A Caring Coach : Winning Track Meets Is Just Part of the Job for Ron Allice, Long Beach City College's Father Figure In-Residence

By DICK WAGNER

March 31, 1988 12 AM PT

Times Staff Writer

In the afternoon, Ron Allice would scream and shout and coach Long Beach City College to another track victory. But at 10 a.m. he seemed like a different man as he silently arrived to teach exercises at a senior citizens center. “When I know he’s coming,” said a woman in the class who was aware of Allice’s reputation in athletics, “I make it a point to come.”

A man of 48 with a body he has kept tuned and slender since he excelled long ago as a quarter-miler, Allice fiddled with his tape player. When the music began, he sat before the group of 13 and swung his arms in circles. The class sat and did the same. He had yet to speak.

Allice, dressed in a red shirt and blue pants, displayed the grace and seriousness of a ballet dancer. A jazz lover, he selected tunes by Count Basie, Duke Ellington and Sarah Vaughan, from an era the class identified with. Knees bent to the lyrics “Bring back all the passion to my heart,” and women wearing sneakers popular with the young high-stepped to “Take me to the river; push me in the water.”

About all Allice said was: “Get up,” “Make sure your weight is over the chair,” and “Take care because it’s hot and humid.”

After half an hour, Allice left the center at 4th Street and Orange Avenue near downtown Long Beach, only a few blocks from where he grew up.

“I enjoyed that,” he said of the class he teaches four times a week as part of his work for the community college. “It takes me away from the pressures of coaching.”

Allice drove his Acura up the Long Beach Freeway toward City College, where he is in his 10th year as track coach. Allice has lost only four meets as head of the Vikings. He has won seven state championships.

“My goal (in life) was to be involved in something in music,” Allice said.

He could drum, but he got to college because he could run. He graduated from Poly High School in 1958 and went to California State University, Long Beach, “before the fast people got there.” He broke a 49er record by running a 49.2-second quarter mile, slow by today’s standards.

He coached with great success at Wilson High, Poly High and Cal Poly Pomona and for five years at CSULB before moving to Long Beach City College in 1979 for a job that now pays more than $40,000 a year.

When Allice arrived at his office from the exercise class, he plunged into the details of getting his team to the afternoon’s track meet with El Camino and Cerritos colleges. He drew a map to Cerritos College for those not traveling in school vans. He made sure that his athletes had on the proper shirts and that they knew what time the vans would leave and when their events were scheduled.

Most Energetic Individual He’s Known

Said Bill Tisdale, a former sports information director at the school who first met Allice 14 years ago: “He’s the most energetic individual I’ve ever known. I’ve never seen a guy who cares so much about kids; everything he does is for the athlete. He drives me nuts sometimes. I’m supposed to meet him and he gets wrapped up with a kid on the phone.”

Allice’s office, which looks out on a parking lot and Veterans Stadium, holds an abundance of plaques, trophies, posters and inspirational signs, two of which read: “Tough times never last, but tough people do” and “You are here first of all to get an education--study.”

Academic reports were stacked on a table. At Allice’s request, teachers tell him whether athletes are regularly attending class and doing assignments.

“My responsibility is getting them to college,” said Allice, who estimated that more than 90% of his athletes go on to seek a four-year university degree. “NCAA rules say an athlete has to get an associate of arts degree (given for completion of 60 credits) to go to a Division I or I-A school.”

Quincy Taylor, a shot-putter, came into the office and told Allice, a father figure in short, parted hair and sideburns that were popular in the ‘70s: “I want to drop a course, Organized Crime. I can’t get up to go to it; it starts at 7 in the morning.”

‘I’m Here to Solve Problems’

“I would suggest you go ahead and drop it as long as you’re not going to drop under 15 units,” Allice said.

“I’m here to solve problems,” he added after Taylor left. “I want them to feel they can come talk to me.”

Allice’s success has not come without resentment. Other coaches have claimed that he recruits illegally, luring players from outside the Long Beach area. He maintains that top athletes from other areas contact him first, which is legal.

“I have this tremendous reputation as a recruiter,” Allice said, “but the referral system is unbelievable. Coaches at four-year schools are going to refer kids to our program because after two years in our program, kids know what competition is all about. And kids want to be part of a winning situation. Good athletes want good coaching--I feel we have as good a coaching staff as there is--and good exposure.”

The meet with El Camino and Cerritos began before empty stands in the early afternoon heat of Cerritos Stadium. The Vikings had by far the most team members, 60.

“I’ve always believed in numbers,” Allice said. “I’ve never cut anyone. If someone wants to be a part of it, he should be given that opportunity.”

One of the reasons Allice can have such a big team is the many donations he gets from shoe and sporting goods companies, which know Long Beach’s reputation and hope that when its athletes become world class, the firms can sign them to contracts.

Allice wore a black hat, the bill pulled down over his thick eyebrows, and a stop watch around his neck.

The brawny “throwers” were already out on the field, straining to fling the discus and hammer.

Found a Home With the Track Team

One of them, Barry Bogart, came to Long Beach as a football player from Las Vegas but has found a home with the track team. “I’m going to graduate with as few P.E. classes as possible, and (Allice) can get me into any school I want to go,” Bogart said.

The sprinters, in red and white sweats, were limbering up.

“You take a sweat real quick (in the heat) and think you’re warmed up, and you’re not,” Allice warned them as he leaned over the grandstand rail.

Allice watched freshman David Bowden approach a hurdle in the steeplechase. “Good job, David, nice rhythm,” he shouted through cupped hands. Bowden won, then walked into the stands weary and red-faced to hear Allice say: “That’s what the weather’s like in Bakersfield at the state meet, big guy.”

Marcus Hooks, who in an hour would triple-jump 54 feet 2 inches to break the Viking record, sat on the steps to the grandstand and assessed Allice: “I think he’s a genius when it comes to coaching. Any time I have a problem, he knows how to solve it, whether it be my form or speed.”

Allice had his arm around Brandon Williams, who had just run a disappointing 55 seconds in the 400-meter hurdles because he wasn’t ready when the starting gun went off. “Versatility,” he was telling Williams quietly. “Why? For scholarships.”

Allice later explained that Williams didn’t have his heart in the event because he sees himself mainly as a competitor in track’s glory event, the quarter-mile run.

“I want to prove to him that he can do other things. With only 14 scholarships available at major institutions, you have to do more than ever.”

Hours after the meet began, with the stadium in shade, only the mile relay was left.

“Throw water on your face; you’ll feel better,” Allice told Maurice Horton, one of the members of the Viking relay team.

Then Allice watched with satisfaction as Horton, Otis Dixon, Charles Lezine and Martin Cannady beat El Camino with a time of 3 minutes, 8.9 seconds.

The rivalry between Long Beach and El Camino is bitter because, Allice claims, El Camino’s “total objective is to beat us.”

Over the public address system came the announcement that Long Beach had beaten El Camino, 106-26, prompting Allice to say: “Listen up, guys. Remember where you settled things--on the field, not verbally. And you settled them.”

“Damn right,” someone said.

As Allice left the stadium with his wife, he was approached by a young man and a woman.

“Coach, I want you to meet my mom,” said Brian Hunter, a sprinter who last year ran at Gahr High School.

“Hi,” Allice said to Etries Hunter. “We’re going to get him stronger. He’s a joy; he’s going to be good.”

After the meet, Allice took his team to a restaurant for pizza. On a large TV screen, the Vikings watched a video of their afternoon performances.

The coach, still with his hat on, stood watching the screen, scrutinizing the runners as they circled the blue-gray track.

“Last year he talked with LSU, but he wouldn’t go there for an interview,” said Tisdale, the former Viking sports information director, who had helped Allice check times at the Cerritos meet. “He could name his job, but he doesn’t want to leave the area.”

The team members began to leave.

“See you, coach.”

“You guys have a good weekend,” Allice told them.

“It sounds corny,” he said when he finally sat down to eat. “But the gratification is in getting a chance to experience these guys’ failures and successes, seeing them excited, seeing them mature. The championships all run together, but you never forget the people.”

Allice was ready to leave for his Cerritos home but, as always, it would be a while before he’d be out the door.

He had to phone one of his track kids.