be exact). Those were pretty good years for the Flyers – three NIT and two NCAA appearances during that span, including the memorable Elite Eight run in 1984. As a 1979 UD grad and native Daytonian, I didn’t need much stimulation to be a fan. But the fact is, I was more like a fan-atic. And my colleagues at the DDN knew it.

One wonderful year there, in celebration of my birthday, two former sportswriters – Jim Zofkie and the late, great Mickey Davis (both of whom also define the word “character,” not to mention “characters” – conspired to floor me with a surprise. It was a typical workday … until about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, when the faint sounds of the UD Fight Song wafted into the Features Department. It was another colleague (UD grad and pep band member Kay Minardi), trumpet at her lips. Trailing along in parade lockstep were Zofkie, Davis and Donoher, perhaps the only one in the office blushing more than me.

Mild embarrassment soon gave way to frivolity. Not only was Donoher gracious to a fault, he had time for everyone who had a question or comment or story to tell.

I bring this up in part because Donoher, for a number of years, had a reputation as a stern task master. His public persona was one of discipline, dour disposition and humorless servitude.

And results.

Within the coaching fraternity, Donoher was – and is – a legend. As is often the case, he was more respected by his peers than by the fans in his arena. Win 19 games, the fans want 22. Get an invite to the Big Dance, the fans want Sweet 16. There’s nothing wrong with that dichotomy, of course – it’s the nature of the game. But sometimes, it serves to obfuscate the true measure of a man. In Donoher’s case, the university often got more than it gave – which is another way of saying Donoher did more with less (less money, less athletic talent, less administrative support) than almost anyone in the business. Frankly, his results were better than most fans had a right to expect.

But then, that and a cup of coffee will get you … well, it will get you burned if bobbled. Better minds than mine felt the game had passed Donoher by when his unceremonious firing came to pass after the 1988-89 season.

As we now know, the university hired a replacement who – his welcome success with the Boston Celtics notwithstanding – couldn’t fill Donoher’s shoes. But in fairness to the university, it DID hire, in Jim O’Brien, someone who also oozed character. In Oliver Purnell, I might suggest, we’ve continued our bloodlines with good character and gotten back into the business of good coaching to boot. It’s not a stretch to suggest similarities between Donoher and Purnell – similarities I’d wager Purnell would accept as a compliment.

Which brings us full circle to the former Dayton coach who was, in some respects, everything his critics said he was: disciplined, dour, a stern taskmaster. In the pursuit of excellence, those are hardly detriments. No, they’re qualities – the kind that build character.

The Donoher I saw at that wonderful birthday celebration – the private persona – was laid back, jovial, friendly and caring. Here was a man who took time out of his busy schedule to honor Joe Schmo Fan – just because it was a nice thing to do.

In retrospect, it’s easy to see why those truly in the know hold him in such high esteem. Donoher is not a wooden caricature; he’s a well rounded individual with enough charm and talent to be nothing short of inspirational.

That’s not to suggest I write this as the deification of Don Donoher. Nothing I say here should imply he’s infallible, either as a man or as a coach. Lord knows there were times when I thought the game had passed him by.

But I did think, as was so aptly shown by Bucky Albers in his Yuanta Holland story, that it’s worth shining a spotlight one more time on a legend – and a legacy – that has character as its soul.

* * *

Not so fast! Here’s a postscript:

A couple of years after this party, I left for a new city and a new newspaper, and guess who put in an appearance at my farewell party?

You guessed right.

On that day, Donoher and I swapped stories about a couple of players, a couple of would-be recruits … and a couple of other things. But let’s save those for another chat down the road.