Remembering Joey Browder

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of The West Alabama Watchman.

He never surprised me. In the very best of ways, he never surprised me. That’s probably the most surprising thing I can tell you about him. Typically, the longer you know someone, the higher the chance they’ll show you something about themselves that runs counter to what or who you thought they were. That never happened with Joey Browder.

From the first day I met him tending that Demopolis High softball field in which he took great pride – a field that I’ve long considered to be Browder Field because of his level of investment – Joey Browder was as stable and consistent of a human being as anyone could meet. That’s a grand statement in the high school coaching ranks. In Demopolis, most coaches rode into town, invested for a while and either burned out or left for greener pastures. Every one of them brought a different temperament, a different tone, a different approach. Those things worked or they didn’t, but most coaches were never long for the City of the People.

Joey Browder was as much a part of the fabric of the Demopolis High landscape as the structures that populate the campus or the colors that adorn its beloved student-athletes. It never seemed to matter who the head football coach was. With every change of head coach, so changed the temperament, tone, and approach. But never Joey Browder. Whether he was surrounded by a coaching staff full of family men of comparable age or the young 20-somethings full of spit and vinegar that he took time to mentor, Joey Browder gave the same effort every day. He coached with passion and held himself accountable with a measure seemingly lost to a bygone era. He hated to lose but never lost himself in winning or losing. And he demanded many of the same characteristics from the young men and women under his tutelage.

He had a unique way of connecting with his players and understanding how to meet each one where he was. He knew what each player could handle and he approached accordingly. He demanded their best while holding them accountable as players and as people. There was never a question that he loved them.

Joey was unassuming and humble. He seemed to know the value of words and when to not use them. He was comfortable with quiet and liked the simplicity of things like taking the boat out and putting a hook in the water. Early in my career in Demopolis, he extended an open invitation to take such a fishing trip. I never took him up on it. And he would remind me intermittently with a deadpan ribbing that we were still friends even though I had yet to take him up on it.

As great of a loss as Joey Browder is to Demopolis athletics, his departure from this life represents just as big of a hole in the classroom. Some coaches teach because they have to. They are coaches first and educators second. The longer I knew him, the more I pictured Joey as an educator that also coached. I had the pleasure of stepping into his class on numerous occasions. I always found it impressive that he juggled teaching AP History while coaching (sometimes multiple sports). He took tremendous pride in his students’ successes and he taught his classes with an excitement about the subject matter.

History seemed to make sense to him. He seemed to see how things connected together and why they mattered. Maybe it was that perspective that helped make him so effective for so long as a coach. He understood how things fit together and why they mattered. Perhaps because of that, he recognized his role in bringing stability amid seemingly ever-changing circumstances.

In 12 years of knowing him, he never surprised me. And I’m sad to say that there are not very many more like Joey Browder.