Proctor takes over as athletics director at Princeton

By Justin Hayes
Published in Sports on July 14, 2016 1:48 PM

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PRINCETON -- The office, a panoramic crate of grass clippings overlooking the Bulldog baseball complex, won't be his much longer.

Bruce Proctor is on the move.

The old ball coach, long tied to Carolina 1-A diamond powerhouse Princeton High School, traded the perch last week for another sweeping post -- this time as director of its athletics program.

Following the June retirement of Marty Gurganus, the school's search for a proper follow-up act ended with Proctor, a man for all seasons who has steadily crafted winners in the sleepy hamlet for nearly 20 years.

For all parties concerned, the timing of the change was perfect.

"I don't want to be the guy over there, sitting on the bench and can't swing the fungo bat," Proctor said, "and the boo-birds are saying the game's passed you by."

"The time was right -- God had a plan."

It just took a while for that plan to flower.

Proctor grew up in adjoining Wilson County, the son of a tobacco farmer and a housewife. His formative years were spent playing dirt-rate pickup with his friends and scratching out roster spots at Beddingfield High School.

While managing four years of fall and spring sports, Proctor played for and learned lessons from a few of the county's most beloved figures -- Ray Barger, Lin Green and Tommy Hawkins -- all of whom left an indelible mark on his life.

"They (his coaches) wanted to win -- it didn't matter if it was checkers -- but at the end of the day, it was... how is that youngin, what is he getting out of it?"

While that notion certainly qualifies as one of the many great tenets he gleaned from the trio, it was perhaps his father that taught him best.

The tutorials were simple and to the point.

"Cut your own wood, it'll heat you twice," he would tell his son.

"Do your best, that'll be sorry enough."

Hand carved with a razor's wit, the off-the-cuff maxims were shake-your-head worthy. Unforgettable, even.

And always, without fail, steeped in common sense.

Like a lot of sons in entering middle life, the East Carolina graduate now finds himself a new-age version of his dad, spinning remixed farm gems to peers, players and students alike.

It all works in Princeton, a place curiously folded between the breakneck bustle of Highway 70 and the nap-inducing, two-lane drift of Dr. Donnie H. Jones Boulevard.

If ever there was a postcard for "Mayberry East", Proctor found it.

But unlike a lot of sons in middle life, he doesn't struggle with identity and place and purpose. Princeton has always been exactly what he wants.

The schoolhouse is a mixture of old values and new brick, of family faces, of community and faith. It's been noted in jest by some that the town -- population 1,252 -- somehow lives in a mysterious time vacuum, and that its problems aren't really problems at all.

They're just rough patches.

Bumps in the road.

Hiccups.

If that's the case, Proctor hopes the trend continues for some time.

"This community has helped my faith, my walk, tremendously," he said. "It's good people, and when you're around good people, good things happen."

Consider its recent run through the record books.

Since 2012, Princeton has performed on a prolific level in Carolina 1-A, east regional and state-affiliated play, accumulating 17 bits of championship hardware in the process. And by Proctor's humble estimate, the existing efficiency model isn't in need of tremendous change -- or any, for that matter.

"I don't see where there has to be any major overhaul, and that's a testament to him (Gurganus) -- the job he did," Proctor said. "My biggest goal is to make coaching easier... that gives the kids the best experience they can possibly have."

Just as many have enjoyed in Princeton.