Ron Masanz, MSUM track legend who valued every athlete, dies at 97
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Ron Masanz, the longtime Minnesota State Moorhead track and field coach who built a dynasty on the principle that every athlete, from star to newcomer, deserved equal attention, died Monday at 97 in Park Rapids. His passing marks the end of an era for the Dragons program, where Masanz spent decades shaping not just runners and throwers, but lives.
Larry Scott, the former sports information director at MSUM who worked closely with Masanz, reflected on the coach's philosophy Friday. "To him, depth was so important," Scott said. "We had 30 to 40 guys on our men's track team, which was remarkable — more than anyone else in the league. But he treated everyone, including those with probably lesser talent, equally as well as the stars." That approach built a family atmosphere that kept former athletes coming back for decades.
Masanz took over the track program in 1968 after arriving at what was then Moorhead State Teachers College in 1967 as an assistant coach for both track and football. A native of South St. Paul, he lettered in football at the University of Minnesota before serving as a Marine and later coaching and teaching in Graceville and Morris, Minnesota. Under his leadership, the Dragons became a powerhouse. From 1970 to 1981, MSUM won 50 straight home meets. The team captured the 1972 Northern Intercollegiate Conference outdoor title — its first since 1946 — and, after a near four-year retirement, Masanz returned in 1990 to lead the Dragons to both indoor and outdoor NIC championships.
His teams produced a staggering 322 individual conference championships, 49 All-Americans, 69 national placers, and three national championships. Inducted into the MSUM Athletics Hall of Fame in 1991, the NSIC Hall of Fame in 2000, and the NAIA Hall of Fame in 1985, Masanz also represented the NAIA at the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles.
One of his most enduring contributions was the push for a modern track surface. In the mid-1970s, the program relied on a 20-year-old cinder track that required cinders hauled from as far as 300 miles. Masanz saw an opportunity when Minnesota Gov. Wendell Anderson, a former Gopher athlete himself, visited Moorhead. "And somehow Ronnie hooked up with him and they took him jogging. Ronnie purposely took him to Nemzek (Hall) and he had to make sure the track was in less than ideal condition," Scott recalled. When Anderson noticed the rough surface, Masanz seized the moment. "'See, this is all we got,'" Scott remembered Masanz saying. The strategy worked. In 1975, the university and state allocated $115,000 for a new track. The outdoor track at MSUM now bears Masanz's name, a permanent tribute to his tenacity.
MSUM athletic director Chad Markuson praised Masanz's legacy. "Coach Masanz was a true Dragon in every sense of the word. His passion for MSUM, his belief in student-athletes, and the countless lives he impacted will never be forgotten," Markuson said in a statement. "His influence reached far beyond the track and will continue to live on through the generations of Dragon student-athletes he helped shape."
Scott noted the lasting respect Masanz commanded. "I thought that was kind of a really good mark of a coach if they still respect you that much," Scott said. "He was a good man. I liked him a lot."
Masanz's funeral will be held at 11 a.m. Monday, Aug. 31, at St. Peter the Apostle Catholic Church in Park Rapids, with visitation starting at 10 a.m. Burial will follow at 3:30 p.m. at St. Joseph's Catholic Cemetery in Moorhead. The Dragons track program he built will carry his spirit forward, one athlete at a time.
Article commentary
Ron Masanz's death at 97 closes a chapter not just for Minnesota State Moorhead, but for a philosophy of coaching that often gets lost in the win-at-all-costs era of college athletics. His approach — treating every member of a 40-person roster with the same dignity as the top performer — stands as a quiet counterpoint to the star-driven culture that dominates much of modern sports. In an age where Division II programs constantly fight for funding and attention, Masanz proved that depth and inclusivity can produce championship results. His 50 consecutive home meet victories and multiple conference titles demonstrate that building a team around collective effort, rather than a handful of stars, is a viable path to success. The numbers back it up: 322 individual conference champions, 49 All-Americans, and three national champions. But the more telling metric is the loyalty of his former athletes. Scott's observation that many stayed in touch long after their competitive days reflects a deeper bond that transcends wins and losses. Masanz's ability to leverage a simple jog with a governor to secure a new track is a masterclass in advocacy. The $115,000 request in 1975 was a significant sum for a state college, yet he turned a casual run into a lobbying opportunity. That blend of charm, persistence, and institutional knowledge is a skill few coaches master. It also underscores how much of athletic success depends on infrastructure — a lesson that resonates today as many programs still struggle with aging facilities. His career also highlights the shifting landscape of college athletics. Masanz began coaching when the NAIA and small-college conferences were the primary stage for non-Division I programs. He later transitioned into the NSIC, and his teams faced Big Ten and Big 8 opponents in smaller meets, a reminder of a time when competitive gaps were narrower. The 1984 Olympics assignment as an NAIA representative placed him on a global stage, bridging the local and the international. Equally notable is his longevity. Coaching at 97, even in a retired capacity, speaks to a man who never stopped caring about the sport and the people in it. The outdoor track named after him is a physical legacy, but the real one is the thousands of athletes who learned that their value wasn't measured solely by their race times. In a world increasingly obsessed with metrics, Masanz's insistence on equal respect for all is a quiet but powerful lesson. He reminded us that championships are built on the foundation of every single person who shows up, not just the ones who cross the finish line first.