Stories about my favorite Auburn player: Pink's Perspective

Pat Dye was standing in his tower overlooking Auburn football practice when a freshman walk-on running back yelled to him from below.

“Coach, I need to talk to you. Are you coming down here, or am I coming up there?”

One former Auburn player who witnessed the exchange told me he never forgot it. He’d never seen anyone approach or talk to Coach Dye in that manner. It was not mean-spirited or classless–it was more closely linked to determination. Dye recognized it, too. He climbed down from his tower to talk to his disgruntled running back.

The player waiting below was not a star. He was not on scholarship. He had not even been on the team for more than a month or two. The player was not even sure he was going to be allowed to stay on the team at that point.

The player was my dad, Tom Pinkston. And if you’ve heard stories about “Pinky,” as he was affectionately called by his teammates, over the last two weeks or knew him personally, that moment shouldn’t surprise you at all.

Earning Pat Dye’s respect

Before ever dressing out for a game at Auburn, my dad spent time taking summer classes at Auburn University of Montgomery (AUM). While he was going through fall camp, closing in on the season opener, he was called out by a staffer and told he was ineligible due to his transfer. By the old rules, he would have to sit out a year.

My dad had already been through summer workouts and conditioning, fall camp, and everything else that takes place during the offseason when he learned of his supposed ineligibility. The timing was brutal, and he was not happy, nor was he willing to accept it.

In those days, Pat Dye often watched practice from a tower overlooking the field. My dad, still dressed out from practice, walked up to Dye’s tower and yelled up at him, “Coach, I need to talk to you. Are you coming down here, or am I coming up there?”

The two would talk, but did not come up with a solution on the spot. A meeting was arranged to discuss Pinky’s eligibility.

Dye later told my grandfather — Pinky’s dad — that he considered consoling Dad in that moment by putting a hand on his shoulder, but sensed Dad’s frustration and decided against it, not wanting to risk making him even more upset.

After a meeting with the person in charge of eligibility, it was worked out. He was never un-enrolled from Auburn during the summer, nor did AUM have a football program. Dad would be ruled eligible by Auburn and would be on the team as a walk-on running back, practicing as a scout-team running back and dressing out a few times for his freshman season in 1982.

Coaching career launched by Dye

After two football seasons, Dad was advised by family and others to hang up the cleats. At 5-foot-6 and 160 pounds (maybe), his body had taken a beating. While he fought it, he eventually conceded and decided to end his Auburn career at that point. The plan was to move back home and attend AUM to finish his degree. While doing that, he planned to help his dad on the family farm.

But somewhere between the day he marched up to Pat Dye’s practice tower and the day he walked into Dye’s office to tell him he was done playing, Dad had earned something far more valuable than carries or playing time: Pat Dye’s respect.

Pinky met with Dye, explained his situation and laid out his plan. Then he attempted to walk out the door.

Dye would not let him.

The same stubbornness that led Dad to challenge Dye at his practice tower two years earlier had earned the Hall of Fame coach’s respect. Dye witnessed that grit and determination every single day as Pinky took a beating, then popped back up every time for the next play. So when Dad told Dye he was leaving Auburn, Dye had other ideas.

On a phone call with my grandfather later that night, Dye made it clear that Pinky “earned” the right to graduate from Auburn. However, Dye did not have a football scholarship to give. He was able to give a scholarship as a “manager.” On the same phone conversation, Dye learned that Pinky was looking to be a coach after college. Dye then put Dad on scholarship, but placed him with running backs coach Bud Casey to learn how to coach running backs.

My dad would serve in that role for two more seasons until he graduated from Auburn. He went from ineligible, to walk-on running back, to student manager/running backs assistant, to graduate of Auburn University.

Dad would go on to have a long coaching career in the state of Alabama, first serving as an assistant to former Auburn center Spence McCracken at Robert E. Lee (Ala.). He would earn two Championships there. He was an assistant and offensive coordinator at Opelika (Ala.), Prattville (Ala.), Carver (Ala.), Jeff Davis (Ala.), Greenville (Ala.), and head coach at Highland Home (Ala.) during his career.

Auburn man

There were countless other stories told by former Auburn players who were close with my dad–a few of which spoke at the funeral. Some of those stories included Dad being dragged away by his shoulder pads after he had run straight at the first-team defense all day–one of the best defenses in Auburn history. Then, when he was trying to catch his breath, coaches would yell, “Where’s Pinky? We have to have Pinky!”

In the past two weeks, everyone I spoke with — especially those who played alongside Dad — seemed to agree on one thing: “A part of Auburn died with Tom Pinkston.” Yes, that is true. But his legacy lives on through his family, the players he coached, and the countless lives he impacted. As I tell my young son: “Don’t worry, I won’t allow you to forget about him.”

It was his dream to play for Auburn and he accomplished it, earning a Sugar Bowl ring and a National Championship ring as a player in the process. He also launched his coaching career there, learning from Auburn staffers who helped shape the coach he would later become. He continued to love Auburn until his last days on this earth–nothing ever changed. My dad lived 61 great years of life and hardly ever felt pain, even during a three-year cancer battle. He’d joke and say, “You should have seen how it was at Auburn, son.” He used the grit and determination he learned from Auburn throughout his cancer battle–the same attitude that caught Dye’s attention.

I’ve covered countless Auburn players and will continue to do so for years to come. None will ever mean more to me than my favorite Auburn player of all time: my dad, Tom Pinkston.