LSU Legend Skip Bertman Honored: 'Hold the Rope'
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On Tuesday night, the Pete Maravich Assembly Center became a stage for remembrance, as hundreds of family, friends, and former players gathered to honor Skip Bertman, the iconic LSU baseball coach and athletic director who passed away on August 14 at 88. The celebration of life was a mosaic of emotions—stories, love, tears, and plenty of laughter. A small white rope, handed to each attendee, served as a tangible reminder of Bertman's mantra: 'Hold the rope.' This phrase, deeply embedded in his coaching philosophy, symbolized the unwavering trust and belief he instilled in his players to rely on one another.
The arena was filled with familiar faces, including Louisiana Governor Jeff Landry, Mayor-President Sid Edwards, and Kathy Miles, wife of former football coach Les Miles, whom Bertman hired. Many of Bertman's former players, now grayer and older, returned to honor the man who built what remains college baseball's most enduring modern dynasty. Five of his players—Rick Greene, Todd Walker, Warren Morris, Patrick Coogan, and Brad Cresse—carried the five College World Series championship trophies won under Bertman's tenure, evoking vivid memories of the team's greatest moments.
Current LSU baseball coach Jay Johnson took the podium, backed by white and gold versions of Bertman's No. 15 jersey. 'It's all of our jobs to hold the rope,' Johnson said. 'I love you, coach.' Rabbi Sarah Smiley of the United Jewish Congregation of Baton Rouge urged the audience to turn their memories into action, ensuring Bertman's legacy continues.
Herb Vincent, SEC associate commissioner and LSU graduate, highlighted Bertman's transformative impact on baseball in the Southeastern Conference. 'He made baseball great,' Vincent said. 'No longer did baseball have to be a loss leader in the athletic departments across the Southeastern Conference. Athletic directors saw if you invested in facilities and invested people, they too could have winning teams, they too could have big crowds, they too could have championships.' Bertman's Tigers were not the first SEC team to win the College World Series—Georgia did that in 1990—but since then, half of the CWS titles have been claimed by SEC teams, with eight of those trophies returning to Baton Rouge. 'Skip Bertman's fingerprints are all over that remarkable success,' Vincent added. 'Skip was one of the most influential people in the history of the SEC.'
Ben McDonald, arguably Bertman's greatest player, shared a story illustrating the coach's uncanny foresight. As a freshman, McDonald was charting a game when Paul Byrd, a future major leaguer, took the mound. Bertman predicted Byrd would struggle in the first inning: 'He said, Paul Byrd is going to give up two runs in the first inning. He'll walk the first batter. The next guy's going to get a base hit. He'll strike a guy out, but then somehow the runners are going to end up at second and third with two outs. Then they'll get a base hit and two runs will score.' According to McDonald, the sequence unfolded exactly as Bertman had scripted. 'I just threw the clipboard up in the air,' McDonald said. 'I was standing there looking at coach and he looks at me and says, McDonald. Thirty years. I've seen it all … twice.'
Current LSU athletic director Verge Ausberry, who served as assistant AD during Bertman's tenure from 2001 to 2008, recalled Bertman's nickname around the department: 'The Chosen One,' a nod to his success and Jewish heritage. At the 2002 LSU football game against Kentucky—the famous 'Bluegrass Miracle' where Marcus Randall threw a 75-yard Hail Mary to Devery Henderson—Bertman, his wife Sandy, Ausberry, and assistant AD Dan Radakovich were in a suite above the end zone where Henderson scored. 'Dan and I are hugging each other, jumping up and down,' Ausberry said. 'Skip is standing there saying, I am the chosen one! We looked at each other and said, Wow, he must be the chosen one.'
Bertman's three surviving daughters—Lori, Jodi, and Jan—along with Ezra Pate, son of his late daughter Lisa, closed the evening. Lori Bertman spoke for the family, recounting a call she received from tennis legend Billie Jean King after her father's passing. 'She called me and said, Your father was a true force, Lori. A true force,' Lori said. 'Thank you for making us feel safe and loved, and teaching us that winning was about much more than baseball.' As they left the podium, they were still holding the rope, a fitting end to a night that celebrated a man who changed LSU baseball forever.
Article commentary
The celebration of Skip Bertman's life was a masterclass in how a community honors a transformative figure. It was not merely a memorial; it was a reaffirmation of the values he championed—trust, loyalty, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. The 'Hold the rope' mantra, turned into a tangible keepsake, served as a powerful symbol of the collective bond Bertman forged among his players, staff, and fans. The event's structure, featuring former players carrying CWS trophies and speakers from diverse backgrounds, underscored the breadth of his influence. Bertman's impact on college baseball cannot be overstated. When he arrived at LSU, the sport was often viewed as a secondary revenue generator in athletic departments. His success—five national championships in 11 years—forced administrators across the SEC to reconsider their priorities. Herb Vincent's observation that Bertman single-handedly transformed baseball from a 'loss leader' into a cornerstone of athletic programs is not hyperbole. The SEC's dominance in the College World Series, which has seen half of the titles since 1990 go to conference teams, directly traces back to Bertman's blueprint. This legacy is not just about winning; it is about institutional change. Yet the evening also revealed a deeply personal side. The stories told by Ben McDonald and Verge Ausberry highlighted Bertman's uncanny ability to predict outcomes and his playful self-awareness—the 'Chosen One' nickname embraced with humor and humility. The family's closing remarks, particularly Lori Bertman's tribute to her father's capacity to make people feel safe and loved, reminded everyone that behind the championships was a man who prioritized relationships. The call from Billie Jean King, an icon of another sport, further illustrated the reach of his character. The event also served as a reflection on mortality and legacy. The image of former players, grayer and older, yet still drawn together by a common bond, speaks to the enduring power of Bertman's mentorship. In an era where sports often focus on transactional relationships, Bertman's approach was transformational. He didn't just build a baseball program; he built a family. The 'Hold the rope' philosophy is now carried forward by his players, who have become coaches, broadcasters, and community leaders. Current LSU coach Jay Johnson's pledge to 'hold the rope' signals that the ethos will continue within the program. However, the commentary also invites a wider conversation about the role of sports figures in shaping cultural identity. Bertman's Jewish heritage and his nickname 'The Chosen One' added a layer of complexity, highlighting how individual backgrounds can intersect with public personas. The celebration was inclusive, with Rabbi Sarah Smiley's call to action bridging religious and secular dimensions. This event was not just a farewell; it was a call to perpetuate the values Bertman embodied. The fact that the family left the stage still holding the rope suggests that the legacy is not confined to a moment but is a continuing journey. For LSU, for the SEC, and for college baseball, Bertman's story is far from over.