Posted by Ted Hoyt on March 15, 2002:

I could write about the plenty of fun and carousing which I shared with Wayno, I could write about the knowing smiles we used to exchange while we beat on Freddie, I could write about the many times when Wayno came to my rescue while I was being beaten or swirlied by the cows, but these stories would do little to shed light on who Wayne really was for those of you who were not fortunate enough to know him. I will tell you a story instead, about my days as the coach of the A4 boxing team. I don't remember, today, whether our team was good or bad, it doesn't really matter. I just remember that I was the coach, and for some reason, I was interested in winning a particular match (It must have been against C-4 or some other rival clan). After reviewing the match-ups I figured it would be a close one. Our heavy-weight was out or injured, and I asked Wayne to step in. He was definitely not thrilled at the idea. Wayne was a big, tough guy. He played on the Army Football team and was the only guy in our company as yearlings that the cows had any real respect for / fear of during the sometimes brutal rumbles that were waged in the corridors of A4. As big and tough as he was, Wayne also knew (probably from plebe boxing) that his boxing skills were not the greatest. Wayne asked me to find someone else. We were firsties by then and I tried to find some big plebe or yearling to take a beating for the team, but came up empty. I asked Wayne again just before the match. He smiled and said OK. Even though I had assured Wayno that his opponent was a slob, this opponent ended up being an excellent boxer. (I'm pretty sure he ended up at least going to the brigade finals.) Wayno got clobbered. Later that night, I went to appologize to Wayne for setting him up, but he wouldn't hear it. As far as he was concerned, friendship was all that mattered. He gave me that smile and told me to forget it. Wayno knew that he wasn't a great boxer and he knew the chances were he would get a beating, but he also knew that I really wanted to win that match, and helping his friends was what Wayno was all about. He continues to inspire me. All the more so because he was a big, good looking, smart guy who had everything going for him; attributes that all too often lend themselves to arrogance or jerkiness. Wayno somehow remained humble. My memory in recent years has become terrible, but I still remember clearly that feeling of relief, gratitude and respect that I felt when I realized that Wayne would not hold any smidgen of ill feelings towards me. I know darn well that I would not have been so gracious. I consider myself lucky to have known Wayne. He has become an important part of who I am, and he will always be my friend.

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