James Left A Shocking Impact On Washington Huskies That No One Can Take Away

While waiting for the 1992 Rose Bowl, the Washington football team visited Medieval Times. In a temporary castle in Buena Park, California, a hundred Huskies were drowned in the 11th century, complete with sword fights, jousts, a royal court, and a Cornish game hen for each guest. But no utensils could be found. The players, perplexed about how to consume the roasted bird, requested spoons and knives. “No! “Just pick it up,” then-58-year-old Carol James instructed, before immediately demonstrating. “She picked that Cornish hen up and got to bitin’, and it just opened the floodgates,” said former UW cornerback Walter Bailey on Monday night. “If Mama James does it, I will do it. I grabbed it and simply followed what she did

For 18 years, countless UW football players followed a woman affectionately known as the “Dawgmother” – a calming presence alongside her husband, legendary coach Don James. From 1975 to 1992, Washington went 153-57-2, winning four Rose Bowls and one national championship. Carol James, 92, died on Sunday morning as a result of lung cancer. Don James was the coach, the face, voice, and spirit of a UW dynasty. But, in Medieval Times terms, Carol was the queen. “The biggest thing I could say about the Dawg Mama, Mama James, is that she sincerely was the matriarch of the whole operation,” Bailey said me. “It was sort of an unwritten law, guy. She was the ambassador. She served as both our liaison and mother figure.

Former University of Washington linebacker Chico Fraley added, “She was the heart of the James family.” That heart had room for so many. Carol hosted enormous Sunday brunches for visiting recruits, typically hosting 60-80 people at their Bellevue home or on a boat on Lake Washington. She put together a generous buffet of ham, eggs, doughnuts, orange juice, coffee, tea, and hash browns for future Huskies and their families. Carol James made a connection amidst the food and football frenzy. “Coach James was coach James.” “But that felt like her event,” said Fraley, a Husky standout from 1988 to 1991. “She was the driver.” She was the one that escorted you in, made sure you had your plate, and moved you around. It didn’t feel like we had 40 or 50.People are on the boat. “I felt like I was getting one-on-one attention from her.”That was how you felt every time you saw her. When she looked at you or smiled, she was looking at you. She was speaking directly to you. “I felt seen and cared for by her.” He was not the only one. Consider fellow linebacker Dave Hoffmann, who claimed Carol “reminded me of my grandma on my mom’s side, the way she talked, her mannerisms, and her attitude.” Hoffmann, who led the Huskies in tackles in 1990, 1991, and 1992, deferred to “the Dawgmother.” “When I was a freshman, some of us had those horrible Boz (Brian Bosworth) haircuts with a rat tail out the back,” Hoffmann remarked, laughing. “Shewalked up to me, hugged me, and suggested I cut my hair.I kept it for a few more months before cutting it in accordance with her and my mother’s wishes. Take Mike Rohrbach, who helped Don James win his first Rose Bowl at UW in 1978 before returning to the team in a different role. “My last game was the Rose Bowl in 1978. But then, in 1989, coach James asked me to be the chaplain,” Rohrbach remembered on Monday. “I remember getting a note the next week from Carol that said, ‘We’re so thrilled you’re going to be with us in this role with the team, to encourage and support coaches and athletes.'” 35 years later, Rohrbach never let goLet go of that letter. Carol functioned as a calming force, despite Don James’s disciplinarian tendencies. Fraley remarked, “When she came around, Coach James was nicer.” Rohrbach continued, “Carol softened the edges a little bit.” Their relationship created equilibrium, a mutually beneficial yin and yang. Until it came time to get on the bus. “Our bus was pulling out of the crew house at 8 a.m. to go on a road trip,” Rohrbach told me. “I was on the first bus, just behind Coach and Carol. Suddenly, Coach James turns to the bus driver and says, “Close the door.” We are leaving. Carol turns to him and says, “Don, approximately 12 of your key players are still in the parking.”And we pulled out and drove away.” She gave him that look, but didn’t try to change his mind. His adage was, ‘If you arrive early, you’re on time. If you are on time, you are late. “If you’re late, you’re gone.” (The delayed parties arrived at Sea-Tac Airport in time to join the team plane.) Even after Don James died in 2013, Carol never abandoned her Husky family. Carol continuously checked on Hoffmann after his wife died tragically in 2018. She would frequently comment on Fraley’s Facebook posts, telling him how proud she was of Chico and his children. In 2022, a 90-year-old Carol phoned Bailey to express her love.”She also said that Coach James would be very proud of me,” Bailey said. “When she said that, man, the floodgates opened.” Carol left so many memories at Montlake. Bailey can still taste the chocolate chip cookies she had after the game. Rohrbach’s scrambled eggs, complete with a dab of cream cheese, were inspired by “The Dawgmother.” Like a daily illustration of a loving relationship. “They were great friends and teammates,” Hoffmann explained. “They understood the true significance of that. It was about being unconditional and always available for someone to lean on. Nobody could take away the fact that Coach always had her.Even now, they can’t shake the memories and the impact she had on hundreds of Huskies who never called her Carol. “I will always remember her care and the sincerity in her heart,” Hoffmann told me. “She was a friend.” We all addressed her as ‘The Dawgmother.’ She earned it long before I got there.” So, raise a roasted hen to “The Dawgmother.” Just do not ask for a fork.