At Pershing, Will Robinson mentored future NBA guard Ralph Simpson and future Tigers outfielder Marvin Lane, whom I taught in an English class. Future NBA forward Spencer Haywood starred there, too, along with future pro grid-men Glenn Doughty, Walt Williamson and Paul Seal. That versatile foursome competed for me in track – along with future U-M basketball standout Jon Lockard. At Cass Tech, Will coached future NBA player George Brown, my old WSU track teammate. At old Miller, Will’s PSL champions, starring the great Sammy Gee and Charlie Primas, were nearly invincible despite the fact they had no gym and had to contend with biased White officials in addition to rival teams (the Detroit PSL didn’t compete in the state tournament during Will’s years there).

Will Robinson became the first head coach of an NCAA Division IA team (Illinois State, where he had a winning record and coached All-American Doug Collins, who late became an NBA All-Star and the Pistons’ head coach). Will was a talent scout for the Lions and Pistons, and later the Pistons’ assistant general manager.

At 72, I am the last PSL head coach still alive who coached with Will Robinson. My 1966 and 1967 Pershing teams never lost a dual meet, won multiple titles, and featured city and state record-breaking relay teams (future self-help author Wayne Dyer was my assistant). Thus, as Will’s former colleague and long-time friend, I felt impelled to attend yet another ceremony honoring him. This time, it was at Pershing, where at halftime of the Dec. 18 Finney-Pershing basketball game (won by Pershing over a previously unbeaten Finney team), a banner on the balcony track railing facing the gym was unveiled, emblazoned with Will’s name, commemorating his 1967 and 1970 state champions – and this time it was in absentia since the 96-year-old legend is now in a Harper Woods nursing home and unable to attend.

Will Robinson Jr. did attend. So did Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick. So did George Brown, Ralph Simpson, Paul Seal, and another Pershing hoop standout, Jim Connally. So did Tom Jones, one of my record-breaking Doughboy quarter-milers.

Many stars, many memories. I remember the day principal Al Zack angrily ordered Will to stop hitting his players with his leather whistle cord when they made a mistake in practice. “OK, chief,” Will assented. When Zack left, Will filled a bucket with water, dipped a shoelace in it, and resumed the whippings. Months later, when Will heard I’d slapped long jumper, Freeman Noble, for cursing an official who had called a third foul on him, he took me aside and said, “John, you mustn’t hit the kids.” I replied, “Will, you’re absolutely right. We mustn’t do that, you and I.”

While I (usually) used psychology on our athletes’ minds, Will wore out his whistle cord on their behinds. Still, I’ve come to wonder whether maybe today’s kids need less psychology and more whistle cord. There can never be another Will Robinson, but the PSL desperately needs a hundred like him. We both coached winners in many schools, and I sent three to college on athletic scholarships. Will sent 300 – and that 300 will forever remain his most lasting legacy.

Retired deputy school superintendent John Telford was a world-ranked sprinter at WSU. He teaches and administrates at Finney, where the track is named for him. Write him at john.telford@detroitk12.org.