In a little over a week, it’ll be three years since legendary UL baseball coach Tony Robichaux died of heart disease at the age of 57.
Having such a high-profile father means reliving the impact he had on his former players, fan base and baseball community with both appreciation and pride on a regular basis.
For Justin and Austin Robichaux, however, never have they truly felt more like Tony Robichaux’s sons than this past season.
On Saturday in Natchitoches, Robichaux’s family and Ragin’ Cajuns fans will be celebrating Robichaux’s induction into the Louisiana Sports Hall of Fame.
It’s the shining conclusion to a school year of recognition for the Robichaux family. In October, he was inducted into the UL Athletic Hall of Fame, followed by national spotlight of the American Baseball Coaches Association Hall of Fame in Chicago in early January.
But along with their mother, Colleen, this will be the first such ceremony for Austin and Justin coming off their initial seasons as coaches themselves.
'It was God’s plan'
Austin begin work as Lafayette Christian’s head baseball coach in January, while Justin surprised many by becoming UL softball’s pitching coach in August with Colleen back in the game as well as the softball program’s Centerfield Club coordinator.
“That was extremely important,” Austin said of the duo’s leap into coaching. “We both deep down knew it was going to happen. It’s in the blood. It’s literally all we know. It was just a matter of time when it was going to happen.
“It wasn’t our plan. It was God’s plan. The timing is just crazy for it to happen at the timing of him getting all of these accolades. It makes it (ceremonies) a cooler experience now.”
Both were subjected to their father’s respected teachings on life and baseball as far back as they can remember. Both have read their dad’s book that essentially summarized his entire belief system and both have seen all the videos and heard his podcasts.
But making the leap from working in the private sector to working with young athletes to actually becoming coaches was a huge step.
Replaying videos or reading books can be productive, but deep down, both Robichaux sons knew the best way to continue their father’s missions on and off the field was to follow in his footsteps as coaches.
“For it (La. Sports Hall induction) to be around Father’s Day and to know what we’re doing is continuing to pass the baton forward, I know he would be very proud,” Justin said. “It’s an honor and a privilege for our family to always be a part of this stuff.
“To know that I’m doing what I’m doing and Austin is doing what he’s doing, I think there’s somebody smiling down on us right now.”
It only took Justin one game at Lamson Park for him to comprehend how close it got him to his father.
“Every time before the national anthem, I say a very specific prayer, so I get to almost take the field with him every time we play a game,” Justin explained. “Every game we played this year, I took the field with him, which was a cool experience for me.”
Also making the first year as coaches more special is the realization it wasn’t of their doing.
“If you would have told him (Justin) he’d be in softball and I’d be head (baseball) coach, we’d both think you’re crazy,” Austin said. “Honestly on paper, he’s more of a head coach and I’m more of the assistant pitching coach.”
Indeed, Austin is a quiet type who is more comfortable behind the scenes, while Justin can sound just like his father at times when you put a microphone in his hands.
“We both thought that, but God didn’t think that,” Austin added. “He’s the assistant now in a different sport and I’m the head coach. It was a learning process, but I think we’re both better coaches because of it now.”
Mom cherished the family being back in the game.
"When you're a coach's wife and your spouse dies, it's different," Colleen explained. "We've been doing baseball since 1986, so what do I do now?
"For me, it was just awesome this year. Going to the regional with the (Cajuns) softball team and following LCA's season, it's what I was used to for so many years. It really helped with my healing. Plus, they both really look like Tony when they're out on the field, especially Justin. That really helped me."
Their father never promised them life would be a pleasure cruise, and not everything about their first year as coaches was easy.
Austin, 29, had been out of baseball for four years since his four-year minor league baseball career ended in 2017. Suddenly, he’s the head coach of a high school baseball program that reached the state semifinals the year before.
Meanwhile, Justin was completely changing sports to softball having never coached girls in his life.
“I didn’t forecast this at all to be honest,” he said. “When I got done playing, I never envisioned myself being a softball coach.
“Luckily, I got the opportunity for (UL softball coach) Gerry (Glasco) to give me a call and I’m very thankful for my family for allowing me to do this.”
Justin quickly learned he wasn’t a fish out of water moving over to Lamson Park.
For one, he and his wife, Leigh Ann, have two daughters – Evelyn, 7, and Roslyn, 4.
“When I was giving (hitting) lessons to girls, something clicked,” he said. “I had never worked with girls before, but something clicked.”
'A pretty cool childhood'
The life of a coach comes with sacrifices.
Prior to his death, Tony Robichaux sometimes agonized over missing his son pitching in a state championship game because he was coaching the Cajuns.
Austin and Justin, however, recall having more access to the players and the field than all their friends did and they got to follow Dad around riding on the bus.
“I think one of the reason I feel very blessed when I wake up in the morning is I had a pretty cool childhood,” said Justin, who graduated from UL in 2011. “It came with a lot of sacrifices, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. I think Austin would probably tell you the same thing.”
Those days of Dad giving them white towels to use as blankets on long bus rides quickly came back to Justin during a short ride home from the Mardi Gras Classic earlier this year.
“Roslyn came up (after beating Portland) and said, ‘Can I ride the bus?’ and I said, ‘Yes absolutely,’” Justin recalls. “There I was in the same seat my dad always sat in when you walk up to the left right there with Roslyn on the right. She ends up sleeping and I took a picture and sent it to my mom. It was like, ‘Holy flashbacks, man.’
“It’s been pretty cool.”
For the first time since their father’s tragic death on July 3, 2019, life kind of almost seemed normal again.
“Me and him riding that bus all over the country — sitting in the front with my dad were some of the best times we ever had,” Austin concurs. “And now, he gets that.”
When Justin was a youngster, his guy was former UL rightfielder Kevin Cantrelle.
“When I was their age, I looked at those dudes like they had a Superman cape on,” Justin said. “I used to make T-shirts and put number 5 on them. I just wanted to emulate everything about Kevin Cantrelle.”
For Roslyn, it’s catcher Sophie Piskos and with Evelyn, it’s outfielder Sam Graeter.
“I know they’re going to appreciate this in the future when they look back on these times,” Justin added. “It’s a great experience, man.”
While some likely still wonder how Justin will fare long-term as a softball pitching coach — despite UL’s staff finishing 21st nationally in ERA and 15th in strikeout-to-walk ratio — younger brother Austin never had a doubt.
“There was stuff he was going to have to learn,” Austin said. “By no means does he have it all figured out. But at the end of the day, he knows how to pitch. He reads the hitter – he reads their hands, he reads their body and then pitches off of that. They will tell you what they’re trying to do as a hitter and he sees that.
“All he needs now is to make sure his girls can execute and it’s game over.”
'Work while you wait'
After a hot start, Robichaux’s pitching staff hit a wall before finishing strong. There were some rough days of looking in the mirror wondering how it would all work out.
“I set pretty harsh standards on myself,” Justin said. “At times, it was like drinking out of a fire hose, I’m not going to lie. At times, I was in my element. At times, I loved it and at times, I didn’t know what was up and what was down.”
Each time, all he knew to do was lean on his dad’s most famous of all sayings.
“Just got goosebumps thinking about it,” Justin said looking down at the red wristband with the words, "Work while you wait."
“Work while you wait will be engrained in my head forever. So anytime I hit a wall, I’ve got to work, I’ve got to work, I’ve got to work … almost like sickly sometimes.”
When head coach Gerry Glasco got COVID at the tail end of the season, though, Justin was more than ready to handle the press conferences.
For Austin, the communication part of his new coaching gig was more of a challenge.
More like his father, Austin is quiet and not comfortable being on the field much and arguing with umpires.
“You don’t have very many pitching head coaches,” he explained. “They’re usually offensive or defensive based and they hire pitching coaches. It’s a weird situation for (LCA) parents here because they saw (former coach) Greg (Fontenot) who was extremely vocal and he’s out on the field and he’s arguing with umpires.
"I think I need to do a better job of explaining that just because you don’t see that doesn’t mean I’m not coaching. It’s just not who I am, but I’m still controlling the situation.”
Like his older brother, Austin leaned on his father’s wisdom when times got tough.
“When those lows hit, that’s when I’d go deep into the filing cabinet and find some book that I have that I found in his room that he scribbled in, or just go back and watch videos of him on YouTube,” Austin revealed. “Or if it’s just literally thinking, what would he have done in this situation?
“The downs are definitely when that pops up more, but I think that’s what made me a better coach and I think that’s what is going to continue to make me a better coach. It makes the downs maybe not the same kind of downs as another coach, because I feel like I’m able to handle it a little better because of him.”
And beginning their careers as coaches at the same time also had its advantages.
“The amount of stuff he’s helped me with, the list goes on and on,” Austin said of Justin. “It’s almost like talking to my dad in a sense. He’s got a lot of that same knowledge that my Dad had. He’s older. For me, it’s almost like reaching out to my dad a little bit.
“But there’s been a couple times that I had to tell him some things that he didn’t want to hear. Then weeks later, he called back thanking me because nobody else was going to tell him, because the only other person that would have was our dad.”