CORVALLIS — How in the world, one might wonder, could a person known as “Lightning” fly under the radar?

Well, that’s the nature of the beast for equipment managers in college athletics.

Steve McCoy has filled that position — his official title now is assistant athletic director/equipment operations — for 25 years at Oregon State. Many of the athletes, and probably even a few of the coaches, don’t know his real name.

But everyone knows Lightning.

That’s the nickname McCoy acquired in high school, a sobriquet that has followed him all the way from the Canadian province of Ontario to Corvallis, and several points in between.

Like all equipment managers, McCoy attracts little outside attention as he goes about his responsibilities for Oregon State’s 16 varsity athletic teams. That doesn’t mean he’s not fulfilling an important role.

“Your equipment guy is the leader of the underworld,” says Ken Simonton, the great former OSU tailback who came to Oregon State as a freshman in 1998, McCoy’s first year on the job. “Coaches run almost everything, but the one domain they don’t go in is the locker room.

“A good equipment guy sets the tone and keeps the tension down and the joy up in the locker room.”

At first, McCoy worked primarily with football. But since 2003, when he added Arnold Alcantar as his football equipment coordinator, McCoy has overseen the entire athletic department operation — though with always a strong hand in the football program.

As he begins his 26th year on the job, McCoy is tied for second in seniority in the Pac-12 with Washington State’s Milton Neal, behind only Bart Fullmer of Washington. McCoy has worked with four athletic directors, four football coaches and thousands of athletes during his time at Oregon State, doing his job quietly and expertly with little to no fanfare.

“Traditionally, as an equipment guy, you don’t want to be front and center,” McCoy says as we sit for a recent lengthy interview. “Because if you are, something has probably gone wrong, or it’s going to go wrong.

“I enjoy being under the radar. My work has always been behind the scenes. We have people here who are front-line workers who lead the teams. I have no intention of getting in the way of that. I’m not a coach; I’m not an executive. I’m a staff member and I enjoy my role. I just want to make sure the people around me have the tools they need to be successful.”

Those who have worked with McCoy agree: Mission accomplished.

“I’ve been around a lot of guys who do that job, and he was by far the best,” former OSU coach Dennis Erickson says.

“Lightning was my guy,” says Jack “Jackhammer” Colletto, who played at Oregon State from 2018-22. “I got to know him well. He makes everything run smoothly. Very personable. Been there forever. Done huge amounts for the program. I’m glad you’re writing about him.”

► ◄

McCoy, 57, grew up in Brampton, Ontario, a city of 600,000 located 40 miles from Toronto. He was a hockey player through high school.

“Loved every minute of it,” he says. “Still love the game.”

It was during the high school years that he acquired the moniker that he carries today.

“One year, anatomy was my first class every day,” McCoy says. “I could never make that class on time. I was always five, 10 minutes late. My boys were always teasing me about being late. One day I walk in and one of them says, ‘Oh here he comes, late again, quick as lightning.’ ”

It was a Eureka moment. The nickname faded a bit when he attended Sheridan College in Oakville, Ontario, then resurfaced quite by accident on his first job, as equipment manager of the Toronto Argonauts of the Canadian Football League.

“A high school buddy of mine came to our facility to visit,” McCoy says. “A couple of players were there and they asked him, ‘Who are you looking for?’ He said, ‘Lightning.’ They loved that. And the nickname caught life again.”

It went with him from job to job until he got the position at Oregon State in 1998. Soon after McCoy got to Corvallis, football coach Mike Riley brought him to a team meeting.

“Guys, we have a new equipment manager,” Riley told the players. “I want to introduce you to Lightning.” And from that point, it’s what McCoy was called by everyone, including the athletic director.

“Most people probably don’t know my name,” he says with a smile. “Even Mr. (Scott) Barnes calls me Lightning. Everybody does.”

Victor Butler was a standout defensive end at Oregon State from 2005-08 who would go on to play five NFL seasons. During his senior year, a note was posted before a road trip that if the players had questions, see Arnie Alcantar or Steve McCoy.

Says Alcantar: “Victor comes up to the window and says, ‘Hey Lightning, who’s this Steve McCoy?’ ”

McCoy took sports medicine in college.

“I thought athletic training was going to be my future,” he says.

In 1989, however, he applied for the trainer job with the Argonauts and didn’t get it.

“But the equipment guy hired me as an assistant,” McCoy says. “A friend of mine had done it. He said, ‘You’ll love it.’ I never turned back.”

After three years in Toronto, McCoy took the head equipment manager position with the Hamilton Tiger-Cats. After another 2 1/2 years, he accepted the same position with the Ottawa Rough Riders. Ottawa’s offensive coordinator was Paul Chryst.

“We were both single and became good friends,” McCoy says. “We ran around a little bit together and had some fun.”

In 1997, McCoy worked as equipment manager in Dusselforf, Germany, with the Rhein Fire in NFL Europe. As he was preparing to leave and head home to Ottawa after the season, he got a call from Chryst about a job opening at Oregon State. Chryst had just finished his first season as O-coordinator for Riley.

“I didn’t even know where Corvallis was,” McCoy says. “Paul said, ‘Trust me, you’re going to love it.’ ”

McCoy found he had numerous connections to OSU, all through the CFL. Riley had coached the Winnipeg Blue Bombers to a pair of Grey Cup championships. Chryst had coached in Ottawa, and Beaver assistant coach Jim Gilstrap had been head coach when McCoy worked for the Rough Riders. OSU assistant Greg Newhouse had coached in the CFL, and another assistant, Michael Gray, had played for Riley in Winnipeg.

Bob De Carolis, Oregon State’s athletic director from 2002-15, was an assistant AD in 1998 and in charge of interviewing the three candidates for the equipment manager position.

“They all flew into Portland at about the same time, so we rode together to Corvallis,” De Carolis says. “We get to the Valley Center and soon the three of them are sitting on a couch.”

De Carolis wasn’t aware of McCoy’s CFL ties. Neither, apparently, were the other two candidates.

“It was like a scene from Animal House,” De Carolis says. “Coaches start coming in and saying, ‘Hey, Lightning, how you doing?’ And pretty soon, the other guys are thinking, ‘No way we’re getting this job.’ ”

McCoy was hired.

“From that day forward, we were different,” Riley says. “It was a great thing for the Beavers.”

Oregon State was at the end of a 28-year run of losing football seasons.

Says McCoy: “Bobby D., pulled me aside and said, ‘Listen, we’re going to get this thing straight. You have to understand if football doesn’t succeed, none of us do. Whatever you need, keep me posted, but let’s get this thing going from the ground up.’ So I was babysitting football. I didn’t give the other sports much attention for awhile.”

For five years, McCoy had no assistants.

“It was just me,” he says. “I had a fellow handling the laundry duties, but everything else was me. Every day was long. Every day was challenging. But I loved it. It was special. I was surrounded by people I enjoyed being around.”

In those years, OSU football flew its equipment to road destinations. McCoy handled every part of the trip.

“You worked with the operations folks and planned it out,” he says. “There was a lot to work with the airlines, and you needed trucking at both ends, and you had to work with the stadium representatives, who weren’t quite as accommodating then. Nowadays, there are so many people on both ends to make it easier. Back then, you even had to find the guy with the key to the stadium.

“It was very challenging. My focus was on providing for the players, making sure they had everything they needed. And also, helping with changing the mindset and the culture here. It started to work pretty quick.”

After the 1998 season, Riley left for the San Diego Chargers, and Erickson replaced him. Staff members such as McCoy and trainer Barney Graff were worried they would be out of a job. The first week, Erickson met with them.

“Listen, you guys are staying here,” he said. “We need continuity and consistency. The players need familiar faces here. It begins with you guys.”

Erickson grew to appreciate McCoy on many levels.

“He got along with the players very well,” says Erickson, now retired and living in Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho. “He’s a little bit nonchalant, but has a great personality. My coaches loved him, too.

“Sometimes equipment guys get a little pissy, if the player doesn’t do this or that. The players loved Lightning. That’s the key to everything. He treats them good. If they didn’t do the right thing, he’d chew their ass, but they had great respect for him. He had total control of that part of it.”

Simonton tells a story that relates from his time with the Calgary Stampeders of the CFL.

“If our equipment dude got frustrated at something somebody didn’t do, he’d throw a tantrum,” he says. “He would play ‘Black Betty’ for sometimes two days straight. He could control the music. In his underworld, (equipment managers) have to walk that line.

“Most of us have a hard time relating to our own kids. Imagine having to relate to 18- to 22-year-olds and not skip a beat. You have to be in tune to what they want and connect. This is (the players’) locker room, and you have to live in that life and pull that all together. At Oregon State, Lightning was a master at that.”

After the 2002 season, Erickson bolted for the San Francisco 49ers and, lo and behold, was replaced by Riley.

“Unbelievably serendipitous,” McCoy says. “It was just like old-home week. The two staffs were very different, but both were great. You make adjustments.”

► ◄

The next year, McCoy was able to hire Alcantar as his first assistant. Today, there are three others — Jake Reidenbach, Todd Jacob and Anthony Castro.

“I have four full-time staffers and a lot of student workers, including nine for football,” McCoy says. “They divide up the sports, and I oversee all of them administratively.”

Alcantar is a Corvallis native who had been working as equipment manager at his alma mater, Portland State.

“We were meant for each other,” McCoy says. “Hiring Arnie was the most natural thing you could imagine. He has always been the ultimate go-to guy. He heads up the day-to-day football operation. He handles everything.”

Through two decades, McCoy and Alcantar have worked hand in hand and grown close.

“Lightning isn’t just my boss — we are best friends,” Alcantar says. “Our families do biannual trips together and get together at least once a month for dinner.

“Right from the get-go, he gave me the key to the car (in football). It was just a two-man show back then. He was busy with the other sports and running the budgets. He said, ‘Football is yours; just keep me apprised of what’s going on. At practice, you run the show.’

“He is one of the few head equipment guys who doesn’t head out to football practice anymore. He and Mike had the confidence in me to let me run practice, just me and students managers. Lightning doesn’t micromanage. I love working with him.”

From 2003-14, with Riley at the coaching helm, McCoy fortified Oregon State’s relationship with Nike. The Beaverton-based shoe and apparel company provides all equipment for OSU teams except football helmets (the Beavers are “preferred partners” with Rydell). Oregon State is one of about a dozen of Nike’s “promo” schools, behind Oregon but on par with the likes of Southern Cal, Ohio State, Michigan, Texas and Stanford in terms of getting state-of-the-art gear.

“Lightning was the one who nurtured the original relationship with Nike for the Beavers,” says Riley, now coaching the USFL New Jersey Generals and living in Corvallis during the offseason. “He and Arnie together got it to the point where the Nike people liked them. Whenever they wanted to test something out — for instance, a new shoe or a new glove — they’d go to Lightning and do the interview process with the players about how they liked the product.

“It started what has become a great relationship today. They were the cornerstone to that. Lightning worked at the connections. He worked at the relationships. And he always made it professional. Our kids always felt they were being well-taken care of.”

Riley appreciates what he calls the “great relationship” he had with McCoy.

“He is very diligent,” Riley says. “He is a great listener. He pays attention to what you want, how you want things run, and he follows through with every detail. There was always order and efficiency out of our equipment room.

“He is a fun person to work with. Always a good attitude about his work. When we started, we had to make the most out of what we had.”

Late in the Riley era, Oregon State football changed from flying gear and equipment to driving trucks with it for all road trips except Hawaii. It was more economical and just made sense.

“We came to a partnership with a trucking company,” McCoy says. “They provided a driver and a 25-foot straight truck — pretty modest size for what we do. We put the Beaver logo on the side.”

Over the years, the process has evolved. Oregon State uses Bridgetown Trucking out of Portland, owned by Dave Chalmers. The Beavers hired two professional drivers — Scott Chaffey and Bill Staggs — on personal-service contracts. “Those guys are the real heroes of this thing,” McCoy says.

During the regular season, the Beavers use one tractor trailer.

“A bowl game will take every bit of two,” McCoy says, “and sometimes, we’re thinking about a third.”

Riley left for Nebraska in 2015 and was followed by Gary Andersen from Wisconsin. Andersen lasted only 2 1/2 seasons before his shocking resignation at midseason in 2017, but it was long enough for the coach to get a feel for McCoy’s contributions.

“The guy is fantastic — the ultimate professional,” says Andersen, now living in Utah and running the Utah State NIL collective. “Unbelievably organized, and a great care package for the kids. Equipment guys … it’s a hard job. They know they are doing something important. It’s probably what keeps them doing it for so many years.”

Andersen enjoyed his chats with McCoy.

“I’d get out of my office and go down there and hang out with him, spend a half-hour in the equipment room,” Andersen says with a chuckle. “Sometimes he was probably wondering what the heck I was doing down there. He is a genuine guy, truly cares about everybody around him. He does his best to help make that program big-time. He was steady-eddy every day. If you needed something, he would do everything he could to represent Oregon State the right way.

“Because of his ties with Nike, we had a fantastic opportunity to be on the cutting edge of wearing gear. Lightning was well-respected, not just by Nike but by equipment reps all around the country.”

In 2018, a familiar face came to the OSU coaching position — Jonathan Smith, the quarterback and hero of the the 2001 Fiesta Bowl champions. Smith first got to Corvallis in 1998, the same year as McCoy.

“When I arrived, Jonathan had just gotten here,” McCoy says. “He’s this skinny little walk-on from Pasadena. We had a terrific relationship. He would come in my office quite often and sit down in a chair and we would talk about everything except football.”

Smith did not return requests to talk about McCoy for this article, but I have no doubt he holds great respect for both McCoy and Alcantar.

► ◄

When I ask McCoy for appraisals of the four football head coaches he has worked with, he offers these observations:

“If you are a young guy like I was when I started, Coach Riley is like working with your grandpa. He made it that comfortable. It was unique. It was special. It was like you had no reason to feel intimidated or uncomfortable. He made you want to do a better job, but he made you feel like football is a lot of fun, too. It’s what we do, but there is more to life. He had this ability to just calm everything. He would never take any one thing too seriously. He loved football practice, he loved the Beavers, but it was never life or death. As a staff member, there’s a comfort level. He makes it a family. It literally was a family.

“Coach Erickson was a fierce competitor. I enjoyed watching how he would prepare. He would be cool and calm and having fun through the week, but as we would elevate preparation toward the game, it was time. He demanded a lot out of everybody but had great respect for people. I never felt like he didn’t know I was there. You didn’t have to talk to him every day, but he had a great respect and understanding for what I did, what all of us did. You felt rewarded; you felt valued. And he had an aura about him. He could be an intimidating soul, but when you got to know him, you understood that was not his intention at all. He always had your back.

“There were a few challenges in there, but Coach Andersen really understood everything about what we did. We communicated well. His whole thing was, ‘I want to save these kids from themselves. I don’t want them making 19-year-old mistakes.’ He was concerned about real-life things, (about the players) making good decisions at nighttime or when they leave here. He let us do our job.

“He told me one time, ‘Lightning, everything I do, write it in pencil. I’ll change my mind.’ He would change, but in his defense, it wasn’t just random. He was trying to do things better. He would try to accommodate people. Every once in awhile there would be an abrupt change, like travel schedule or practice. When he left, he sent me a text that was one of the nicest I’ve ever received. Coach Andersen would always take that minute and reflect.

“Jonathan is a little bit of Coach Riley, a little bit of Coach Erickson, and I never worked for Coach (Chris) Petersen, but I think he’s got some of him in him, too. The great thing about him, at the end of the day, he is still Jonathan Smith. As a player, he was just like he is now. He is not this loud rah-rah guy. He is calculated and focused. He will chat with you. It is a very real conversation. He is grounded like that. He makes you feel comfortable. He asks you a question for a reason — because he respects you and wants to hear your answer.”

McCoy has developed relationships at Oregon State outside of football.

“I’m so lucky,” he says. “We have had good people here. There are some nightmare stories about head coaches at other schools. I don’t have anything like that from my time here. Coach (Pat) Casey has treated me so well. Wayne Tinkle — they don’t get any better. And Mitch Canham. I can go around the horn.”

► ◄

Today, McCoy handles the purchasing of all athletic department equipment, is the point person for introduction of new products and apparel and facilitates the orders and delivery of the production between manufacturer and all OSU teams.

“My role has changed over the years,” McCoy says. “But dealing with athletes and coaches, it remains a point where I respect who they are and see what they’re trying to do. In our business, it’s straightforward. Give a little respect and you’ll get it back.

“For the athletes coming in here, they are looking for a little direction. I can help with that. I’m not a coach, so I’m not holding them to that standard. As an equipment manager, you’re asking them to do life skills. Things like be responsible with your equipment, clean up your locker, hand in your laundry at the appropriate time. For a lot of these fellas, I’m the first time they have been on their own like this.

“And they know they can count on me if they make that little mistake. ‘I lost my T-shirt.’ Well here, I can help you with that. There’s a point where you share real-life things and you’re there to pick up the pieces. I’ll explain to them why we do things. We are together every day. It becomes a relationship.”

McCoy has made plenty of those with players through the years. Few appreciate him more than Simonton, now 44 and living in Antioch, Calif. The former OSU star works as a federal investigator for the Department of Labor, runs a non-profit that works with an after-school program and coaches youth track and field.

“You say Lightning, I’m on it,” he says. “He’s my guy. I’ve known Lightning since my freshman year at Oregon State. You need people like that in your life outside of the game of football. “The man’s presence, his personality — that’s a guy who is considered a friend by anybody who has worked with him. I don’t think you will find anybody who has had a bad experience with Lightning. It’s hard to build a solid existence in life without people like that. He’s a guy you can rely on. Just a great dude, man.”

Colletto says he built a strong relationship with McCoy during their five years together at Oregon State, and developed an appreciation for what an equipment guy has to do.

“Everything has to be so organized,” Colletto says. “Equipment guys are a huge piece to what makes practices and games go. And then you are in charge of all the gear and equipment and the travel and all that. It’s a big job. He and Arnie do it well.”

(McCoy made special mention of the Jackhammer: “One of my favorite kids of all time. We captured the excitement of him as a do-it-all kid, but I don’t know if we captured the true essence of Jack Colletto. The kid is smart. One of the best ambassadors we have ever had. There is so much to him, I don’t think everybody got to see all the great layers.”)

Brandon Boice was a four-year letterman and reserve linebacker at Oregon State from 1996-99, playing for Jerry Pettibone, Riley and Erickson. Boice, whose last two years at OSU coincided with McCoy’s first two, is a lieutenant and now in his 23rd year on the Oregon State police force, living in Medford.

“I got to know Lightning pretty dang well, and we have kept in contact since,” Boice says. “Next to the strength coach, the most integral part of the staff is the equipment guy. They make everything go. Lightning was phenomenal with that.

“You won’t find a better person. He is salt of the earth. Steve has charisma, a genuine nature and a kind spirit. He makes everyone he comes in contact with feel like they are his best friend.”

During Boice’s playing days, the Beavers flew their equipment on the same plane as the players.

“I got a glimpse of how hard a job he had,” Boice says. “Everybody is on the plane and they are loading the equipment and working non-stop, and Lightning is in there leading from the front. There was no job he wasn’t willing to do. In that job, people don’t come to you unless they need something. He always made it seem seamless and effortless.

“Every time you see Lightning, he has a big smile on his face. I know I could call him tomorrow and we could have a conversation and pick it up like it’s yesterday. I have a feeling that’s not an anomaly. He finds a way to take time for everyone and make them feel like they matter.”

Alcantar confirms as much.

“James and Jacquizz Rodgers will come to town just to see Lightning,” Alcantar says. “They’ll be gone and the coaches will ask, ‘They were here?’ He has great rapport with the players. Kyle Devan sends him a dozen golf balls every Christmas. When we had a Fiesta Bowl reunion, the first place a lot of the players went was the equipment room to look for Steve.”

De Carolis noticed much the same thing with donors.

“He had that look on his face, that he knew you were going to ask for something,” said de Carolis, now retired and living in Sherwood. “I would say, ‘This is a donor, but if you can’t do anything, don’t worry about it.’ When Mr. (Al) Reser came to the equipment room, Lightning treated him like a king. Whenever you put him with donors, he treated them with respect. They felt like a million dollars walking out of there.

“Lightning was the best with the players, too. He held kids responsible. He was great in the locker room, which people don’t understand that part of the equation. I can’t say enough good words about him. Always great to work with, honest as the day is long. And I loved that he had the knack for getting the equipment you need for the kids without letting the budget get out of hand.”

McCoy and Alcantar attend annual national sports equipment conventions and college football coaches conventions.

“It’s a great time for us to see what’s out there and come back with that education to make decisions on what we’re going to buy,” McCoy says. “There is a lot of purchasing and brand management. You want to stay consistent. You want to make sure your brand is out there in the right way that we’re representing the school the way we want to be represented. The partnerships and sponsorships are crucial. You want to make sure the right products are on the field at the right time.”

But, says Alcantar, there are times when the other assistants are sent to the conference and national conventions.

“He makes it so it’s all one unit,” Alcantar says. “Everybody is always included in what we’re doing. At national conventions, we are always wearing the Oregon State logo. One of the Big Ten equipment managers saw us and said, ‘How come you guys are always together? I can’t get my guys together.’

“But we all enjoy Lightning. He is very loyal. He believes in the brand. He is loyal to Nike and believes in them. He believes in Oregon State and what Coach Riley used to call the ‘Oregon State way.’ It’s like, ‘This is how we are going to do things.’ We are blue-collar, and we work hard.”

► ◄

McCoy has a happy home life. His wife of 24 years, Bernie Sebastian, works as logistics manager for Ventacity Systems in Corvallis. He is extremely proud of step-daughter Alex Dionne, a University of Oregon Law School grad and now an assistant attorney general for the state of Oregon.

“It’s unbelievable,” he says. “I shake my head. To me, she is still eight years old. Right before my eyes, I watched her do her thing. She said, ‘Dad, I need to make a difference.’ She finished No. 7 in her class at U of O law. It’s been an absolute whirlwind. It is hands down for me the best thing I have ever watched.”

Steve and Bernie were married in 1999, when Alex was seven. She got a look right away at how co-workers felt about the guy everyone called “Lightning.” The Beavers played in the Oahu Bowl that year on Christmas Day.

“They had just gotten married in June, and my mom and I were still figuring out what it looks like to be a family,” Dionne says. “Several of his student managers were there and they knew it was our first Christmas as a family. They took Christmas decorations out of the hotel lobby and put them in our room, just to do something special for us.

“It shows how much people care about him. Even that early in his tenure at Oregon State, they were willing to go above and beyond for him. Because that’s what he does for people.”

Through her childhood, McCoy offered plenty of advice when needed, often with a sports analogy.

“I call him my favorite coach,” Dionne says. “He coached me in sports, taught me how to play lacrosse in high school. He played goalie in hockey and I played goalie in lacrosse. When I was going through law school, I called him all the time. He liked to say, ‘We made it through law school.’ I tease him about that, but it’s kind of true. He is the person I called whenever I needed a pep talk.”

When I tell her the theme of this story is “flying under the radar,” Alex says it’s appropriate.

“That’s kind of who he is,” she says. “He never needs the credit. He never needs the spotlight. His mantra is, ‘Be the guy with the solution.’ When I was going into the work force, that was his advice. ‘That’s going to make you invaluable,’ he would say. Because he’s that guy himself.

“Something I’ve picked up from my dad: He thinks about the people not everybody else thinks about. Like, how can we do more for the wives, for the kids, for the people who are supporting the faces we see in the paper every day? I’ve always admired that. It’s something I’ve taken into my adulthood. Not just people on the front page. but it’s the people supporting him them who need to be valued. He is really thoughtful in that way.”

How much longer does McCoy intend to serve as the Beavers’ equipment manager?

“It’s the only thing I’ve done,” he says. “I would like to get 30 years in. Four more years and I will reevaluate. I don’t know if that’s the end. I feel good, but it’s a demanding job.”

► ◄

Readers: what are your thoughts? I would love to hear them in the comments below. On the comments entry screen, only your name is required, your email address and website are optional, and may be left blank.

Follow me on Twitter.

Like me on Facebook.

Find me on Instagram.

Be sure to sign up for my emails.