By Bill Riccio, Jr.
He could be difficult, sometimes almost impossible to reason with when his “Irish” was up. But there was no doubt what Ed McCarthy wanted was a fair shake for his team, which he called his “kids,” and was going to make his displeasure known if he thought something was wrong. For four decades McCarthy mentored and instructed young men on the field of sport – and he did it well. Like him or hate him, Ed McCarthy did his job and molded disparate teenagers into strong competitors and did what we like to think coaches should do – teach life lessons.
As a person who worked games as a baseball umpire and football official for McCarthy when he was at St. Joseph’s and when he moved over to West Haven, I got to know the coach, and the man. Off the field, McCarthy was like anyone else, and could be very engaging in conversation with a wry Irish wit, and twinkle in his eye. On the field friendships ended at the foul line or sideline. Relationships were for off the field. Heck, I remember a time he went after a football official for a call, and that person was in his wedding party.
On the field, he was another person: driven, focused and, when the occasion called for it, loud. There are many photos of Ed going it at with officials, some made the photo boards leading into the funeral parlor last week. But many officials lined up at West Haven Funeral Home to pay their respects. They, too, were on the receiving end of his wrath at times, but they, too, respected the job he had done for so many decades.
Even after he retired in 2015, he would camp out in his lounge chair in the south end zone at Ken Strong Stadium, watching the game. If a play happened and he was unhappy, he let the crew know, and as loudly as possible. In later years, one of his sons played at Choate in Wallingford. I had the game versus archrival Deerfield in front of about 2000 people, all wringing the field. Choate was ahead by a lot, but a controversial call was made by one of my crewmates. Out of the din came a loud voice protesting the call – we all recognized the voice.
And Ed was different than most coaches, particularly in football. He knew the rules well. Most coaches know the rules but stay out of the weeds. In both football and baseball, a sport he coached at high school and collegiate levels, if he questioned an official on a rule, that official better know the correct application.
My own introduction to him was at a St. Joe’s-West Haven scrimmage way back when Whitey Piurek still coached West Haven in baseball. I had the plate, and Eddie did not like some of the calls. He let me know. Weeks later, I had him against Notre Dame at a night game in Quigley Stadium. It was a tough game, hard-fought game, with ND coming out in the end, 4-3. I was on the plate, and the winning run was walked in to end the game.
We had words, and those words eventually continued outside the ballpark in front of a local establishment. He had his say, I had mine. From that time on, we had a mutual respect, and what came to be a friendship so many years later. We sat at banquets together and had a fun time. Once, he could not find a seat at a banquet, and the officials invited him to the “dark side.” It was quite the event.
McCarthy respected officials who respected the game, and knew it, understanding the game is more than just rules and enforcement. Like the song says, “You gotta know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em.” Good officials know when and where they need to impose themselves. And Ed would push the envelope. How much an official let him get away with as far as jockeying the official was always part of the game within a game. Officials who were working on his sideline for the first time would get a tutorial on what to expect. It followed a pattern.
Occasionally, he went over the line, and was penalized. The difference is, he knew it better than the official, and cleaned up his act. Ed knew just how far he could go with a crew or with individuals, and he would go to the edge and no further.
McCarthy was part of a breed of coach one sees less and less these days – the teaching coach. Technique, form, proper mechanics were taught. That teaching gave his teams an edge. He was also a surrogate father to many, giving advice and a rebuke if needed. It taught his players to have respect: respect for the game, respect for teammates, respect for opponents, and respect for authority figures.
Ed McCarthy was in the words of Fairfield County Football Officials Association Commissioner Gerry Costello, “A legend.” That legend is now in eternity. May he rest in peace.