‘Keys to success’

It’s always amazed me how almost every local person I’ve ever described my brother-in-law to—even in the most bare and general terms—immediately knows who I’m talking about.

“He’s that big guy who rides around downtown and the campus on a blue Schwinn cruiser, wearing a red Chico State T-shirt and baseball cap and sunglasses.”

You’re probably saying what most people say, “Oh yeah, I’ve seen that guy everywhere. Isn’t he a coach for the men’s basketball team (or the men’s baseball team, or the Chico Heat)?”

“That guy” is 54-year old Tom Wigton, and I used to think the same thing. Before I ever met, and married, his sister Connie, I’d see Tom on the Chico State University campus in his “uniform” of Wildcat colors and assumed he was a P.E. teacher or a coach.

Wigton is not a coach, but he does work as a volunteer for the Chico State Athletics Department. He makes his way to the department nearly every day, stopping in every open office to share sports scores with colleagues and friends. His big-hearted enthusiasm, along with 15 years of committed work as equipment manager for the various men’s athletic teams, have endeared him to the coaches and players and made him one of the more recognizable and beloved assets to the university.

“Without exception, whenever our former players return to campus or call me on the phone to check in, they inquire about how Tommy is doing,” said Puck Smith, Chico’s men’s basketball coach since 1987. “Everybody who has ever known him realizes the important contribution and dedication that Tom brings to our program and feels kinship with him.”

Describing what Wigton does is important in defining his place in this community, but the real story—hinted at by the fact that he volunteers—is what’s really important. How he’s created his niche at Chico State is a lesson in not letting stereotypes define how you live your life.

There aren’t a whole lot of happy-ending stories to tell about people who suffer from mental disorders, and though symptoms can be life-altering, the disease often isn’t the worst of the suffering. Homeless shelters, hospitals and nursing homes or prison are often the only “homes” available, and those fortunate enough to live independently or with family members often lead sedentary lives with minimal stimulation and are prone to alcoholism, drug addiction, diabetes and suicide.

“I’m a handicapped person, but I’m not going to hide under a rock all my life,” Wigton said when asked about his disease.

His sun-baked complexion is the first giveaway that he is not hiding under rocks.

Wigton rides his bike everywhere, greeting acquaintances with his bellowing voice and a hearty slap on the back along the way.

This kind of proactive attitude isn’t the norm, and it isn’t automatic—it’s taken a lot of structure and support, mostly from the most influential person in his life, to bring him to this advanced state of contentment.

“She amazes me,” Wigton will often exclaim when the subject of his mother Diane is raised. “I have more respect for her than anyone I know.”

There’s a lot of confusion when symptoms begin to manifest themselves, and her financial and practical support, getting Tom proper diagnosis and the medication necessary to quell his symptoms, helped stabilize him and allowed him to go from “hanging around” the gym for basketball games to chipping in and eventually being offered the team manager job by Coach Smith.

“It’s been his salvation,” his mother said. “I can’t even express my gratitude.”

Luke Reid, assistant sports information director at Chico State, has worked closely with Wigton for the past four years. Before that he knew Wigton from the days when Chico State fielded a football team, and he described Wigton’s position there as just “one of the guys.”

“He’s found a niche, found a community he could be a part of. … I don’t think people know how hard Tommy works,” Reid said. “He was willing to serve the people he was around. People grew to love Tommy.”

Wigton himself is surprised at how far he’s gotten in the local sports scene.

“I’m amazed that I’ve even been in this business this long,” he said. “I didn’t think that I’d be in this business more than maybe a week.”

Since 1989 Wigton has been a team manager, first for just the men’s basketball team, then adding football (until the sport was dissolved in 1997) and baseball. His duties vary some from sport to sport, but basically he’s the guy who takes care of the equipment details, freeing coaches and players to concentrate on coaching and playing. For basketball and football it’s managing equipment on the court, in the dugout and in the equipment room for games and practices, and for football (for Chico High School these days), he’s the helmet guy.

His start in at least two of these areas has come from finding a subtle need and addressing it until he’s part of the program. When the Chico Heat baseball club was still in town, Wigton saw the workers picking up cups after the game.

“So he got a bag and he started picking up,” his mother said.

Eventually the team started letting him into games for free in trade for his help.

In addition to being there for the work, Wigton’s been on hand to join in on some of the celebrating as well. From his favorite basketball memory ("when we won our first conference title with Puck in ‘91") to the current run of national baseball success under Coach Lindsay Meggs, Wigton has participated in a few celebratory dog piles and even garnered a little personal recognition along the way. For baseball, he’s won awards for regional manager of the year, and he even received an all-American-manager designation for the 1999 championship season.

The trip to the college World Series in Alabama last spring marked the first one to which the team was able to bring Tom along. He didn’t know he was going until the day before the bus left for the airport, when Coach Meggs called and asked, “Do you have a suitcase?”

Approaching the bus the next morning, the team had already boarded. As soon as they saw “Tommy” coming, the whole team burst into applause.

“I had tears in my eyes. It was an amazing experience,” he gushed, recounting the trip’s every detail, from the size of the Atlanta airport to visiting Hank Williams’ grave.

“Lindsay is the most caring guy I have ever known, along with Puck—those are two of the most fantastic people I have ever known.”

I recently visited Wigton during football’s “hell week” at Chico High. The field was muggy as the morning dew evaporated, making the air thick and uncomfortable when just standing, let alone running around in pads and a helmet. A junior-varsity wide receiver jogged over to Wigton and his tackle box of gear with helmet in hand.

“Tommy, I need a little air,” the player said.

Wigton connected the hand pump to the helmet bladder and offered a little cautionary advice as he worked: “Be careful; if it gets too tight you’ll get a headache.”

The second two-hour “double days” session ended, and when I approached head football Coach Mike Cooper about the story I’m doing on Wigton, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Tommy?” Cooper asked. “He’s a legend. He was there [at Chico State] when I was playing.”

For his part, Wigton is philosophical.

“I love what I do, period,” he said. “It’s like a religion to me. Some people like truck driving, some people like school teaching; I love doing what I do. Win or lose, bad or good, I’m there.”

Over in the Chico State Athletic Department, a photocopied sheet of paper with the title “Wigton’s Keys to Success in the Playoffs” is thumb-tacked to several office bulletin boards. With 18 nuggets of coach-lingo such as “Play to your ability,” “Take care of business in the classroom” and “In order to play your best you need plenty of rest,” this list was passed around to the players on the 1999 men’s baseball team while they were struggling though the playoffs.

At the bottom of the list is a copyright: "May 11, 1999, Thomas C. Wigton"—one month before Chico State won its second national championship in three years.