House of Huf

In a typical lifetime, a person discovers various places that are important to him or her. So far in my short lifetime, I have already found a number that have great significance. Almost no other place holds as much significance to me as does my high school track. Throughout my high school career, I spent countless hours and countless amounts of energy there. The track witnessed the evolution of my character, along with many of the best and worst moments of my life. I became very acquainted with it over the years; I can easily remember the various characteristics of it, down to even the smell of the rubber track on a hot, sunny day. Other tracks hold great value to me as well, such as the Baldwin High School track, the Southside Beaver track, and the Shippensburg University track. I have incredibly fond memories of all of these places. These places, however, and indeed any track anywhere, are inseparable from a person, my high school head track coach, Coach Hufnagel. His knowledge of the track, his passion for it, and the numerous similarities between the track and himself all contribute to the fusion of Coach Hufnagel and the track in my mind.

One reason that Coach Hufnagel has become forever intertwined in my mind with the track is because he is the man who taught me everything I know about track. When I first met him, Coach Hufnagel, known oftentimes as “Coach Huf” or, as I became even more familiar with him, just “Huf,” was a very intimidating character. He seemed like a pretty big guy to the skinny little freshman girl that I was. However, perhaps the most intimidating thing about him was the loudness of his voice. Coach Huf knew he could scream, and he wasn’t afraid to use this talent. I can still hear echoes of “Pump your arms!” whenever I’m running down a track. But while he was intimidating, he was also incredibly welcoming to all new members of the team and was always ready to help and teach. Before Coach Huf, I hadn’t the slightest clue how many laps around the track comprised an 800, let alone where the finish line was located. In fact, before I joined the team, I don’t think I had actually ever been on a track in my life. Without his help and guidance, I wouldn’t have been nearly as successful in my high school track career as I was. Not only did he teach me the facts of the sport, he taught me how to properly run! When I travel back to my old track, or even when I’m running on the track at W&J, I think of Coach Huf and all of the things he taught me.

Another reason why Coach Huf and the track seem intertwined is because of Huf’s passion for the track. I sometimes call myself a “track nerd,” and I certainly inherited that from him. Huf had run track in high school and was indeed a very talented sprinter, although one may find that hard to believe now judging by his bulky frame. He could run the 400 meter dash in under 50 seconds, which is very impressive for a high school athlete. Coach Huf carried his love for track into his career as a teacher and quickly became an assistant track coach, later ascending to the position of head coach. His passion for the sport was transmitted to the athletes he coached. No opposing team ever seemed to share the same passion for track as our team did. I finally had Huf as a teacher during my senior year for both sociology and psychology. However, I can’t recall ever calling him “Mr. Hufnagel.” It was always still Coach Huf or Huf. Class was often interrupted by track talk, and he used the subject of track for many of his examples in class. These instances were especially prominent during the spring semester, which was when track season began. Oftentimes, class time was used for strategizing for the upcoming meet. I’d even ice my legs during class in preparation for running later that day. While I, of course, had respect for him as a teacher, when I think back to high school now I never really think of him as my teacher; I think of him as my track coach. Because of his never-ending enthusiasm exhibited at the track, whenever I return there Coach Huf always comes to mind.

I associate both the track and Coach Hufnagel with many thoughts and emotions. One of these is intensity. For as long as I have known him, Coach Huf has been intense about everything he has done. From watching the 4x1 relay practice handoffs during a pre-meet practice to watching the 4x8 relay compete in the finals of the state championship meet, Coach Huf’s intensity never failed. Screaming at the top of his lungs as his face turned a bright shade of red, Huf made sure his athletes knew exactly what was on his mind and what he wanted out of them. The track itself is something that I associate with intensity. The workouts I experienced at my track are incomparable in intensity to any others I’ve ever partaken in. The races I participated in, not only at my home track, but at others, were some of the most intense moments of my life. Other emotions associated with both Huf and the track are nervousness and excitement. At important meets, Huf would get extremely nervous; we (the team) would know if it was a close meet if we saw him, as he put it, “running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” Additionally, no matter what meet it was, Huf was always exited and pumped up, and he did an excellent job of getting his athletes pumped up as well. I now associate these feelings with the track. Any time I enter a track, even for just a simple practice, these same feelings come back. I automatically get nervous yet excited for what’s to come because of my association of the track with Coach Huf and how he made myself and the team feel. Finally, both the track and Coach Huf taught me life lessons via tough love. Coach Hufnagel was always very tough on the team, but he cared about us like we were his own family. Every year he managed to make me cry, no matter how hard I tried not to, but he was trying to do what was best for me, and we always worked things out in the end. As for the track, it could be a pretty unforgiving place. It was a place of immeasurable amounts of blood, sweat, and tears. But at the same time, I learned so many lessons about myself while I was at the track. The track, like Coach Huf, helped me learn to be tough, to never give up, and that you have to love what you do. These characteristics and endless others can be attributed to both Coach Hufnagel and the track.

When I am at a track, Coach Hufnagel always comes to mind. I can picture his stocky body clothed in track gear, his bald head covered in sweat, and his black sunglasses shielding his eyes. I can hear his numerous sayings echoing down the track, such as, “Keep your head still,” “Get out,” “I’m gonna punch you in the face,” “Cheat now, cheat when you’re married” and “Winners have a purpose, losers only have an excuse!” just to name a few. Perhaps easiest of all, when I am running down a track or even just standing around stretching, I can hear him screaming my name, “Mosi!” to get my attention for some reason. I automatically think about Coach Hufnagel when I am at a track, especially the South Park High School track, because of the intertwinement of the two in my mind. My coach taught me everything I know about track, had an extreme passion for it, and is comparable to the track itself in so many ways. The track is his home. I am sure that for as long as live, when I think about a track, I will think about Coach Huf.

Photo taken by Brittany Mosi