I had heard Van's name in discussion several times before I had even competed in my first official high school track race. I didn't compete for his team, but a public school down the road. While he never coached me directly (although he did proctor a few workouts for me), his effect on my running is very evident.
Van was always a storyteller. His prose was so deft and he himself so charismatic, that it was nearly impossible not to listen to what he had to say.
A few years ago, Van had informed me that he had recently had dinner with a very well-known coach (who I will leave anonymous here). A couple of weeks later, I was going to be competing in a track meet that the unnamed coach would be attending with his team. I figured Van was exaggerating. How could he know such a high-profile coach? The day of the meet arrived and I ran into Van exhibiting his usual behavior; James Dean'ing it on the railing, cheering the entire sport of running on. As I walked up to speak with him, I noticed he was wearing the unnamed team's gear. In my mind, I was honestly kind of embarrassed for him. He asked me what I was racing, wished me good luck and I headed off to warm up. During the entire race I could distinguish Van's voice best from a slew of others cheering me and the other runners in the race on. It meant a lot to me that it mattered to him how I performed. I ended up setting a PR and having a great race. After the race, Van hunted me down and we discussed how the race went and what I should focus on to improve throughout the rest of the season. About five minutes into the conversation I hear "Hey Van, we're headed to dinner. You coming?" come from behind where Van and I were standing. I turned around and it was none other than the aforementioned, (anonymous) super well-known coach with some of his stud athletes in tow. Van congratulated me on a job well done, wished me luck on the rest of the season and bid me adieu.
Needless to say, I never doubted Van again.