If desire and sound coaching are the heart of an athlete’s success at Binghamton University, Bryan McGovern is the pulmonary artery.
Some of us have had experiences with ‘athletic trainers,’ and have justly decided that term is a euphemism for ‘drill sergeant.’ Binghamton recruits may have been expecting a protein-brewing, vein-popping, egg-guzzling tyrant to be waiting for them in a ‘Binghamton Staff’ shirt when they arrived on campus.
Instead, we were greeted by Bryan McGovern.
‘Bryan has a good balance between being able to motivate you, and also putting you at ease,’ said Sinead O’Reilly, a junior on Binghamton women’s basketball squad. ‘He is not the type of person that has to say a lot to get his point across or to get you to work hard.’
McGovern has been Binghamton’s head strength and conditioning coach since 2001. He graduated from Springfield College in 1996. For five years before settling in with the Bearcats, McGovern spent time at Boston College, Ball State University and the University of Richmond.
Many student-athletes feel fortunate Bryan found his way to Binghamton.
‘Bryan is always walking around the weight room, helping the athletes improve their lifting techniques,’ said Mike Sciarrino, a senior on the men’s lacrosse team. ‘His workouts are creative, especially considering the amount of space he has and the number of athletes he needs to facilitate. He gets guys to work hard without really getting in their face about it.’
Bryan spends his day, from about 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., leading BU’s teams through lifting, running and agility sessions. He also coordinates with athletic trainers on injuries to athletes, and reads articles to keep up-to-date on exercises or nutritional information that might add to his program.
‘The most rewarding part of this job is getting to be a part of the teams I work with,’ McGovern said. ‘I know how much work each athlete puts into to try and be successful on the field.’
Some trainers yell and spit and scream themselves hoarse trying to squeeze every drop of effort out of their pupils. After three years, I still haven’t heard Bryan raise his voice. He has never crowded me with cries of ‘move it!’ Yet he has been in full possession of my attention and willfully received my best effort ‘ or something like it ‘ in every workout.
Bryan is modest in size and unassuming in demeanor. He doesn’t make it a priority to outflex his peers. Most trainers will at least ‘very discreetly’ load up the bench press station after the workout with everyone still around and pound out a few reps to show everyone what kind of heat they’re packing. Bryan doesn’t bother with this either.
I believe Bryan doesn’t bother with any of this for two reasons. First, he doesn’t want to. The kind of respect Bryan hopes to gain has more to do with the performance of his athletes than the celebration of his own physical prowess. I’ve witnessed Bryan in the crowd at several Binghamton sporting events and can tell you the man glows when he sees a feat of athleticism performed by a player he’s worked with. His motivation is strictly to make us better.
Secondly, he doesn’t need to try and impress. Bryan maintains the mysterious power of a character who refuses to stay in his ordained role. Most trainers are burly. Bryan is lean. Most trainers swagger. Bryan moves with humility. But Bryan still commands a room full of strutting jocks with remarkable ease. He is knowledgeable, likable and patient. It’s a damn good combination. His players trust him. When Bryan asks us to lift and hold an uncomfortable position, no one asks why or wonders whether they’ll be able to walk the next day.
Bryan makes an effort to get to know everyone. I have often marveled at his ability to memorize an absurd number of first names. He takes no offense to an athlete’s request to make minor alterations to his program. This is a refreshing departure from the typical ‘my way or the highway’ attitude I have encountered with other trainers. Every year, Bryan has made some sort of change to the lifting program. His program, itself, embodies the relentless pursuit of perfection an athlete is supposed to adopt. Bryan attends games and is a supporter of the athletes he is involved with. He’ll congratulate you on a good performance.
For McGovern, the career choice seems to have been the right one.
‘After my internship at Boston College, I was hooked. There was nothing else I wanted to do,’ he said.
The net effect is that Bryan has created a strong positive energy in the weight room, where no one feels intimidated or unsafe. He performs his job with integrity despite the absence of glamorous celebration. After all, he isn’t the one who cuts down the mesh or dogpiles on the field, or leaps into the crowd after a goal. But behind every leap, swing and thrust for many athletes is Bryan McGovern ‘ the quiet governor of the weight room. He is the facilitator of green-and-white feats of strength. He is a reminder that championships don’t just happen and banners don’t just fall from the rafters. In any successful college program there are people working behind the scenes, people who have channeled their life’s work into giving a campus something to celebrate.
But I still think I can probably outbench him, and I also think he probably doesn’t care.