SCORECARDhe ref lects on his two indelible
moments. “To have plays that are
still talked about, to be somewhat
relevant 20 years later, I’m
very appreciative,” Dyson says.
“That’s how I’ve contextualized
the whole thing: something
to show from my time in the
National Football League. If not,
we probably wouldn’t be having
this conversation.”After his final game, with the
Panthers during the 2003 season,
Dyson bopped around practice
squads and battled injuries until
retiring in ’05. From there, he says,
“I knew I wanted to be around
the game, and of course naturally
that’s coaching.” He envisioned
returning to the college or pro
ranks, or becoming a high school
athletic director. That was the plan.
For a time Dyson stayed on track.He and LaRosa decided to remain
in central Tennessee, and Kevin
coached and taught gym at
Franklin Road Academy. He
guided the wide receivers and
defensive backs at Glencliff High,
then spent four seasons on the
Independence High staff, including
three as head coach. By late 2012,
though, he was burned out.
Not long after Independencesuffered a lopsided playoff loss,
Dyson got a call asking whether
he might be interested in
becoming an assistant principal at
Stewarts Creek, a new high school
in an adjacent county. “I said, Well,let me take on a new challenge,” he
says. “And I grew to love it.”
Dyson’s new career path surprised
him—and his brother. “I thought
he’d do some kind of coaching
and some kind of a leadership
role where he’d be able to mentor
kids,” says Andre, who is now the
coach at the brothers’ alma mater,
Clearfield High. “I didn’t think it’d
be in a school atmosphere. But he’s
always been a helper or a mentor—
he was that for me.”
A sociology major with a
criminology concentration at
Utah, Kevin has added two
master’s degrees from Nashville’s
Trevecca Nazarene to his
résumé. In 2016 he pursued
a doctorate in education, also
at Trevecca Nazarene, through
an NFL program that provides
financial aid to former players.
Completing the two-year
program ranks near the top of his
“greatest personal achievements,”
he says, right up there with the
Music City Miracle. But there
are obvious differences. As an
NFL player, Dyson says, “My
responsibility was me. I had to make
sure I was eating right, going to bed,
studying film, helping my team win.
I’m trying to be the best version of
myself so I can make a big contract.
Well, being in this seat, you’re
taking care of other peoples’ kids.”IF ANYTHING has surprised Dyson
in his time as an administrator,
it’s the number of hats he has to
wear. “You become an investigative
detective, you become a therapist,
you become a support system, you
become a disciplinarian,” he says—
and that was before COVID-19. But
the payoff is more than worth it: “I
love the challenge. It’s helped me
grow as an individual. I didn’t have
to do anything as taxing as this.
I don’t know what else I could be
doing that’d be as rewarding, either.36 SPORTS ILLUSTRATED | SI.COM
BOB (^) R
OS
ATO
FLASH OF THE TITANS
The Music City Miracle gave
the franchise its first playoff
win in eight years.