What is the measure of someone's life work? When that person is a coach, you tend to rely on the metrics of the trade wins and losses. For former women's basketball head coach Chris Wielgus, the record shows unparalleled success in her 28 years at Dartmouth: 393 wins, more than Dartmouth legends such as former basketball coach Alvin "Doggie" Julian, former baseball coach Tony Lupien and former hockey coach Eddie Jeremiah; a .535 winning percentage; 12 Ivy League Championships, the latest coming in 2009; seven NCAA and two Women's National Invitation Tournament berths; numerous Ivy Rookies and Players of the Year and dozens of All-Ivy selections. She is a member of Wearers of the Green and the New England Basketball Hall of Fame. From the very beginning of the Title IX era, she built the program that exemplifies the excellence of the Ivy League basketball tradition that celebrates the student-athlete.
But two-dimensional statistics do not come close to conveying the depth and breadth of Chris' impact on Dartmouth the institution, on the women's basketball program and on the lives of the people she touched, from opposing players and coaches to fans, reporters and the local youth who attended her clinics. Everyone she touched came away richer for the experience. Her impact on those who came through the program is truly immeasurable. She taught us how to win with humility but also how to lose with grace; the importance of teamwork and leadership without ego; the rewards of hard work and discipline coupled with the joy of letting loose once in a while; the sanctity of family and friendships. These are life lessons that translate not only into success on the hardwood but also success in life. And indeed Chris' charges have gone on to become doctors, lawyers, mothers, educators, corporate tycoons, coaches and trustees of the college. Chris also understood the unique challenges facing Division I athletes in a demanding academic environment and fervently cared about us as people. While she pushed us to our personal limits, we also knew that she always had our backs and, in turn, we were expected to watch out for our teammates. In recent years, she created an Alumnae Council that promotes networking and provides mentorship across generations of current and former players. The women's basketball program is what connects many of us to Dartmouth, and Chris embodies the program. Each year, alumnae spanning five decades come back to Hanover to pay their respects to someone who is so much more than merely a coach and mentor.
Inexplicably, Chris was forced out seven weeks ago, a casualty of a mean-spirited and insular athletics department abetted by a distant, lame-duck administration. I cynically wonder if a male coach would have been treated similarly. While the four injury-riddled seasons following her most recent Ivy Championship have not been up to previous standards, the athletics department has shown a tolerance for mediocre to poor results from a number of male coaches that it did not afford Chris, despite her record of achievement. Julian posted a win-loss record below .250 in the eight years following his third and final Ivy Championship, but has nonetheless been accorded mythical status in Dartmouth athletics lore.
Even in these "what have you done for me lately" times, where so much is considered disposable and readily replaceable, this is a callous and shameful way to treat someone who has given so much to the College and legions of alumnae. I recently attended the celebration of the 40th anniversary of coeducation at Dartmouth. Walking into the Hanover Inn for registration, a classmate and I were asked by a male alumnus at what point coeducation will be such a part of the fabric of the College that it will no longer need to be celebrated. I think this incident highlights that we are still quite far from that point.
Since Dartmouth has chosen to say "thanks" for 28 years with a pink slip, I would like to say a public "thank you" to Chris on behalf of the women's basketball alumnae. You will be forever in our hearts.
