More Than a Coach: The Heart of Brendan Storrier...

There are coaches whose résumés speak loudly, and then there are coaches whose character speaks even louder when no one is listening.

Brendan Storrier, the former head men's lacrosse coach at Limestone University, firmly belongs in the second category.

Like many in Upstate South Carolina, I recently saw a heartfelt post from his wife, Hollie, as their family prepared to leave the area and begin a new chapter in New York, where Brendan is now the first year head men’s lacrosse coach at St. Bonaventure University. It stirred something in me. Not because of wins or championships, those are already well documented, but because it reminded me of a moment that perfectly captures the kind of man Brendan has always been.

This is not a story about lacrosse success. His record speaks for itself. Several national championships as an assistant coach. One of the most respected offensive minds in NCAA Division II lacrosse. That part of his story has already been told.

This one is about heart.

In the spring of 2021, an unspeakable tragedy struck an Upstate South Carolina family I knew. I will not get into the specifics. What matters is that their world had been shattered, and at the center of it all was a young man who played youth lacrosse.

At the time, I was serving as Vice President for Communications and Marketing at Limestone University and often found myself on the sidelines at men’s lacrosse games, camera in hand, capturing moments for the university. Knowing how much the game meant to this young man, I had an idea. I thought that bringing him along to a Limestone game, letting him stand on the sidelines and see one of the nation’s premier Division II programs up close, might lift his spirits, even if only for a day.

Originally, I shared the idea with Limestone’s head coach at the time. But before the next season arrived, that coach had left the program. Soon after, Brendan Storrier returned to Limestone, this time as head coach, following a stint at Mars Hill.

So, I took the idea to Brendan.

I explained the situation. I asked if the young man could join me on the sidelines during a game while I took photos.

Brendan said “no.”

But not because he didn’t want the young man there.

He said “no” to my idea because he wanted to do more. Much more.

Instead of simply allowing him on the sidelines, Brendan named this young man an honorary captain of the Limestone men’s lacrosse team for a game in April of 2022.

That day, the young man joined the team in the locker room before the game. Brendan had already spoken to his players about the situation. Those players did not hesitate. They welcomed him, surrounded him, and showered him with genuine love. Not forced kindness. Not performative gestures. Real compassion.

He was given a team sweatshirt, the kind only players receive. He walked onto the field with the Saints. He was introduced as a member of the team. Throughout the game, he was part of every huddle. And just like everyone else wearing Limestone blue and gold, he was expected to pay attention. At one point, Brendan even playfully barked at him when his focus drifted and he didn't join the huddle right away during a timeout.

In that moment, he was not a guest.

He was a Saint.

Limestone went on to win the game 18-7. When the final horn sounded, the young man was part of the handshake line. He walked off the field with the team. He joined the post-game locker room celebration.

And then came one more moment.

After every Limestone victory, Brendan awarded a “Player of the Game” honor. The award was a championship belt, the kind you might see in professional wrestling. The player he selected would keep it until the next game.

That day, Brendan handed that belt to our special visitor. 

Throughout that day at Limestone, the young man smiled for hours. He never shed a tear. It was all joy. All excitement. Pure, unfiltered happiness.

His mom and dad, who stood nearby in the fieldhouse and then on the sidelines, did shed a few tears. So did I. They were tears that came between smiles, the kind that come when your heart is overwhelmed by gratitude.

What makes this story even more powerful is this. Brendan never wanted recognition for it. He never shared it publicly. He never sought credit. Until now, this story has never been told.

I am telling it today because I want people to understand what Upstate South Carolina is truly losing.

Yes, the region is losing one of the best college lacrosse coaches in the country. But more importantly, it is losing an incredibly kind man. A man who leads with empathy. A man whose compassion extends far beyond the field. A man who has built a beautiful family with Hollie and carries those same values into every locker room he enters. 

I am so proud to call him my friend.

St. Bonaventure’s gain is our loss.

But we are better because Brendan Storrier was here.

And it has absolutely nothing to do with wins and losses.