Wayne Lineberry
Throwback Pirate
Finally Coming Home
Wayne Lineberry, a Buc with a story to tell, looks to
parlay his financial skills into a future for his Pirates
By
Ron Cherubini
©2005 Bonesville.net

Pirates defensive stalwart Lineberry in his
senior
year (1968) press shot (Submitted) |
Giving back has always been part of Wayne
Lineberry’s long-term plans. As a star linebacker for legendary coach
Clarence Stasavich, Lineberry only knew of one way to be a Pirate. That
way was full on, 100 percent. He did it as a player; he’s been doing it
as a fan and Pirate Club supporter. But now, as when he was a player,
he is bringing the sum of his skills – on point – to focus on helping
his beloved Pirates in a way that will ensure that his alma mater has
the tools to keep fighting… climbing… and working its way to the college
football promised land.
Lineberry’s plan has always been to find his way
back to Greenville… back to where he has always felt at home. Only, he
wanted to come back and make an impact on the program. His years as an
executive in the insurance business – first with New York Life and
currently with Virginia Asset Management – have taught him a great deal
about financing futures. And if there is one future in particular he would like to
insure and ensure, it would be that of the program.
“I’ve been trying to get back to Greenville for a
long time now,” Lineberry said from his home in Troutville, VA. “I have
been in the insurance investment business since 1973… most was as a
General Manager of New York Life… living all over the country. One of the
things about getting back to Greenville, in 1983, I moved from
Williamsburg, VA, to Tucson, AZ, with New York Life and I was the GM out
there. The University of Arizona had what was called the President’s
Club. It was an insurance endowment program which basically worked like,
if you bought a $100,000 policy with a $10,000 cash value in 10 years,
it would be like the equivalent of, say, a Purple Pirate (level in the
Pirates Club). I actually hired some football players out there to work
that market. And it is the same now with Virginia Asset Management and
Pirates Club members who are getting involved.
“Dennis Young and I were teammates – we came in as
freshman together – and I’ve talked to Dennis for years and years (about
starting a similar endowment mechanism) and they
finally approved it with the Pirates Club Board of Directors. The reason
I am doing it and trying to get to Greenville and open up an office — it
kind of ties the whole thing in — is that the University of North Carolina
started doing that in the 1960s and they have a $118 million endowment
and we have a $7 million endowment. Small contributions annually today
will leave huge benefits tomorrow. With us not getting in the BCS and
having access to BCS or ACC money, you know, if I can put a couple of
hundred
million dollars in the bank with other agents, it encapsulates what I
can do for my school. For the survivability of the athletics… that is
where I am coming from on that. Hey, none of us are getting out of here
alive and you can’t take too many of your toys with you. We are all kind
of remembered by what you give back. Right now, I am just going to set
up a sales office. As I go off into the sunset… I’ve been fighting for
the university for 40 years and this is my last big fight.”
It should be no surprise that Lineberry is looking
to contribute big-time to the program. It is the only way the former
standout from Wadesboro knows how to play. He is a throwback player
and he doesn’t hesitate to give a little nod the way of his former high
school coach in appreciation for helping mold a Pirates star of the
1960s and, even more so, for contributing to the man he became after
football... though, Lineberry admits, it was never a dull moment
growing in Wadesboro and playing for the cantankerous former Pirates
skipper.
“Growing up in Wadesboro… hmmm,” Lineberry pondered.
“I’ve always been involved in athletics but the big turning point for me
was in 1963. You know, Wadesboro played in probably the toughest 3-A
conference in the state with Rockingham, Hamlet, Sanford and those
schools. We were just a little old tiny school (playing those teams). In
1963, we were
Ed Emory’s first head coaching job and I can unequivocally
say that the season of ‘63 and ‘64 – my junior and senior years – were
unbelievable. I mean, the hardest I ever got hit in high school football
was at half time…and I am dead serious about that.
“Of course, we were like third in the state, we had
a real good team and a couple of us went on to play college, but I mean
Ed is… he’d kick the door in at half time and pick on the stars. He’d
slam me through the locker and just beat the fool out of us. I can tell
you, you know, you ever see The Junction Boys? I watch that
and I just cringe because that kind of reminds me of the way it was (at
Wadesboro High).”
Though it may sound a little rough, for Lineberry
and his ilk, that was the only type of football there was and Emory
exemplified it in every inch of his being. As a player – one that would
garner Prep All-America status under Emory – the fiery coach was just
the igniter he needed.
“Well… here’s one story on Ed,” Lineberry shared.
“Here is an example… the thing I used to hate to hear him say was, 'Turn
the lights on,' or, ‘One more play.’ We’d be scrimmaging but all we did
was hit. We were mean as hell, too, but all we did was hit, hit, hit.
Thursday night before a Friday game he’d cut the lights on and we’d stay
out there for hours and hours scrimmaging. But we had a real good team… a
hard-nosed team, and Battle Wall – both Battle and I were all-state from
little old Wadesboro – Battle went on and signed with Carolina and did a
tremendous job there. But we were playing one of those Rockingham teams
and Battle got this guy in what we called a Twirly Bird… well, it
was 1964, anyway… and you’d catch the running back and instead of
throwing him down, you just start to twirl him around like a top waiting
for the other guys to get to him. So, since he is coming around… you came
in with helmets those days. You know, you can put out a lot people like
that.
“Anyway, Battle got this guy in a Twirly Bird
and the guy slipped out of his grasp and ran for like 40 yards and a
touchdown. Well, Ed Emory goes berserk. The big man goes berserk and
you gotta understand he’s about 275 pounds of testosterone in those
days. So he calls a timeout and I was the middle linebacker because we
ran a 6-1 defense like we did at East Carolina. Anyway, you know Ed has
a speech impediment and so he says to me, ‘Lineberry… Lineberry… come
here.’ So I go over to the sideline and he just jacks me up and knocks
the hell out of me right there on the sideline and he’s beating me up
and my mother is in the stands yelling, ‘Hit him harder.’ That was a
tough crew we had out there. So he threw me back out there on the field
and he said, ‘Semiwall…,’ which is s-e-m-i-w-a-l-l, which was actually,
“Send me Wall.” Now, I’m not making fun of Ed, I can just mock him real
good. I go back out there and I am facing the huddle and I say, ‘Battle,
the big man wants to see you.’ And Battle looks out of the huddle and Ed
says, ‘Wall, Wall… come here, Wall.’ Battle says, ‘Naw, hell no, I’m not
going over there.’ And Battle stayed on the field… I mean, punts,
kickoffs, we’d have 12, 13 men on the field, it was chaotic. Battle
didn’t leave the field because Ed couldn’t run on the field. After the
game, Battle runs straight up to the field house, drops his helmet,
grabs his clothes and he’s got his uniform on. He had a Ford Fairlane
convertible and he ran over to his car, didn’t open the door, jumps and
lands in the seat. He cranks up the car and takes off. Now that is the
way we did things under Ed Emory.”
Bigger, Stronger, Faster
There was never denying that Lineberry was an
athlete. He was always pretty much bigger and stronger than than the
rest of the pack,
so football was a natural fit. In a town where kids dreamed of the day
they would lace them up for Wadesboro High, Lineberry was one of those
kids the coaches took notice of early.
“I was pretty much always bigger than (my peers),”
Lineberry said. “I was probably, like, I was listed at about 200 pounds.
My junior and senior year, I wrestled and went to the state both years
and I went at like 185 my junior year and heavyweight – 197 – my senior
year.

Lineberry shows off his
wrestling prowess for the Pirates
during a
heavyweight match in 1967. (Submitted)
“At Wadesboro, if you were on the football team
back in those days, you either ran track or wrestled or you didn’t play
football. I’ve always been in athletics. I played Gene Smith Wade
Rookies (youth football) when I was six years old and I don’t think we lost three games
from the time I was 6 to 13, so, I’ve always been involved in
athletics.”
Still, for all his natural abilities – and there
were plenty – Lineberry shudders to think what would have happened had
Emory not found his way to Wadesboro.
“If Ed hadn’t of come to Wadesboro, I’d probably
have wound up working in the mills like my parents did,” he said. “Ed
came in and gave me the boost I needed. And it was Ed Emory and the
coaches and Leo Jenkins that got me into East Carolina. He (Emory) was like a
breath of fresh air coming to a small town. He was something we’d never
seen before. Everything he did was first class. You know, he did
everything right by his football team. He was a second father to all of
us.”
Under Emory’s mentorship, Lineberry parlayed his
talents into post-season honors (1st-team all-state and 3rd-team prep All-America)
and a host of scholarship offers, but there had a
been a tug from East Carolina all along the way.
“I thought I’d get a scholarship somewhere,” he
said. “I had scholarships anywhere I wanted to go. Honestly, Battle and I
were both highly recruited. When I played in the all-star game in the
summer before I reported in 1965, they had me listed (as committed) at an
ACC school. I was offered a full scholarship to Clemson by my third game
my senior year. But Ed had brought the whole team to East Carolina for
football camp and it was more exposure (to East Carolina). So, I loved
East Carolina and I loved the school. In those days, it was like N.C.
State, Carolina, and Clemson where you wanted to go… and East Carolina.
“I had the high school grades and the courses, but
I horsed around my senior year and the entrance requirements were giving
me a hard time. Right before the East-West game in Greensboro, I was
listed as going to N.C. State, because I signed with them, but I didn’t
want to go there. There were no girls up there. My dad talked me into
(signing with State) instead of North Carolina because he wanted to keep
me out of trouble. The coaches at East Carolina called and said that
with the entrance requirements, that they could get me in. But I was
told that the admissions folks were kind of questioning (my credentials),
and this was in the middle of summer and I was to report in August. I
don’t know exactly what happened but Leo Jenkins reportedly got involved
and cleared the matter up and said, ‘He’s in.’ I’m in school because of
all the coaches, Stas, Leo Jenkins… I’m honored – I’m a Pirate for 40
years – and I’m honored by (Leo’s efforts).”
Finding Football Heaven
For many freshmen coming into a collegiate
program, the time is one marked by a little fear, a little self-doubt, a
little chaos. For Lineberry, his arrival on campus was not the norm for
a youngster getting read to play with the “big boys.”
“My freshman year… well, I thought I was a
kid in a candy store (referring to all of the beautiful girls on
campus),” Lineberry recalled. “We were all in the dorms together… we’d
scrimmage some with the varsity… we knew all those guys. A lot of the
guys starting on the freshman team, a year later they were gone. I think
we had probably 109 freshmen come in (his first year) and there were
maybe eight or nine that were here by my senior year. It was definitely
a cattle call.”
And Lineberry, being the big-time athlete,
saw East Carolina as another type of candy store. He came in ready to
take the town by storm despite being a newbie.
“I looked around at all of the beautiful
women and the downtown bars and I said, ‘There ain’t no way I’m flunking
out of this place,’” he said. “Of course, I almost did in the first
quarter of my freshmen year. It was just a wonderful experience and it
was a wild time. We were kind of wild coming out of high school. It was
an Animal House situation, especially with the older guys, and
some of us fit right in with it (as freshmen).”
Lineberry, however, came
in not only with the attitude of an upper classman, he brought game.
“I don’t want to say I was cocky, but I
guess I was,” he said.
And Lineberry also recognized the talent
around him.
“Jim Flowe was the fullback and he was
another one who had like 39 scholarship offers coming out of high
school,” he said of Flowe, who to this date is still a close friend. “He
was about 238 pounds and ran a 10-flat hundred. We had some good
athletes and Flowe was the fullback, so our junior year, you're coming
into guys like
Don Tyson,
George Wheeler, guys like that.”
Bred to play linebacker, Lineberry found
himself out of place in Stas’s defensive his junior year.
“Stas put me at left tackle and put Flowe
at left defensive end, so we played on that side my junior and senior
year,” he said. “I’d drop back to linebacker sometimes. I remember when
he moved me. Stas came up to me, being his normal, very sarcastic self,
rubbing his pipe against his teeth, and he says to me, ‘Heyyyyy, Liiiinnnneberrrrrry,’ – that was the way he talked – so he says,
‘Liiiinnnneberrrrrry, we can’t haaaave a 240-pound liiiiiinebacker and
200-pound liiiiineman, so you better go in the line.’
 |
Lineberry,
right, with former Pirate Kevin
Moran at
the bus station following the
1966 game
against Richmond (Submitted) |
|
“I was like, ‘Oh Lord!’ They were trying to
beef up the line and they had myself and Kevin Moran, Tyson, Wheeler,
these guys, so I played my last two years at defensive left tackle
primarily and actually I thought that had blown my chances to go to pro
ball because of it. But actually I still got drafted – my name came up
because they remembered me from my sophomore year – and that is how I
got drafted by the Buffalo Bills (17th round, 417th
overall).”
Still, even in hindsight, Lineberry
acknowledges that the change did not sit well with him.
“I didn’t particularly like having my
position changed but it was their meal books, it’s their program and you
do what they say to do,” he said. “You gotta be coachable. If they say,
‘Play tackle,’ you play tackle. Oh yeah, it (diminished the fun). I
wanted to be the best linebacker to ever play at Wadesboro High School
and when I came here, I wanted to be the best linebacker ever to play at
East Carolina. But, I started all of my years and did what they asked me
to do to the best of my abilities.”
During his time at East Carolina, he
experienced the highs of success and the disappointment of not meeting
expectations, struggling through a 4-5-1 season as a sophomore in 1966,
leading his team to a fantastic 8-2 campaign in ’67 and then leaving on
a disappointing 4-6 senior season.
“To encapsulate that whole era,…” he
pondered. “In 1967, we had a tremendous football team. We had a really
good offensive line with guys like Kevin Moran and Johnny Schwartz and
Butch Colson – who finished fourth or fifth in the nation rushing – at
fullback. But the next year, these guys leave, and our offensive line
well… let’s just say Butch wasn’t as a productive in ’68. He got beat up
pretty bad then. It tickles me because, I was talking about how the
coaches today… like JT (former ECU coach John Thompson), and I saw where he was talking
about Chris Moore, saying that 75 reps was too many and all that stuff.
And I just laughed like hell. In ’66, we played the University of
Southern Mississippi for the first time ever in Ficklen and we were in
the game and it was like 12-7 into the fourth quarter. My senior year,
they just annihilated us down there. Well, we went the whole Southern
Miss game and did not pick up a single first down. How many reps did the
defense play when we were on the field the whole game? The next game was
the University of Richmond in Ficklen and we had gone into halftime and
still had not picked up a first down. We went six straight quarters and
the defense was playing the whole game… forget (the talk about too many)
reps.
 |
Lineberry
(56) chases down a Louisville ball
carrier in 1966 (Submitted) |
|
“We beat Richmond my sophomore and junior
years, just like we beat Louisville down here. I told JT, look we were
beating Louisville here in the ’60s. We went a whole game and a half
without earning a first down. Now that’s earning your meal books and
scholarship when you do that.”
Lineberry recalls his time with great
pride. Not just because of his contributions but maybe even more so
because he knows he played during an era of football that has since
disappeared.
“The thing about that era…,” he thought
aloud. “Just like the Junction Boys and Wadesboro High
School, these were tough times, we didn’t get water breaks like they
normally do. I remember we would scrimmage for hours without a water
break. I remember there was this one guy who was a backup center – he
really wasn’t a college ballplayer – but he just loved it and wanted to
be on the team (at ECU). He had one of those old facemasks – a double
bar that just kind of hung down. And we get out there and I started to
say, George Wheeler was real bad about it… but rest his soul, he is not
here to defend himself, but we get out there and somebody said, ‘OK
let’s do it.” We’d break his nose so that he’d bleed on the ball and the
coaches had to come out and change the ball and they’d give us a water
break.
“That was some tough days back then. It
drives me crazy… I wouldn’t know how to tackle if I couldn’t use my
helmet and come in like a battering ram. The one thing that I told JT
when I first met him and this is the God’s honest truth, back in the
’60s, even Ed’s teams, East Carolina was known as a hitting football team
– tremendous contact – and I’ve always said a good hit is better than
sex and twice as long. Doug Buffone, who was a great linebacker for
Louisville in the ’60s and was an outside linebacker in the Dick Butkus
days in Chicago, was talking to about 1,000 people at a coaching clinic
and somebody asked, ‘Doug, what was the most physical game you ever
played in?’ They were probably thinking about Green Bay in the snow or
the Detroit Lions and he was up at the podium and he said, ‘Gentlemen, I
gotta be honest with you. When I was in college, we played this team
called East Carolina. I’ve never been hit so many different ways in my
life and hard, too.’ That’s the kind of reputation we had at East
Carolina back then.”
And Lineberry has a good example of that
from his days.
“In 1967, we played Southern Illinois down
here, and it was all clean football but they left like nine (players) at
Pitt Memorial Hospital when they flew out,” he said. “And so then you
see that and then you see it slack off. Now… I go to most of the games
(at ECU) and I know in the ’90s it slacked off. I just go nuts when (the
players) are not hitting somebody. But going back to JT, I said, ‘You
know, we’ll back you and we want you to win every game but we know that
is not possible, I said, as long as your boys are hitting, that’s East
Carolina football.’ At least that is the way it used to be.”
Lineberry knows that what he is seeing today
on the field doesn’t resemble his days in the Purple & Gold.
“It’s a different game now… it’s just stand
up and push,” he said. “I will tell you this, when I was in
graduate school we had an alumni game, and then in 1975 when
Pat Dye was
here, we had a 2nd alumni game and I came down. I was the
second oldest guy to come down and play – my last season was ’69-’70
when I played a little pro ball, so I hadn’t played in five years and I
got out there. Robert Ellis was the oldest guy there, by the way, and he
was running back the kickoffs – so us crazy old guys showed up. But, I
was back in my linebacker position and one of the guys – a little wide
receiver – did a little down and in. He came across the middle, so I
planted my foot and clotheslined him. I mean, just right knocked his
helmet off. The ball went up in the air and everything else. Now I won’t
tell you what he was calling me, you know. That was 1976 and I clotheslined him and I said, ‘No, you don’t understand, I’m not dirty, I’m a
fossilized old throwback ’60’s linebacker, but come back across my middle
(and that’s what you get).’ Now that was two different eras back then
(compared to today).”
Lineberry’s time at East Carolina was a
tumultuous time for a teen-ager. It was the early stages of the Vietnam
War and even on the tiny campus in Greenville – sandwiched between Camp LeJeune to the Southeast and Fort Bragg to the Southwest – tensions were
in the air. For Lineberry – whose brother had just returned from his
first combat tour at the time – there was quite a bit of emotion running
just below the surface. And when that angst came out, it almost ended
his career.
“I almost got kicked off the team in 1966
because I was over at the Student Union one day with Richard “Rooster”
Narrow – who always reminds me of this story when we talk – but that
was the first year that my brother, Jerry, was in Vietnam with the 5th
Recon in the Marine Corps,” Lineberry said. “I’ve always been a little
conservative... well, real conservative. So, I’m walking in the Student
Union and the art department had a pro Viet-Cong table set up. Now, 1966
was a little early for that stuff to be happening, so we go in there and
stand by the fountain to get a drink. I made a comment to a bunch of
ballplayers and I said, ‘If somebody buys a drink, I’ll go and throw it
on (the guy at the table).’ So they gave me a huge drink, the biggest
you could buy, and I walked up there and said, ‘What are you guys doing
here?’ and I just slung the drink over there. Well this guy jumped up
and he looked like Grizzly Adams in coveralls. I mean, this guy was
bigger than me. When he jumped up, I just grabbed the table and turned
it up and slammed him. I didn’t want to let that big guy up so I was
just pounding away. And we had a melee there and I don’t know where all
the reporters and police came from, so I just slipped away.
“Now, this was right before practice so I
go on over to the field and they say, ‘Coach Stas wants to see you.’ I
go into Coach Stas’s office and sit down and he says, ‘Heyyy, Liiiiineberrrry, I got a reporter from the Raleigh
News & Observer
saying that we had an East Carolina football player in an anti-war
demonstration. I told him, we didn’t have East Carolina football players
in anti-war demonstrations’ – meaning, you’re gone if that is what you
were doing. I was like, ‘No coach, no. I was beating them up… I
was fighting them.’ So he says, ‘Ohhh… well that’s good Liiiiiineberrrry.
You go on and get your equipment and get out there to practice.’

In East Carolina’s first game against
Southern Mississippi,
in 1966,
Lineberry (left) and Neil Hughes (43) converge
on the ball carrier.
(Submitted)
He chuckles about the story now, but
Lineberry can’t really retell it without the laughter eventually
turning to pain.
“My brother came (from his first tour in
1966-67) and actually made it to East Carolina quite a bit,” Lineberry
said. “He went back in 1970 for his second tour there and was killed. He
was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross.”
In an ironic note, Jerry Lineberry was
attached to the 7th Marines of the 1st Marine
Division for his second tour and that very unit is the same that Wayne’s
younger son, Jerry Matthew Lineberry, served with in the Marine Corps.
“I named my youngest son after my brother,”
Lineberry said. “My brother was Jerry Eugene and my son is Jerry
Matthew. It is (ironic) that they both were in the same unit.”
Much like the fight in the Student Union,
Lineberry always identified with the toughest of times. Where many a
player might hope to draw the weakest link in an opponent to exploit,
Lineberry was very much the type of guy who wanted the toughest match
up, the biggest challenge. So it is no surprise that he recalls most
vividly some of the toughest moments he encountered as a player.
“In 1966, we played Louisville and Southern
Miss and they were playing like an SEC schedule then,” he recalled. “We
played West Texas State who had Mercury Morris and Duane Thomas – who
played little because of Abbie Owens – and there were five or six of
those guys who were with us with the Buffalo Bills. These were good
football players. But, have you ever heard of Parsons (Iowa) College?
Now get this and this is very important because people think you‘re
crazy if you retell it, but Parsons College was written about in
Sports Illustrated and was called “Flunk Out U” because anyone with
money could go there.
“Now they only lasted (as a program) about
two years before they went by the wayside. Then the University of Tampa
took over as far as the outlaw school, with guys like (John) Metuszak and
those guys and then that went by the wayside.”
Lineberry continues:
“Now Parsons dressed in Green and White
just like the New York Jets,” he said. “I played against the New York
Jets and Parsons College was bigger than the New York Jets. The fullback
was Frank Antonini, who was an all-SEC player at Kentucky, and then there
was a receiver who was all-SEC at Alabama who had to leave for some
reason. They were a semi-pro team. We were the only team that ever beat
Parsons at Parsons. We beat them 27-26 on a frozen field and it was
absolutely miserable. But it was a
Neal Hughes highlight film. He was
going on both offense and defense. So Hughes made a long run and scored.
“It was the most beautiful highlight I’ve
ever seen… he’s going down the sidelines with a safety. He and that
safety are juking each other for about 40 yards and Neal is going back
and forth with shoulder moves and the guy is following him and finally
the guy trips up and Neal goes into the end zone. We go ahead of Parsons
by one point. We kick off and the very first play, the guy runs around
the end and is gone for a TD. You can see Neal on the film coming from
the top of the screen… you see Neal Hughes come across the field at an
angle. The guy is running for like an 80-yard touchdown. Hughes runs him
down, grabs him at the back of his jersey and brings him down around the
3-yard line to save the game. It was just unbelievable.”
He gets excited when he talks about his
former teammate.
“We had guys like Neal – and I played
either with or against three Heisman Trophy winners (in college and in
the pros) –
and Neal was just as good as any of them, if not better. We had some
great players at East Carolina.”
Lineberry also likes to retell the story of
the hardest hit he ever witnessed.
“We went to Southern Illinois in 1966 in
Carbondale (IL) and they were a huge team, too,” he said. “It was a punt, and Flowe peeled back around and was coming down the sidelines and this big
old guard – I think Robert Ellis (WB, 1964-66) was running the ball to
the sideline – and this big old guard was reaching out just fixin’ to
tackle Billy. So this guy has run 20 or 30 yards and Flowe is running 20
or 30 yards – that’s a lot of mass coming together – and Flowe is coming
right at him and this guy never sees Flowe. Just as he’s reaching out to
tackle Ellis – right in front of our bench – Flowe went past him and the
only thing that hit him was Jim’s forearm to his face, so the guy goes
parallel and his helmet came off like someone threw it down the field
about 15 yards.
“The guy got up and fell down and kept
getting up and falling down but they got his helmet and his ear was in
his helmet. Now that is what I’m talking about hitting at East Carolina.
That was a good one. We always tried to hit as hard as we could, but I
don’t remember ever getting one off like that myself. We were just kind
of a mean team then.”
He gets excited thinking back on his years
and how he played as a Pirate.
“I will say one thing, there were a couple
of times, without being specific, but I could have intercepted a lot more
passes as a linebacker, but the best hit in the world is when a back or a
wide receiver is doing a down and in and they are stretching out for the
ball and you’re coming the other way and you just put your helmet in
their chest,” he said. “I mean right in their numbers and you try to
take one lung and put it over there with the other lung. That was always
fun to do.”
Toughness
Equals Opportunity
Coming off a tough 4-6 senior season,
Lineberry wasn’t sure of his future. He felt deep inside that being
played out of position on the defensive front most likely erased any
opportunities he might have on the next level. It was wartime and having
a brother who had spent a tour in Vietnam and living in a pro-war
atmosphere, Lineberry mulled following in his brother's footsteps as a post-graduation next
step.
“I thought about the Marine Corps,” he
recalled. “When they asked me what I majored in, I said, ‘Staying
eligible.’ But, I also always wanted to get to the NFL. The pro scouts
always came around and they talked to a bunch of us and they timed us. I
remember there were a bunch of scouts around. I was over 240 pounds and
they just had you take your helmet off and run in full equipment and I
was running 4.9 forties in full equipment. That wasn’t that bad for
those days. They would talk to you but you don’t know you were getting
drafted or not, so I was thinking about joining the Marines… I was
surprised I was drafted.”
The call came from the Buffalo Bills in the
17th round.
“When I got drafted, I was surprised,” he
said. “I was actually talking to the Marine Corps. You gotta understand,
in 1969, if you went to Vietnam as a 2nd Lieutenant, your life
expectancy was like 15 minutes. But, my name come up and I was drafted
(by the Bills). Now that was in the same class as O.J. Simpson and he
got all the money anyway. None was left over for the rest of us guys,
but I tagged along up there to play.”
Which was true, at least, in Lineberry’s
case. The throwback linebacker consulted his throwback coach and got
some advice that might have been pure, but not so wise.
“Well, you listen to your coaches and Stas
told me, and he meant well, he said, ‘Hey, don’t sign for a bonus, go up
there hungry,’” Lineberry recalls. “He wanted me to make the team. So,
(Buffalo) sent a little equipment by a guy and I signed the contract. I
get up there to Niagara University and they’ve got free agents up there
with thousands of dollars in the bank and I am like, ‘Hey what is
this?’ ”
Lineberry was quickly introduced to the NFL
in camp.
“I was having to play outside linebacker,”
he recalled of his first camp. “I remember, I got tied up with this big
old tight end and I had first back out of the backfield
(responsibility). He had a couple of steps on me – about five yards – it
was O.J. Simpson, and I was like, ‘I ain’t catching the Juice, you
know.’ ”
Indoctrinated to the talent level,
Lineberry settled in to make a run of it. And he did well and had a lot
of fun doing it.
“There were a lot of great guys there and
good camaraderie,” Lineberry described. “And talk about politically
incorrect guys... a lot of teasing and carrying on. I got cut and in
those days they had farm teams in the Atlantic Coast Football League and
Buffalo had the Hartford Knights. Well, Buffalo sent me down to Hartford
and I was the middle linebacker there in 1969. Then, I went back to
training camp in 1970 and made the final cut. But then I got cut two
weeks later on a business deal thing and I got sent back down to
Hartford and finished up with the Knights for two years at linebacker.”
After two seasons in the ACFL, Lineberry
felt like he saw the handwriting on the wall for his professional
career, so he made a change.
“I went back to graduate school at East
Carolina,” he said. “I didn’t know if I could go back to the Bills that
year, though I knew I could certainly go to Hartford to play. But, I
already had my teaching degree, so in 1971, I just went for my Masters.
“It was hard to leave football behind, but
I’ve always been a fan of East Carolina (where he returned for school).
I watch very little pro ball now. The first two years I got out of pro
ball, I didn’t want to watch it because (as you are developing) you see
the Dick Butkuses of the world killing people and every day they are
bigger, faster, stronger. You build it up so much in your mind by
watching it, but then you get out there (in the pros) and you get knocked
down and you say, ‘You know what, it wasn’t fatal.’ It’s like going from
the junior varsity to the varsity and it kind of busts your bubble about
pro football.”
Back in the Pirate Family
In ’71, Lineberry was a graduate assistant
under Sonny Randle. Among the players Lineberry found and recruited was
a 5-11 defensive end from Havelock named
Cary Godette, who turned out to
be an All-America at East Carolina. Lineberry had insisted that, though Godette was not the 6-3, 6-4 type most Division I colleges were looking
for, the defensive end would be a great one at East Carolina. Godette, of course,
proved him correct and he never forgot it.
A story that Lineberry likes to recall when
talking about the type of bonds forged as a Pirate:
“My son played football at Sabino High
School in Tucson, AZ – the same program that (current Pirates safety)
Zach Baker played for. Philip’s team in 1989 went 12-2 with a unique
group of guys. The next year they went 14-0 and won the 4A State
Championship. So, while Zach came out of the program talking about Sabino High School being a powerhouse, well, my son helped lay the
foundation for that. He was a linebacker and center and played defensive
line. He was All-State but was not a Blue Chip recruit. I put together a
highlight film of him and sent it to Cary Godette because I wanted
Philip to be a Pirate. Now, Philip was not 6-0 and Cary remembered that
other player who wasn’t quite 6-0. (Despite that) Philip went to Eastern
Arizona Junior College and then went on to play at Northern Arizona.
But, Cary never forgot. I saw Cary at the Letterman’s Weekend (2004) and
gave him a hug.”
It was these types of relationships that
had so bonded Lineberry to East Carolina, that it sometimes made making
the right career decision the hardest thing to do for a tried and true
Pirate.
“In 1972, I went home to Wadesboro,” he
said. “I was the head football and wrestling coach and did that for one
year,” he said. “At Wadesboro, we had a lot of rebuilding on the
football team, but I took the wrestling team and did real well with
that. You can turn a wrestling team around real quick. I enjoyed it. To
this day, I go to Wadesboro and I have guys come up to me and I’m their
coach and I only coached one year. I mean it really touches your heart
when you experience that.”
His coaching career at Wadesboro – and in
general for that matter – would be short-lived as another influential
Pirate came calling.
“Harold Bullard, one of our East Carolina
coaches, had gone with New York Life,” he explained. “A bunch of us
(former players) fell in with him. I went to the office in Charlotte in
1973 with New York Life and then in 1975 went through the Management
Chairs and I did that for most of my years (in the insurance business).”
So was the beginning of a stellar career in
the insurance business. It is fitting that it was one of his coaches who
mentored his non-football career. Where Bullard was a corporate sponsor
for Lineberry, it was Emory who was the biggest influence.
“Ed Emory was that kind of coach for me,”
Lineberry said. “I liked most of my coaches, but Ed had always been a
father to me. Actually, I was one of the ones pushing for his Hall of
Fame induction for years. He was very deserving. When he was out of
coaching before he went to Richmond (Senior) and he was in Wadesboro as
the Junior High principal, I would always get around Ed and I’d say, ‘I
was Ed’s first all-American and I made him everything he is.” And he’d
said, ‘Thanks a lot, that’s why I’m a principal.’ He is still one of my
best, dear friends today.”
Finding His Way Home
Lineberry has always followed the program
since he left Greenville following his playing days. He has been a loyal
Pirate Club member and he has been a fan, making his way to as many
games as he could each year. Everything was pulling him back to his
beginnings. And the pull has never been stronger than it has been of
late, watching his beloved program fall on hard times.
“In 1983, I was dropping thousands of dollars for
flights to get to the games,” he said. “And, I cannot imagine not going
to the games. When it is football season, you go to see the Pirates
play.”
He has oftentimes thought how gratifying it would
be to have a few minutes with some of the players on the team to share a
little of his own history.
“I think it comes back to – and I was talking to
Harold Robinson, and he was like, I could come talk to the team about what
it means to be a Pirate and about the chip on the shoulder – and I
thought about, ‘Why did I wind up a Pirate?’ When you have to fight for
everything you have, you get the Pirates’ attitude. You get the attitude
of Leo Jenkins – God Bless him – you get to be associated with him. He
has had such a great impact on many of us and we watched how he fought
the big boys in Chapel Hill and Raleigh.
“You get out there and it carries on throughout
life, what it means to be a Pirate. I have been honored and privileged
that since 1965 I was given the chance to be a Pirate. What is the
saying, ‘Pirate born and Pirate bred and when I die I’m Pirate
dead.' I always feel the same excitement when I come back, even during
the down times.”
And what else would he tell the current players?
“I would tell the players about what it means to be
a Pirate and what it means to be standing out there on your home field.
What those boys learn on the football field will last them for their
lifetime. I am still close friends with many of my teammates… they are
among my best friends.
“I would tell them that ECU is a bonding
(experience) that is unique. Everyone is in the same boat and sometimes
that boat may be in rough waters and leaking and you look over at the
people on the luxury liner like the wine and cheese crowd in Chapel
Hill. We all talk all the time – me, Jim Flowe and Battle Wall – I talk
to Battle, and UNC just doesn’t have the same chip on the shoulder. When
you make steel, you have to heat it up and pound the hell out of it. (UNC-CH
and N.C. State) just haven’t been through what we’ve been through and had to
fight for everything they got. I look back, I could have played anywhere
and I’ve thought about it over the years, ‘How did I end up at East
Carolina?’ But it is one of the greatest things in my life, it is one of
my life’s enjoyment.”
Lineberry’s ETA for Greenville is nearing, he
hopes, and perhaps he will get his chance to share his stories with the
current players. He wants to make money for the future of the
program… and he really doesn’t have too many other hobbies these days.
“I enjoy ECU football the most,” he said. “Of
course, I still work out and keep in shape. I proved that I don’t play
golf at the Lettermen’s golf tournament, because I borrowed Matt
Maloney’s clubs and after 18 holes, I said, ‘Matt this is terrible you
don’t have any good shots left in these clubs.’ When I was out West, I
learned to snow ski out there – you know with the Rocky Mountains and
Telluride right there.
“I played team tennis out there for nine years and
I played five or six times a week. I was a 4.0 (USTA rating) so we’d
play on Saturdays and practice and we were playing all the time. I was
frustrated because as a 4.0 player you can hit the ball back a few times
but if I couldn’t get to a 4.5 or a 5.0, well, I just walked away from
it. In 1992, I came back (to VA) because I am a Southern boy and I had
to fly all over the country to see my Pirates, but when I got back in
1992, I dropped my racket and never pick it up again. And this ties to
ECU football and my personality. To be a good tennis player, you have to
be able to think two, possibly three shots ahead and I could never do
that. I tried… I have tried, but all I can think about is that guy across
the net with skinny legs is beating me and I just want to jump across
the net and beat him to death with my racket. I’m dead serious. I’m
saying, ‘Go ahead and take some more lessons to get to a 4.5 or a 5.0 or
just give it up.’ I still have those rackets in the closet since 1992.”
Getting back home to Greenville for good might be
just what the doctored ordered for his psyche, but it could come at a
hefty price to his ticker if things don’t change soon with his beloved
Pirates.
“It’s always hard for me at the games,” he laughed.
“And I (have) to tell myself (sometimes), ‘Wayne they’re not paying you.
You’re not in school anymore, it ain’t my job anymore. That was 30 years
ago.’ When they don’t hit anybody out there, it drives me crazy.”
Lineberry is a fighter, in more ways than meets the
eye. He likes to tell another story about that fighting spirit.
“I see
Jim Gudger a lot when I’m down in
Greenville,” he said. “And this story is really his story, but I like to
tell it. We played at the University of Tennessee in 1996 and I hadn’t
seen Gudger in a long while and Jim said he was walking by a crowd
(tailgating) and saw a big commotion and he saw me right in the middle
of it. Now this was the first time he’s seen me in years. I’m standing
in a group of about 50 or 60 (Tennessee fans) and they were mouthing off
at East Carolina people and being rude – kind of like those fans up at
West Virginia this year (2004). I was like, ‘Come on all you SOBs,
c’mon, let’s go!’ I was challenging the whole group.
“So Gudger walks up and says, ‘Now you guys are in
trouble, there’s two of us.’ That was funny… here’s Gudger going
back-to-back with me in this crowd of Tennessee fans. Guess they thought
we were crazy and the left us alone.”
He is definitely a fighter and his spirit has never
been tested as much as it was recently when he faced much more than a
crowd of angry Vols fans.
“This past May, I went in for a physical and my PSA
was up,” he said. “I never had any problems like that in my family and
here I find out I had cancer. So a week later, I’m in the hospital and
I’m like, ‘Filet me like a fish and take it out! Do whatever you got to
do to kill it.’ They took it out and then the PSA went back up. This was
just a couple months ago. I took a shot, went through radiation even
though everything got cut out, but evidently some cells were in the
pelvic area. But I went to the doctor’s and had a blood test and it’s
gone. I had the Grim Reaper by the throat and I’m trying to kick his
butt. Of course, it wasn’t me, it was a higher power that did that
(defeated the cancer).”
Lineberry didn’t want to go into much more
detail… no need. He took it head on and he is, so far, winning that
grapple against the Reaper.
If the brush with mortality did anything in
Lineberry, it was to accelerate his plans for the future. And he is glad
that that future is going to start sooner rather than later.

Lineberry, 3rd from left standing,
tailgating in 2004
with friends, from left: Tracy and Lee Durham, Wayne,
fiancee Diane. (Submitted)
“I’ve been a Pirate Club member for 28 or 29
years,” he said. “I’ve been a community chairman and everything else.
I’ve been coming back with the same friends and have been since we got
out of school. It amazes me that more – especially athletes – don’t
give back. I’ve been since I was up in Richmond when I first went into
management with New York Life. Stuart Siegel and I started the Pirates
Club back up, up there (in Richmond). Just getting people to come out
and have some beer and get Ed Emory or Pat Dye to come up there, you
know. So I’ve been involved ever since I left school.
“Of course, Id like it if we were getting the BCS
money. Look at what Wake Forest and Duke get for their program. Wake’s
come up but I mean they get $7-8 million a year from their BCS cut. It’s
kind of like Pirates helping Pirates… we’ve got to put the money in the
bank. Nothing has ever come easy for us and that is why we have the chip
on our shoulder. We’ve got to put the money in the bank ourselves and if
its there, fine, we don’t have to worry about going to I-AA because we
put the money in the bank ourselves.”
Lineberry is excited now that his endowment
strategy is
rolling out with the Pirates Club. With his former teammate and head of
the Pirates Club, Dennis Young, working with him, he feels like his mark
will be deeper than the blood, sweat, and tears he left on the Ficklen
turf as a player. His legacy, he hopes, will be putting in place the
foundation for an endowment that is beyond the wildest dreams of those
who count themselves among the Pirate faithful.
“It’s like everything else we have faced (and
conquered) in the past,” he said. “We don’t know any other way (but to
succeed).”
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