SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – Kary Vincent Sr. never missed a game.
Every Saturday, even after the late hours of coaching under the Friday night lights of Texas high school football, he arose early and made the 100-mile trek from Port Arthur to Alief, just west of Houston, to see his son, his namesake, play the game through which they’d forge their most intimate bond.
At an early age, father could see greatness in his son, Kary Vincent, Jr. He also could see the speed, strength, agility, and, most importantly, love for football that propelled Vincent Sr. to a career at Texas A&M and in the NFL.
And so, he drove, and he never left his camera at home.
“He recorded all my games,” says Vincent, Jr. “Shortly after that, I moved in with him in middle school, and he coached me all the way up until where I am now. Him being my coach at every level, it was like a film room 24/7 – at home, at school.
“We just loved football.”
On Wednesday, the day after Christmas, Vincent Sr. passed away in Port Arthur, months after a battle with pneumonia led doctors to place him in a medically induced coma for three weeks. He was 49 years old.
On Sunday, just days after his father’s death and days before LSU takes on UCF in the Fiesta Bowl, Vincent Jr. sat before a handful of reporters, a smile on his face and a lump in his throat, as he remembered the man he loved and the sport that brought them together.
KK Gone Live Through Me
— Kary Vincent Jr. (@__KCINCO) December 26, 2018
“The first few days were very difficult for me,” Vincent Jr. says. “Me and my father, we grew up around football. I wouldn’t be in the position that I am if it wasn’t for him. Knowing him, this is what he would want me to do, so I’m doing it for him.”
Some of the LSU coaches suggested Vincent Jr. go home. Instead, he made the trip to Arizona.
Nothing could bring him closer to his father than football, after all.
“It’s really the only thing that’s keeping me going,” Vincent Jr. says. “A couple coaches suggested I go home, but me knowing what my father would want and what’s best for me is definitely being around these guys.
“Football is what kept him going. That’s why I’m going to make sure that’s what keeps me going.”
FOR THE VINCENTS, everything was a competition. Anything dad did, son had to top. It was in their shared DNA.
“Everything he did, I wanted to do better,” Vincent Jr. says. “He ran track and won state in high school. I ran track and won state two times in high school. He went to the SEC to play for A&M. I went to LSU to compete with A&M. We just competed, with everything.”
When junior emerged as an All-American cornerback prospect from Memorial High School in Port Arthur, where father was defensive backs coach, following in the family footsteps to College Station seemed natural. But Vincent Jr. wanted to carve his own path, and a longtime family relationship with LSU defensive backs coach Corey Raymond made Baton Rouge a natural landing place.
“I knew his dad well,” Raymond says. “We knew each other way before, while we were in college. We have a long history of knowing of each other. Kary’s similar to his dad in a lot of different ways. He’s a little outgoing, like his dad was.”
“My dad was the funniest, realest person you ever met,” Vincent Jr. adds. “People gravitated towards him. He’s a loving dude. I hope one day I can be half the man he was.”
I love you daddy
— Kary Vincent Jr. (@__KCINCO) December 26, 2018
Just as son reminds Raymond of father, so, too, does Raymond remind son of father. It’s why, more than even an inherited competitive spirit, Vincent Jr. became a Tiger.
“My dad was real big on the little things, like Coach Raymond is now,” Vincent Jr. says. “That played a big part in me coming here. He reminded me a lot of my father. He was real technical. I’m thankful for that.”
As a freshman, Vincent Jr. wore 15, but when Derrius Guice left for the NFL, he switched to his favorite number: 5.
He already had his father’s name. Now he had his number, too.
“My dad wore 5 in high school,” Vincent Jr. says. “That’s why I wear 5.”
On the weekend of the 2018 season opener, Vincent Sr. and his family drove to Arlington for the Miami game. During the middle of the night, he awoke in his hotel bed finding it difficult to breathe. It was a recurring case of pneumonia he’d first picked up in the summer, and when he arrived at the hospital, doctors decided to induce a coma.
Seventeen days later, he woke up. As far as Vincent Jr. knew, the scare was over.
“To start the season, we were in Miami,” he says. “All this stuff kicked off, me being far away from him. That time passed with him getting better. This last month, the last few days, I didn’t even know my father was in the hospital. If I would’ve found that out, I would’ve gone back to see him. It’s been difficult not being able to see him, but being able to do what I love, what he loved, what we love, it’s what’s helping me get through it.”
Vincent Jr. only found out on Christmas Eve when he texted his father and his stepmother replied. His father didn’t want to talk about being sick.
Just football.
“I texted him the day before Christmas,” Vincent Jr. says. “That’s when I found out he was in the hospital. The week before, we talked about the bowl game. Regardless of what happened, football, even at that time, he didn’t want to let me know he was sick.”
DAVE ARANDA CAN see it in his eyes. This is a new Kary Vincent, Jr. Tragedy, even at its earliest stages, has changed his sophomore cornerback.
“I think Kary’s going to have a great game,” Vincent Jr. says. “You can see in the look in his eye, the determination that’s there. I think he wants to play out for his dad.”
The Tigers need Vincent Jr. They’re short at cornerback, with three regulars at the position – including both starters – unavailable for the bowl game. Vincent Jr. has moved from his nickel spot to the edge, and UCF’s high-powered offense will test him.
Kary Vincent: I’m my happiest when I’m playing football. These guys are my family. pic.twitter.com/jxY8PUnWuX
— Cody Worsham (@CodyWorsham) December 30, 2018
The need, like the test, is imbalanced. From LSU’s perspective, it’s a relative need, and, outside of the context of football, it’s not a “need” at all. LSU would find another player to play, if Vincent Jr., understandably, wanted to step away from the game. To mourn. To grieve. To process.
It’s Vincent Jr. who needs his team, his sport, this game, most of all. Not as a distraction, but as an homage.
To be close to his father, he needs to be close to football.
“I’m my happiest when I’m playing football,” he says. “That’s what I love to do. That’s what we loved to do. That’s what he coached me to do. Doing this, I’m honoring both of us.”
His teammates are understandably stunned at his strength. As he answers questions from reporters with a smile on his face, they wonder, How does he do it?
“He’s a strong individual,” says Grant Delpit, his roommate, who spent hours with Vincent Jr. the night his father passed and plans to attend the funeral scheduled for Saturday. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to a close family member.”
“He’s just had a tragedy in his family with his father passing, but he still came to practice like nothing was wrong,” adds Devin White. “I feel like he’s got a lot of pain built up inside, and he’s going to let it out on the field. He’s going to have a heck of a game.”
Ask Vincent Jr. how he’s maintaining strength, and he credits his teammates, like Delpit and Todd Harris.
“They check on me all the time,” he says. “We’re real close knit. We stay together. They keep me in good spirits.”
It’s like his father taught him: football is family.
“Family first,” he says. “I consider these guys my family as well. This is what my father would want. I didn’t think twice about leaving.”
Why would he? Even in death, there is hope, and Vincent Jr. sees it and seizes it.
The hope is this: Hurricane Harvey destroyed Vincent Sr.’s home in 2017; illness limited his travel in 2018. After never missing a Pop Warner game, Vincent Sr. never saw his son play at LSU.
On Tuesday, though, his son will do what they loved most. Vincent Jr. will carry to the field his father’s memory in his broken heart, but he will emerge, afterward, a little more healed.
And somewhere above, Vincent Sr. will enjoy the game with a view only eternity can offer.
“I’m motivated more than ever,” Vincent Jr. says. “My dad never got to see me play here. Last year, the hurricane hit his home. This year, he was really sick.”
“I’m ready to play for him. I’m just going to go out and play for my pops.”