Buzz Lagos coaches for more than kicks

Buzz Lagos concluded an informal tour of Higher Ground Academy, a St. Paul charter school where he teaches math and coaches soccer, at the coaches office.

The placard outside the room door reads "Storage 209." Inside, used soccer balls sit in a bag on the floor. Pictures of the school's varsity and junior varsity, teams made up primarily of Somali and Oromo students, hang on the wall. Toward the back is Lagos' desk, hardly necessary considering the way he pounds the pavement to run his fledgling program.

Lagos, 65, came to Higher Ground Academy in September 2005, during his final season coaching the Minnesota Thunder pro soccer team. A soccer program already existed, one that he said "promised more than it delivered." Rebuilding the program forced Lagos to the front lines of finances, transportation, coaching and scheduling.

This season offered a few modest milestones. The team trained before Labor Day and Lagos upheld his entire schedule of games and scrimmages -- mostly against Minnesota State High School League teams. And now, in his fifth season and the team with a 5-8-1 record, Lagos believes the players recognize what has been built.

"They are already looking forward to next season," Lagos said.

This is Lagos' second stint coaching at a St. Paul high school. His first job at St. Paul Academy would seem like the other end of the spectrum. Lagos won state championships at SPA. He never needed to carry a "shoe bag" for his players to borrow cleats on game day, something he did the first few seasons at Higher Ground Academy.

But Lagos has always been a soccer servant. He and his wife, Sarah, brought blankets to games for players at St. Paul Academy. While coaching the Thunder -- where he led the franchise to the 1999 A-League title -- Lagos was known to wash the team's laundry. He does the wash at Higher Ground Academy, too. He picks up the cones after practice. And he picks up players from various parts of St. Paul and Minneapolis in a 15-seat van and drives them to games.

"As a captain, I tell my players that this guy is doing us a favor," senior Kassim Tilmo said. "And the best thing we can give him is respect. He's not doing this for himself."

Tilmo, who has been with the team since Lagos arrived, said the coach's organization has led to greater player interest. The situation is far from ideal, however. Lagos said he has "six or seven" committed players and another dozen who orbit them.

"Every game is an adventure," Lagos said.

Earlier this season the van keys went missing on game day. Unable to reach assistant coach Farah Osman, Lagos invented Plan B. He called his son, Dominic, for help with transportation and received "special permission" from Sarah to borrow her Honda Pilot. The team made the game with 10 minutes to spare.

"I still ask him that question, 'What are you doing here?'" said Osman, a 2003 graduate of Minneapolis Washburn. "But he loves the kids and loves the sport. He leads and follows at the same time. That respect and trust, you can't get that anyplace."

Such attributes cannot be bought, but it takes money to fund a soccer program. Enter Lagos, who raised about $40,000 the first few years. He now brings in about $20,000 annually, a task made tougher by fewer large donations. Lagos has successfully reached out to families he knew from his days at St. Paul Academy.

"You just do whatever it takes to make it work," Lagos said. "I know we're changing lives here. More so than anywhere else I could possibly be."