As a coach, he was a motivator. As a teacher, he was an inspiration. As a man, he was a gem. He was Al Roderigues, a longtime assistant coach of the Stanford men’s volleyball team.

Roderigues, called “Big Al,” had been an assistant coach for the Stanford men’s volleyball team since 1992. Over those 18 years, he helped Stanford win three Mountain Pacific Sports Federation (MPSF) titles and the 1997 National Championship. In 18 years on the bench he became the heartbeat of the Stanford program—a leader who treated the players like sons and brought out the best in them.

At the end of 2008, Al Roderigues was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. They told him he had two months to live.

Two weeks ago, on March 19, Roderigues passed away. He lived over a year longer than the doctors told him he would.

The people who saw Roderigues during his final days would all tell you the same thing—he barely showed an ounce of sadness or defeat. All he showed was the same thing he showed his entire life—simple happiness and abundant joy.

The Man

An atmosphere of optimism, loyalty and bliss surrounded Roderigues wherever he went.

“He was that guy and that coach,” said men’s volleyball head coach John Kosty.

Kosty described Big Al’s role on the team as that of a mentor and a father figure.

“Al had a knack to bridge the gap,” he said. “People were attracted to him.”

You can’t talk to anyone in the volleyball program without hearing mention of Roderigues’ van rides to away games with the freshmen. In the current atmosphere where players and coaches are focused on the sport and winning, the ability of Roderigues to ditch the authority figure and take on the father figure was what made him who he was.

Though Roderigues became sick during last year’s season, he was still able to attend practices and came to some games with a chemo pack attached to him. He was cheerful and upbeat. He joked and laughed. His condition was worsening but his attitude was not.

Two months passed, and Roderigues was still there. He was engaged in a valiant and courageous battle with the inevitable. The team knew he wasn’t going to capitulate; he was a fighter.

“During [the 2009 season] he couldn’t make it to many practices,” senior opposite Evan Romero said. “When he did come, he was more of a symbol—he was fighting his battle and still trying to come and see us.”

Eventually Roderigues had to stay at home, unable to move very far or very fast. He was able to make one trip to Stanford this past January to watch a match—more than 10 months after the cancer was supposed to have won. After the game, the players walked up to the second level of Maples Pavilion to find him in his wheelchair, greeting him with handshakes and hugs. He was beaming with joy. That would be the last volleyball match he would ever witness.

The Motto

Roderigues will be remembered for many things to many people. At Stanford, he may be best remembered for something he began in 2007.

In 2007 the men’s volleyball team finished the season with a 3-25 record, the worst in the MPSF. It was a low point in the program’s history. The team had talented players but could not put it all together at once.

“It was pretty demoralizing,” senior setter Kawika Shoji said of his freshman year. “We were in a lot of matches and came up short in almost every one. It took a toll on the team. It was very frustrating as a whole.”

Then came Roderigues, who was adamant that things were going to change. “Worst to first,” he told the team. He said Stanford was going to get back to where they were capable of being. He especially wanted to instill the motto in the five freshmen, the future of the program.             And when the heart and soul of the program is on a mission to turn things around, then you can’t help but go right with him. Eventually, everyone believed in him.

2008: a 17-11 record.

“He would reinforce to us that it was a process, not just a quick outcome,” Romero said of his sophomore year, the first season under the mantra. “Can’t get to first in one year. He kept us relaxed and focused, helped us learn from different stumbling blocks along the way.”

2009: 21-11.

“He kept the team together emotionally,” said Shoji. “He was enthusiastic, positive and uplifting…he kept us together.”

When Roderigues was weakening at the beginning of this season, the team was strengthening. They would not let him go without showing him that they could do it. On March 8, Stanford rose to the top of the rankings for the first time since 2001. They also were leading the MPSF. That was it. Roderigues had guided the team from worst to first. Best of all, he lived to see it happen.

“He gave us an attainable goal,” Kosty said. “He knew this team had it in them. He knew it was possible.”

“It was nice to know that he was able to see us reach that first place marker,” Romero said. Roderigues passed away just 11 days after Stanford’s first official No. 1 ranking. They have not ceded it since.

“The fact that he was able to make it that far was pretty unbelievable to the team,” Romero continued.

Maybe it was pure destiny for Big Al to be able to witness Stanford at No. 1 when he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it was his reward for all he had done for the program and for the players. Whatever it was, one of the last moments of his life was seeing “worst to first” actually come true. It was perhaps a perfect ending.

The Memory

Al Roderigues will be remembered for his infectious personality, big heart and his ability to buffer any tough situation—whether with his cancer or with his team.

“He was uplifting and inspiring,” Shoji said.

Kosty is keen to point out that Big Al’s work is actually over. His “first” didn’t mean the NCAA title. First meant being the best team in the MPSF and the top-ranked in the nation, and Stanford has accomplished that. Everything that Roderigues had believed in has come true.

“We achieved what he thought we could,” Kosty said. “That’s done.”

But that’s hardly it for Big Al. Kosty gathered the team a few days after Al’s passing to discuss the past and the future.

“I told them, we aren’t doing anything for him anymore. We are doing things with him…he’ll still be on the bench.”

Over the next month, every bump, set and spike on the volleyball court may have some more pop, speed or precision—something extra for their beloved coach. He will certainly be with every member of the team going forward, as “AL” has been sewn into the right arm of all the players’ jerseys.

And really, how could anyone forget? He helped turn young players into stars. He helped bring the team closer and believe in themselves. He helped put Stanford volleyball back on the map.

When asked what he would think about if he heard the words “Big Al” in 10 years, the first words that came out of the team captain and All-American Shoji’s mouth pretty much sum it all up for the late Al Roderigues.

“One of my heroes.”

Note: There will be a memorial service for Al Roderigues on Monday, April 19 at 5 p.m. at Stanford’s Memorial Church. The service is open to the public.