Memories of an American Patriot: Don Hasselbeck

Don Hasselbeck passed away this week. The former NFL tight end was our neighbor growing up and for the longest time was the largest person I had ever met.

It sticks to you as a kid when a gridiron gladiator removes his battle gear and doesn’t get any smaller. And when you queue up at the grill during a neighborhood block party, the 6’7” chef is doling out hot dogs with tongs that look like toothpicks in his hands.

That long, cool shadow cast itself calmly across Noon Hill Avenue in Norfolk but had a different ferocity on the nearby field in Foxborough. And he hustled for it.

I vividly recall one warm morning, Betsy Hasselbeck wheeling the portable Jugs football-flinging machine out of the garage, setting it up for her husband on the crest of their front lawn. A crate of about 15 footballs followed, positioned right next to it.

Don was in training. You don’t make or remain in the NFL without working hard. His three sons, Matthew, Timothy, and Nathanael were ready to help. So too were my brother R.J. and me. We were there every day. Always playing football. That day we had been willingly conscripted into forming an assembly line to help return the balls to the crate, to sustain a rapid pace of rifle shot passes. Don then announced that if he caught 1,000 straight he would take us all to Bubbling Brook, for soft serve ice cream.

This was huge! We were now co-conspirators in what might be the plot of the summer. But this was a lot for an elementary school-aged mind to comprehend: 1,000 straight?! Who’s counting?? WE must be a perfect team. WE can’t drop a ball, WE have to be efficient, WE are the glue.

THWUMP! The first ball shot out of the machine straight at Don’s chest, laces spinning faster than most professional quarterbacks could muster. His hands rose, index fingers and thumbs touching to form a large open diamond that collected the ball with ease away from his body, his eyes ahead of every movement but seemingly also following as he secured the ball and smoothly tucked it under his arm.

1 down. 999 to go.

He flipped the ball to the eager assembly line, and we were off.

THWUMP! THWUMP! THWUMP!

With each pass Betsy would change the arc, the placement, the position, and Don moved about the front yard like a giant gazelle catching every single ball with the determination and discipline of a professional athlete perfecting his craft. Concentration. Footwork. Explosion. Form. Soft hands.

So focused on the serious task, and keeping count, I don’t recall much commenting or cheering. That is until 990. Everything had gone smoothly, perhaps too much so, or perhaps ice cream was in the cards anyways, because it was then that Don decided to bobble the final 10. He was sweating. He must be tired. Why was he smirking? What was he doing??

The sky never seemed more expansive as he swatted the ball high into the air before cradling it. The grass never seemed so tall as he let the ball drop before snatching it just above the earth. We had all invested so much. We were howling! We cheered 1,000 like it was a fourth-quarter game-winning touchdown.

It is one indelible memory among many. Today a flashback; then a forecast into what would become the Hasselbeck family business.

Football & Faith

Don was, above all else, a family man.

This was reinforced several months ago, at dinner, when I wanted to ask how proud he was being inducted into the Colorado University Athletic Hall of Fame. It never came up. He was too eager to talk about coaching his grandsons in football; and to celebrate a newer legacy of athletic excellence his granddaughters were building in lacrosse.

This explains in part why, as his oldest son Matt shared the news of Don’s cardiac arrest and passing, the prayers, condolences, and recognition flowed for contributions greater than anything on the field. Of faith, fellowship, friendship.

Matt said:

He was a great husband, father, grandfather, friend, coach, player, coworker, artist, mentor, and storyteller. Despite being an All-American at Colorado and a Super Bowl Champion with the Raiders, what we are most proud of is the leader he was for our family. He helped set our feet on solid ground. Married to and in love with our mom, Betsy, for 50 years, they built their house on the rock of Jesus Christ. Our dad’s prayer journals, in his meticulous handwriting and in a rainbow of pen colors, hold each of our names and needs. Many of you who have known our father, have been thoughtfully prayed for in the pages of his journals.

New England Patriots Coach Mike Vrabel opened his Tuesday pre-draft press conference by recognizing Don’s influence.

A successful man is someone that raises genuine, caring, thoughtful children, and that’s something that Don certainly did. … [O]ur thoughts and prayers are with the Hasselbeck family.

Benjamin Watson, another Super Bowl winning tight end, added on X: 

I first met Don while playing with the Patriots. He and his wife Betsy lived in the area and continued to pour into young men and women like myself and my wife, who were beginning our NFL journey. Proverbs 20:7 says that ‘the godly walk with integrity, blessed are their children who follow them.’ Don’s godly legacy is evident in the children who call him dad. I have been blessed to know him and to witness how the world has been impacted for Christ through them. Please lift up the Hasselbeck family during this time as we mourn with them. Well done good and faithful servant.

One last football thing. To me Don will always be a Patriot. He spent six of his nine seasons with New England, though he also tallied touches with the Giants, Vikings, and Raiders.

With the Raiders, Don won a Super Bowl, notably doing the rarest of things: blocking an extra point. He did so by extending his long arms and giant hands high, swatting the ball into the sky, and then he celebrated. The play was a perfect mix of athletic explosion and angelic grace, followed by a visceral reaction to the deep joy of competition, emerging triumphant.

I later noticed that this described how his sons, with their respective collegiate and NFL careers, would each celebrate a big play.

Today one sees how they bring the same faith, joy, passion, and perspective to their ongoing work.

Like father, like sons. Is there a better legacy?

Condolences to the Hasselbeck family.

RIP, Don.

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