While the country continues to find itself mired in a highly divisive and polarizing war, the United States Military Academy was able to boast of harboring one of the country's most unifying figures. While former U.S. generals vehemently disagree over Donald Rumsfeld's ability to work well with others, the United States Military Academy was home to one of the most sympathetic professionals in the country. And she didn't even wear a uniform.
Coach Maggie Dixon inherited a very mediocre Army women's basketball program. Much of its mediocrity stemmed from the Military Academy's stringent requirements of all its students, including its athletes.
In an environment the average Madison student would tremble at, ruthless discipline and relentless performance tests define daily life at West Point. Along with a nine-year commitment, few students, let alone a high-caliber athlete, are prepared to face the daunting challenge that is USMA.
However, Dixon offered her athletes a welcome alternative to the rigors and demands of military life. As a civilian, she provided her players a cathartic release from an environment defined by rules and order. Catapulted by this newfound freedom, Dixon's players flourished.
"She was a lot like us," Adrienne Payne, a senior guard, told the Associated Press. "She was young and active, full of life. She was easy to identify with. She made every day that you had with her better."
Because of her youth, Dixon, 28, was seen by her players as more of a friend than a superior, more as a mentor than a disciplinarian. While this coaching strategy often backfires, allowing players to take advantage of an unsuspecting coach, Dixon produced a winner.
I will never forget the first time I saw Maggie Dixon, on the shoulders of lumbering male cadets. Clinching Army's first NCAA tournament appearance, Dixon traveled effortlessly through a sea of grey uniforms. Turning around a season that started with five wins and seven losses, Dixon's team finished the season 20-11. The last time Army's basketball program experienced similar success was 30 years ago, when a taskmaster named General Bobby Knight manned the sidelines. You could not have scripted it any better.
Though Army was defeated handily by powerhouse Tennessee in the first round, few were dismayed. Dixon would be back, with one more year of head-coaching experience than she had previously had in her entire life.
Rejected by the WNBA after being a four-year letter-winner at San Diego, Dixon refused to leave the game that had given her so much. Hoping to coach, Dixon walked unannounced into DePaul Coach Doug Bruno's office and asked for a staff position. No experience, no worries — she thought. Within three years, Dixon would move from director of basketball operations to assistant coach to recruiting coordinator. Just like that.
Without a single year of head-coaching experience, Dixon traveled to West Point for its head coaching vacancy and thought the same thing again: no experience, no worries. Dixon wowed Army officials with her charisma and basketball intelligence, enough to make them forget about her youth and inexperience.
According to the AP, West Point Superintendent Lt. Gen. William Lennox Jr. said, "From the time Maggie arrived here, her enthusiastic 'no limits' approach earned her the respect and love of everyone."
Tragically, Dixon's climb ended prematurely last week. With a stinging punch of irony, Dixon succumbed to an arrhythmic episode, in part because of an enlarged heart. She was buried at West Point Cemetery, her players forming two straight lines leading up to the chapel; an extraordinary honor for an individual never to have donned a military uniform.
Coach Dixon personified perseverance, passion and dedication. Though her tenure was short, the invaluable impact she made as a female in a male-dominated world sent tremors throughout West Point — enough to make hundreds of male cadets call her one of their own.
Josh Moskowitz ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in political science and journalism.
