FEAR FACTORFlashy, spicy, and tough: no one who knew him—Flashy, spicy, and tough: no one who knew him—least of all his players—will forget Peahead Walker.BY BILL F. HENSLEY (’50)It has been more than fifty years since Douglas Clyde“Peahead” Walker paced the sidelines at a <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong>football game, snapping at players and officials, and exhortinghis team to play harder and smarter. Since those memorabledays, the legend of the colorful, dynamic coach—the mostsuccessful in Deacon history—has been kept alive by old gradsand former players, all of whom have a never-ending repertoireof Peahead stories.Walker, a short, stocky fireplug of a man, was widely knownfor his flashy dress, his spicy tongue, his toughness, and hisability to turn out strong, well-coached football teams thatblocked and tackled like the demons for whom they werenamed. A complex man who was sometimes controversial, hecould be as funny as a stand-up comedian or as ill-tempered asa wounded animal, yet he was known for his sensitivity off thefield. His slow, Southern drawl was best described as a halfgrunt,half-snarl, and his biting, sarcastic barbs could sting anelephant’s hide.When he yelled, which he did frequently atmistake-prone players, the earth shook.Throughout the Walker regime, from 1937 until 1950, theDeacons built a solid reputation as “giant killers” by beatingsome of the nation’s most powerful teams.<strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong> teamswere highly regarded for their devastating blocking and tacklingand their relentless pursuit of victory.“Win or lose, you didn’t feel like going out dancing afterplaying a Peahead-coached team,” said former N. C. State playerBill Thompson. “I went home and soaked for hours in a tubof hot water to ease the pain of my bruises.” Walker compileda 77-51-6 record during his fourteen years at <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong>. Hisbest seasons were 8-1 in 1944 and 7-3 in 1939 and 1940.TheDeacons had six wins in 1942, 1946, 1947, 1948 and 1950. Histeams were under .500 on only four occasions. Along the waythere were two bowl games.The 1946 team won the inauguralGator Bowl, beating South Carolina 26-14, while the 1950squad lost 20-7 to Baylor in Birmingham’s Dixie Bowl.The game most fans remember came in 1947 when <strong>Wake</strong><strong>Forest</strong> knocked off a nationally ranked Tennessee team 19-6 inKnoxville, stunning the Volunteers with their only loss of the30 <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong> <strong>Magazine</strong>
Called on the carpet byPresident Thurman Kitchinafter complaints by offendedobservers, Walker drawled,“Aw, Dr. Kitchin. Damn to afootball coach is like amento a preacher.”year.Top-ranked Boston College and others also fell to anunder-manned Deacon squad that wouldn’t be denied.Walker, a rotund 5-feet-6, came along during an era ofhard-nosed, demanding football coaches who were renownedfor their tough competitiveness, brutal practices, and constantemphasis on fundamentals. Bear Bryant at Texas A&M andAlabama, Clemson’s Frank Howard, Georgia’s Wally Butts,Duke’s Wallace Wade, and Tennessee’s Bob Neyland weretypical “old school” coaches whose philosophy centered arounddiscipline, conditioning, long, hard practices, verbal abuse, andpunishing drills.They strived for—and achieved—a “fear factor”among their players.“I was scared to death of Coach Walker,” said Hall of Famequarterback Dickie Davis (’52). “I knew he would kill me if Imade a mistake or didn’t play well, so I busted my butt dayafter day to keep him off my back. He was a perfectionist, hardand fast, and would accept nothing less.”“Our practices were seldom fun,” said end Jim Duncan (’49)of Sunset Beach, North Carolina, an all-time Deacon great. “Itwas always serious business. Most days we worked until afterdark running plays a hundred times and blocking and tacklinguntil we ached all over.We had more injuries in practice thanwe ever had in games.”Both Davis and Duncan say that Walker was prone to “runoff ” the borderline player who didn’t have the talent or thewillpower to tough it out. “We started practice one year withabout one hundred twenty players,” Duncan said, “and lostthree or four guys a day. Later that year we looked at the startingbackfields of Georgia Tech, Auburn, and Alabama and eachhad players that had started off the year at <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong>.”Walker came to <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong> in 1937 to take over fromCoach James Weaver. Under Weaver, who became athleticsdirector, the Deacons struggled, winning only ten games, losingtwenty-three and tying one in four years. Previously,Walkerhad coached for one year at Atlantic Christian (8-1) and capturedstatewide attention by turning Elon into a small-collegepower during his ten-year tenure, compiling a 51-37-2 record.A three-sports star at Howard College, the Alabama nativecame to North Carolina to play professional baseball and managein the old Coastal Plains League. A fiery shortstop, hejoked that he once had been traded to another team for acountry ham and a hound dog.The talented Walker alsobecame a scout for the New York Yankees and continued in thatrole after he began coaching.At <strong>Wake</strong> <strong>Forest</strong> he quickly became known for his jovial personalityand his highly guarded privacy off the field, and for hismartinet, profane demeanor on the field. Practices often featuredvicious two-on-one and “gangsome” drills for disciplinaryreasons. “He was tough as nails,” said Bill Eutsler (’40) ofCheraw, South Carolina, who went on to become one ofNorth Carolina’s most successful high school coaches.“Football was his life, and he expected it to be yours, too.Westressed fundamentals constantly. Peahead’s success came fromexcellent recruiting, the ability to teach blocking, tackling, andkicking, and from demanding one hundred percent from everyplayer on the team.The players didn’t necessarily like him butthey respected him and went all out to win.”While some of the players resented his militaristic styleand his verbal jabs, the news media loved him. Because of hisunusual humor and dedication to the game, Peahead became<strong>September</strong> <strong>2003</strong> 31