Louisiana UnLimited: Justin Robichaux
It was only an offhand remark, an overheard comment that wasn't even aimed at him.
But what he heard gave Justin Robichaux a quick reality check. Some clarity. Maybe even some peace in the knowledge that he was doing the right thing.
It came from Louisiana's softball dugout, not long after Robichaux had been hired by Ragin' Cajun head coach Gerry Glasco as his pitching coach – a hiring that surprised many in the softball world. It also came not long after the subject of how his new pitching staff and the Cajun players were going to refer to him.
"I told them Coach Justin, Coach Robichaux, whatever they were comfortable with," Justin remembered saying.
But on this day, when he walked past, he overheard the always-excitable sophomore Cajun catcher Sophie Piskos talking with another player, and heard the two words "Coach Robe" in the conversation.
"I just stopped for a few seconds," he said. "When I thought about it, it really hit me that I now know where I'm supposed to be and I kind of know why I'm here."
For the uninitiated, "Coach Robe" was what Tony Robichaux was universally called from the time he was 24 years old and the nation's youngest Division I head coach at McNeese, all the way through his legendary coaching career at Louisiana and up until his tragic and too-soon death from a heart attack in July of 2019.
All who played for, worked with or had any connection with "Coach Robe" over his quarter-century with the Cajun program know that he was a much greater man than he was a coach, his 1,173 collegiate baseball victories notwithstanding. That group includes Glasco, who admittedly treasures the two years that the two shared time as Cajun coaches in their sports.
"When I hear Justin speaking, it's like hearing his dad talk," Glasco said. "When you think that a little further, you realize this guy would be a natural coach, he'd be a really good coach. I heard him talking about Acadiana and what it means to be a Cajun and how much he values the Cajun uniform, the Cajun brand, and how important the program here is and how important athletics are to him as a person."
That's why Glasco reached out to Robichaux last summer when he was in the market for a pitching coach. He thought he'd filled that spot with his former student Chelsea Wilkinson, a standout for Georgia when Glasco was the Bulldogs' pitching coach in 2014. But Wilkinson got an offer from her alma mater and made the decision to head home.
"When she made that decision, I thought about it for another two or three weeks," Glasco said. "I wanted to see who all the applicants were, and I had an enormous amount of interest and good applicants. But when I weighed it all out, at the end, I knew Justin would come here and give everything he had and he'd stay around. That's what I was looking for … I wanted a coach to be here for the next few years and not have our pitchers go through a revolving door of coaches."
The catch? Robichaux, like his father and his younger brother Austin, both of whom had huge impacts on the UL program while playing for their father, he was a baseball guy. With his background as a college player and having soaked up knowledge all his life from a dad who was renowned nationally as a pitching guru, it was obvious that he knew baseball far better than most.
But he'd never truly coached at a high level before, and was in a job that was away from his love of athletics. And that coaching introduction was going to be in softball, which has obvious similarities to baseball but also obvious differences.
"I want to speak to the Beaver Club the other day," Robichaux said, "and when one of them asked me what I knew about softball, I joked with them and said I know nothing. I told them I put a mirror in our bullpen and angled it so that when one of our pitchers throws, I could flip it over like a baseball pitcher and it looks like overhand when she's actually throwing underhand."
He was obviously rattling some cages with humor at that meeting, but at the same time he was making a point. A "Robeism," if you will, something that his late father did masterfully all through his life.
"The reality is when it comes to pitching, it's an art and it's a science," he said. "You're teaching somebody how to make adjustments, how to overcome themselves in the circle, how to not let the game define them. That circle can be the loneliest place in the world, just like the mound is. You're teaching them how not to be defined by that, or by labels that people are going to place on them.
"You come in our bullpen and you'll see the plate with colors on it (a coaching tool that his father famously used to define targets for his pitchers). The philosophy hasn't changed. There's an art to getting somebody out, to be able to read swings, to understand what the hitter can hit and what they can't hit. We pitch on intent and purpose here, and that hasn't changed."
Building in that philosophy didn't come without some rough patches. Glasco had several conversations with pitchers and fielded more than a handful of phone calls from parents asking about the soundness of his decision.
"They were apprehensive obviously," Glasco said. "I told them to trust me. I understand the importance of the position and I asked the to trust that I was going to do what was in the best interests of them and their daughter. I told them to trust me and it would work out.
"Since then, it's been unanimous. Everyone's happy with what's happened in the last six months. And he amazes me with how organized he is and with his insight into pitching mechanics."
"The girls know that my communication language is different because of my background," Robichaux said. "But we've developed from top to bottom since last year. I was fortunate in that the mechanical process of the underhand throw is very similar to the mechanical process of the overhand throw. There are obviously two completely different outcomes, but you still start with your shoulders and hips square and your shoulders rotate around your hips just like in baseball. I don't think they'd ever heard it referred to like that before, and the only reason I knew that was because of my background."
That first phone call from Glasco – it was he that first reached out – was enough to convince Robichaux to make the move. Justin's wife Leigh Ann had apprehensions.
"I had to convince his wife more than I had to convince him," Glasco said. "She'd seen the time commitment that Coach Robe had put into baseball as a head coach, but I was able to convince her that I'm going to make sure he spends time with the girls (daughters Evelyn and Roslyn) and I want him to go home. A lot of nights when I leave, I'll tell him go home and play with those kids … and he's mature enough to understand the importance of that. He grew up in that and he knows how challenging it is to be a parent and a coach."
There's no question about that. Justin well remembers how many of his youth and high school games – including one memorable state championship game – that his father missed because he was coaching his Cajun team. And he knows that can happen all over again in the not-too-distant future.
"When I set something I want to accomplish, I move and gravitate toward that pretty quickly," Robichaux said. "My wife is my voice of reason. She had some of the same questions that a lot of other people had, but she's the rock of our family and I wanted to make 100 percent sure we were on the same page and we were together on this, because I've seen how it has to work. My dad accomplished a lot, but he accomplished a lot without ever sacrificing family. That's the same way I want to do it."
A couple of meetings and dinners with Glasco and his wife Vickie ("how amazing a person she is," Justin said) helped convince Leigh Ann. That shouldn't be a surprise, since both families have gone through devastating losses. Five months before Tony Robichaux's untimely passing, Geri Ann Glasco was killed in a multi-vehicle accident on Interstate 10 when she was headed back to her parents' Arnaudville home. The youngest of their daughters was only two weeks away from opening day of her first season as a Cajun assistant coach for her father.
"When you go through tragedy and that kind of grief, the pain that you go through is so great," Robichaux said. "You try to put yourself in those people's shoes in losing a daughter. I feel for him on a lot of levels. To share that with somebody is pretty powerful. That's not something you can fake or make up. It's real. To go to work every day with a man (Glasco) that's so authentic, my dad was like that, and it helps that we have that shared bond."
That bond didn't take long to extend to his Cajun pitchers and to the entire team. That was hammered home last Sept. 10, on what would have been his father's 61st birthday, when assistant coach Lacy Prejean summoned Justin to the alumni tent just past Louisiana's M. L. "Tigue" Moore Field baseball facility.
Robichaux turned the corner at the park headed toward the tent, and was greeted with the sight of all members of the softball team standing around the eight-foot statue of his father, one that sits in front of the "Tigue" and shows the elder Robichaux talking to his former players. All had balloons with a "Robeism" written on them, which were released in unison to honor his legacy … and to honor their program's newest member.
Emotions ran high that day, just like they will Friday when Louisiana opens its 2022 softball season in its own Louisiana Classics tournament at Yvette Girouard Field at Lamson Park. That gesture cemented that, like his father, Justin Robichaux's future was one of service to others – specifically, his new team.
"In overcoming the grieving process, that allows you to stop and think and reflect," he said. "Not long before Gerry called me, I said to my brother that I didn't know at the time what I was running from, being that I got the unique privilege and vantage point to see somebody build something the right way.
"People later in their lives realize what their special place is, and I knew that special place for me was working with athletes on the coaching side. Deep down, I knew that's the direction I needed to go. Did I know it was going to be here? No, I didn't. But somebody's pulling some strings up there, and I realized I was running from something that was right in front of me my whole life."
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Louisiana UnLimited--Justin Robichaux
Originally Posted by RedBug58
