The late, legendary Villanova University Athletic Director John “Jake” Nevin wasn’t my uncle by blood, but he was closer to me and my family than any blood relative could be.
As the Irish like to say, we’ll begin at the beginning. Jake lived near my maternal grandparents’ humble Bryn Mawr apartment near Lancaster Avenue, in which my mother, Doris, and my aunt, Joanie, grew up. Sadly, their father (my grandfather), Buck, had a stroke in his 40s that left him wheelchair-bound and speechless. My grandmother, Grace, was an attractive woman. Jake, who was employed by Villanova at that point in time, had an unrequited crush on her for many years. He knew Grace needed help caring for her paralyzed husband and two young, teenaged daughters. So he stepped up and stepped in – literally – helping with the in-home care of my sickly grandfather and the raising of two teenaged girls. His platonic love affair with my grandmother was the initial motivation. Over time, he came to care deeply for the entire family.
When we were kids, Mom would often take me and my three younger brothers to visit our grandparents. More often than not, Jake would be there. From our first encounter, he was introduced to us as “Uncle Jake”. And so he was and would ever be.
You can imagine how cool we young Keel boys felt when we and our friends would see Jake on TV during Villanova Basketball games. I was 12 or 13 years old at the time of the 1971 Villanova Men’s Basketball team’s epic NCAA Tournament run all the way to the championship game against UCLA, in which the Cats lost in a heartbreaker. Their names live on in Villanova history – Howard Porter, Chris Ford, Hank Simienkowski, Tom Ingelsby, Ed Hastings, Coach Jack Kraft and others. That summer of 1971, Jake brought Chris Ford and Hank Simienkowski over to our home in Lafayette Hill for Sunday dinner. The guys shot hoops in our driveway before dinner with me and my brothers. I thought I was the coolest kid on the planet, thanks to Uncle Jake.
When Jake came to our house, which he often did, it was always like an early Christmas, as he’d bring us kids old practice footballs, baseballs, basketballs and uniforms that had been retired from Villanova’s sports programs. When Jake returned with the V.U. squads from tournaments in exotic ports of call such as Florida, Hawaii or Puerto Rico, he’d gift us with painted pirate heads on coconut shells, carved wooden seagulls and other tacky tourist souvenirs. We thought it was the coolest swag imaginable.
Jake’s influence in my life was huge. So, as you might imagine, it became my youthful dream to attend Villanova University. Through the good graces of my parents, several student loans, and a post-high school summer spent taking three “prove it“ college courses, I was accepted to Villanova University in the fall of 1976. For my four years on campus, Jake made it a point to know my lunch schedule and cafeteria location. He’d visit me and my pals over lunch often, sharing his latest jokes and pranks. One of his favorite bits of mischief was slipping his cold, disgusting cigar butt in my coat pocket that I’d discover later that day. I can still smell those cheap El Producto stubs. It soon became known in my campus circles that I was Jake’s nephew and I reveled in my minor celebrity status.
The mind reels at the thought of the amazing athletes whose ankles Jake taped and whose spirits he uplifted in his 50-plus years as Villanova University’s Athletic Trainer – NFL Hall of Famer Howie Long; track star and Olympian Marty Liquori; future NBA basketball stars Paul Arizin, Wali Jones, the aforementioned Howard Porter, Kerry Kittles, Kyle Lowry, Ed Pinckney and so many others.
Jake loved all of V.U.’s NCAA sports programs, but it was on the basketball hardwood – his butt perched on his metallic trainer’s kit – that he always seemed most at home. It was fitting then, that the 1985 Villanova Men’s Basketball team, coached by Rollie Massamino, took down heavily favored Georgetown University to win the 1985 NCAA championship in the last year of Jake’s life. You may recall that Jake was in a wheelchair during the Wildcats’ improbable title run, as a result of a lengthy battle with ALS, more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. In typical, cheeky Jake fashion, he made light of the awful diagnosis, telling a reporter “How could I have Lou Gehrig’s Disease? I never even played baseball!” Complications from the disease claimed his life in December of 1985. There wasn’t a Villanova coach or player from that immortal 1985 title team who didn’t believe that their victory stemmed from the good luck and calming presence brought to them by that wee Irishman in the wheelchair.
Jake truly looked like a leprechaun. When asked for his height, he’d always respond “Four foot, twelve inches.” He may have been small in stature, but his impact on my life was enormous. Thank you for everything, Uncle Jake. See you on the other side.
