Remembering Matt Comstock
PhotosObituaryMatt's PassingServicesRemembrancesBefore Matt played rugby, he established his competitive nature in goal playing hockey for Edina East. He slashed anyone, even teammates, that got in his crease or in his way.
Matt played for The Gustavus Adolphus Rugby Club from 1980 - 1984, the Metro Rugby Club from 1984 - 1992, and then with the Metropolis Rugby Club for the rest of his career. He was a gifted runner and excelled at both 15s and 7s play.
In 15s, Matt was a standout fullback for Metro and Metropolis. His solid play and kicking ability were factors in many victories, and Matt retired from first side rugby for Division 1 Metropolis in the mid 1990s. Defensively, he was noted for inventing the flying squirrel high tackle.
In 7s, Matt was on the 1992 Metro 7s Rugby team that was a National finalist in Alexandria, VA. It was to be the last games Metro Rugby ever played before merging with Minneapolis forming Metropolis. Matt again played on the Metropolis Rugby 7's national finalist team in 1995. The team went an amazing 4-1 losing only to the champions Old Mission Beach Athletic Club (OMBAC).
He was the founder and first coach of the South Metro High School Rugby club. He refereed many matches across the region at the high school, college, and club level.
His Old Boy career saw him playing numerous games at fullback for the Cardinal Rugby Club in the over-45 and over-50-year-old divisions, winning the lion's share of the tournaments entered in Aspen, CO, and Ft. Lauderdale, FL, with Matt recognized as a key player on those championship teams.
Matt also was a standout on several overseas tours to the UK and Australia for Metro, Metropolis and with the Eastside Banshees. Matt was also a guest player for clubs in New Auckland(?), Australia. Most notably, Matt was one of the original tourists to the Old Laurentions (OLs) in Rugby, England in 1989, and a regular tourist on other visits . He always hosted members of the OLs in style when they visited Minneapolis. He made many dear friends with the OLs and will be sorely missed when they visit again in 2011.
Matt's Passing
Matt Comstock, ever the hockey enthusiast, went to the Wild hockey game with his son, Lucas, on Saturday night. He wasn't feeling well, and they left the game early. Matt went to bed and never woke up.There was lots of support at their home on Sunday as family and friends gathered to grieve and reminisce. Matt is the youngest of seven kids, and Deb is one of four sisters.
Services
Friday, April 16Visitation & Memorial Service - 4:00 - 8:00 pm
Washburn-McReavy Edina Chapel
50th & Hwy 100
Attire: Business Casual
Saturday, April 17
Service & Celebration - Noon to dark
Metropolis Pitch, Columbia Park
The service will run from 1-2 p.m. with several people who have known Matt in different elements of his life sharing thoughts and memories. Afterward, we'll celebrate his life with the chance to tell more stories, share memories and reminisce about the fun Matt brought to each of us.
In leiu of flowers, donations may be sent to:
The Matt Comstock Memorial Fund
4501 28th Avenue South
Minneapolis, MN 55406
Remembrances
From Cindy McGlassonWhen Riley (our daughter) was little Matt was the only man other than Andy that she wasn't afraid of - even her uncles were scary to her. We always joked that it must have been the Metropolis hat he was wearing but I think it was more likely his infectious smile. He had the incredible ability to make everyone feel comfortable and welcome no matter the situation - even we non-rugger wives and girl friends. He made everyone feel like they "belonged". I'm stunned that he's gone. When I think of rugby, I think of Matt.
From Dan Volkman
I know that the excuse of a volcano erupting is a pretty lame one to use for not being able to attend Mitchie's memorial, but it's the only one I've got - I did absolutely everything I could to get over to no avail. As you can see by the attached picture, all of us over here had a good drink (or 15) to Mitchie's honour and shared quite a few laughs and stories about him.
Russ Kennedy and I played Saturday and in Matt's honour we both wore one Pachyderm sock and one Metropolis sock. I'm sure the opposition thought we looked like complete idiots, and I sure hope we did.
Our very heartfelt condolences go out to everyone not only from the Metropolis community, but to the whole of Minnesota rugby who knew Matt. He was truly one of a kind.
From Andy Coppernoll
Like most, I too have a couple stories about how Mitchie welcomed me into the arms of Metropolis:
As a super senior at the U of M in the summer of 2001, I started playing 7's with Metropolis. That year it rained nearly every practice (or so it seemed) and we went full contact every time. Needless to say, we spent some time under the pavilion, but probably more time under a pile in the mud. It was easy for a newcomer to feel welcomed to the club, and even easier to know the kind of talent he was following.
Shortly after I had met and been acquainted with everyone, I started hearing some stories. I heard about the battles between Mitchie and Horse. I knew that if you see the grin and the twinkle in his eye, you better watch for the stinkfinger or the cup o sod.
As a fellow elvish deviant, I knew what kind of footprint had been laid, and I could only think one thought . . . and I mean this in the most admirable and respectful way: he is my kind of scum.
He went to every 7's tournament that summer and he really helped us bouys feel like a part of the team. He took my nickname at the time "nuts" and made it into "wingnut". He never needed to blast it around to be heard, and I don't think anyone else has ever called me that, but that is what he called me from that first summer on. I will truly miss him.
Probably the best compliment I ever got was when we were playing paintball at Pedro's land in Holcombe. I kept laying down in the weeds and ambushing people at the last second. Pedro said "hmmm Coppernoll's sneaky... like Mitchie."
Not even close, but you gotta have something to shoot for.
Wingnut
From Travis Karlin
My favorite story about Matt is my first winter up in Minnesota. I had moved up here from Arkansas and was quite keen on being involved in rugby.
That first winter in 2000, we were having practice in Woodbury in the dome in February. I was avoiding driving in winter as a general principle (southern people should not be allowed to drive up here), and was taking the bus to work each day. Mitchie lived 2 blocks from me and offered to give me a ride out to Woodbury for training which I quickly took him up on.
Now I didn't know him very well at this point, he wasn't really an active player in 2000 and I didn't spend much time with the team that fall because of my work obligations, so this was my first experience with "The Jeep." As Eric described it in another message, to say it was rusted out was an understatement.
Here we go, freezing out, middle of winter, and I hop in this old jeep that doesn't look road worthy to ride out to Woodbury (45 minute drive from S. Minneapolis). I hop in and he says, "Be careful of the floor." Thinking there was something I was going to step on, I looked down. Let's just say something that I could step on would have been nice. There I am, looking down at my feet and seeing snow underneath them. The floor was so rusted that I was afraid if I put my feet down, they'd go right through the deck.
The only thing more scary than that, was what Mitchie was wearing. It looked warm, but he had that goofy clown hat with all the tassels on it, a Carhardt jacket with holes in it and some choppers from the 1960s. He gives me this big toothy grin and says, "You ready?"
Sure thing! Heat? What heat? I just moved here from Arkansas, and before that San Diego, why would you need heat in a car in Minnesota? Well, the Jeep does have heat, enough to keep the windows clear, but that's it. And with the wind coming through the floor boards, it was fighting a losing battle.
Needless to say I offered to drive the next time out to Woodbury. I had a great time on our drive with Matt telling me stories of Metropolis and how they came to be. And even better stories of the pranks that they've played on each other over the years. He always had the best stories to tell.
Matt has the biggest heart and was a very special person. I know the OLs will miss his hospitality in 2011, but we'll try to live up to his standard. He is sorely missed already.
With you Matt!
From Jason Johns
Gentlemen;
I, like most of you was completely shocked when I received the news about Combo. I had the privilege of knowing Matt and his family, playing with him on the pitch, and hoisting many a pint together. I WISH I could get up there to the Cities this weekend for this service, but my wife is flying out of town tomorrow for a well-deserved and well-overdue vacation with some girlfriends, thus I am home-bound with our beautiful twin baby girls. If she wasn't, I would be on the Harley first thing tomorrow morning and scooting up there.
Please know that I will be toasting Combo in my own way down here as you are doing so up there. Might even throw on an old Hawaiian shirt and plaid pants while I do so. Enjoy every minute, with everyone, on this big planet of ours boys. And Cheers to Combo!
From Andy Roth, East Side Banshees
We started as combatants.....We ended as friends
My memories of Matt are not of a single incidence. There are far too many on the pitch and at the pub to draw the whole apart. Our paths have not crossed in recent times, his perseverance and passion displayed playing rugby was a benchmark for his life(or was it the other way around)? The Edina prankster with the bad hair, slurpy smile and innovative attire, played and partied like a rock star. It was impressive! His humor and quick wit made him a shoe in for social director and he relished the opportunity, working all the angles. His dedication and desire carried over to everything he did in his life and success followed. The characteristics listed above are honorable, and respected by others. Matt left nothing on the table or on the pitch. He lived life to its fullest.
After years of playing against each other, knocking heads, exchanging cheap pleasantries and breaking the fun meter after the games, we traveled together as teammates this time. The World Cup Tour to the UK was a time where we learned so much about rugby and each other. That trip, as well as the Australian Tour two years later, will never be forgotten. The respect and kindness shown to my wife and I, by Matt and the entire Metro/Metropolis team is a tribute to the organization and was greatly appreciated.
For those who have played the sport of rugby long enough, we are taught that words can be as powerful as actions. Two words, spoken by a mate in the heat of the attack, can mean difference between victory and devastating loss. These two words convey the support which is the basis of the greatest game we have ever played. These two words are; WITH YOU. I am with you, my brother, and I will not forget the times we shared and the lessons learned. I know you are with me as well, and each and every one of your mates, knows the same.
Until we meet again.
From Mike Warwick
This is really sad news about Matt. My family and myself were fortunate enough to host Matt on his first visit to the OLs and my son Neil forged a good and long lasting relationship with him. He hosted Neil on a return trip a few years later.
Whenever we met up after that he always made a point of having a chat and a few beers together. As far as me and my family are concerned he was and will remain an absolute "Good Bloke". There was one little "blott" occurred when him and Neil managed to break the code on the lock to my liquor store and drained it dry, but I tell you what, Matt if you do anymore travelling from where you are at the moment, then feel free to call in and help yourself to as much as you want.
We have all good memories of Matt and our condolences go to his family at this very sad time.
The Warwick Family
From Mike Herron, St. Louis Cardinals RFC
We would all be hard-pressed to find such an example of a teammate who exemplified all that is admirable. A fabulous and unselfish player, Matt put in some unbelievable performances on the pitch. He was truly a star at fullback or any other position he was asked to handle; however he was even more notable off the field as a humble gentleman whose interest lay with others. He will be greatly missed.
Our prayers go out to his family and friends, particularly Pedro Wildenberg and Joe Kiley who always joined the Cardinals together from Minnesota .
From Daniel Ward, St. Louis
I just read on Dan Santoro's Old Boys page about Matt. I can't tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Great teammates and friends are very special people and don't come around too often. From the few times I had the pleasure of seeing and talking to Matt at the Aspen Ruggerfest he struck me as a person with a true zest for life, a great sense of humor and someone who had a passion for all things in his life. I'll miss seeing him around the rugby planet.
Strangely enough, while Metro was here in St. Louis last weekend winning the Ruggerfest I had a conversation with a Metro guy (? red hair and beard, sort of looked like Matt) on the sidelines about Mitchie while your club beat mine in the semi-finals. We shared a couple of stories and laughs not knowing what had transpired the day before.
I know that Pedro, Joe and he were very close and good friends and I can't say I know the depths of the loss you are feeling. All we can do at these bad times in our lives is lean on the comfort of our family and friends, share a story, a memory, a laugh and a smile and try to move on as best we can with heavy hearts. It's never easy, but there is the comfort of knowing that Matt is probably making other people laugh somewhere else and watching over his family and friends.
My thoughts and prayers go out to Matt's family and all of the Metropolis members who will miss him so much.
From Jay Schwingler, college friend and roommate
We had many unforgettable moments together. One of my Favorite stories was told by Matt - about Matt.
During our Junior year while living off campus, He got a call from His Bank and he was overdrawn. He didn't keep very good records of what amount he wrote his checks for - of course... He had written about $1000 in checks that his account couldn't cover. My guess is that it was a whole lot of $20 checks at the Flame and for fast food. He was freaked out. When asked how the bank could let him be so far in the whole without a call, He was politely reminded his Dad was on the Board of Directors of the Bank. Uh oh - The Iceman meltith.
He was Co-Founder of the Gustie Hockey Blue Line Club in 1982, I am told it is still going today,
Over the last ten years we did not see a lot of each other but whenever we did get together, my last words to him every time were "Mitchee, It's late (early), I gotta go to bed and get some sleep."
From Tom Hromadka
Combo loved being a part of this club, when I arrived in 2000 there were a few veterans that I could point out being an integral part of how Metropolis RFC was built - Matt was one of them. He was gracious to welcome the young bucks to Metropolis by burning you on the sideline during practice in that ugly scrumcap and signature grin - he didn't have to say a word... I, along with most of the other new guys were burned many-o-times by a man that was 15 years to their elder.
My favorite memory was during the tour in England, I believe 2004. Mitchie, Horse and Super Joe ran the running of the buoys; Mitchie picked Babiash as his winner (his body is probably still recovering). Throughout the evening, those three led the buoys on a night that hurt to watch and most importantly hurt the stomach from laughing so hard. As we know, Mitchie and the rest of those guys had an eye for the extravagant, and when the three old boys noticed a dusty jar full of rancid pickled eggs in the corner of the bar, they asked the barkeep to formulate a cocktail for the 3 buoys. Now I'm not 100% sure what was in this mixture, but the smell alone made my eyes water, the end result was 3 young men running frantically for the exit to clear out the damaged goods. There wasn't much of a reaction from Mitchie, just that grin of victory that we all had grown accustom to. In the most recent trip to England, the new old boys (I included) tried to match the chaos of that night with new buoys; we made a valiant effort but didn't even come close to the show that he put on in 04.
I was also fortunate enough to play with Mitchie on team Ludicrous since the conception of the best 7's club, ever. While other old boys were competing with guys they had played years with, Mitchie steered away from the norm and decided to be part of 7's dominance with Team Ludicrous. With his boot at fly half and our complicated game plan (2 crash, 2 crash, kick) we were able to secure a berth in the Midwest 7's championship - to which we declined the invitation out of principle. During our second year of Ludicrous, Babiash had ordered quite possibly the worst jerseys ever. This of course made Mitchie ecstatic as the 'ugly' jerseys would match every single piece of attire he had in his fashion arsenal. I hated those jerseys.
Mitchie, it saddens me to see you go so early and unexpected. Thanks for these and all the other great memories...
From Eric Curtin
The year was 1993 and the UW Rugby Club had qualified for the Final four and travelled here to the cities to gain some experience with matches against Metropolis on Saturday and the Pigs on Sunday. Mitchie hosted a bunch of the team. He "graciously" made breakfast - eggs, and all - and everybody was starving. Mixing cruelty with kindness as always, he laced them with more jalapenos than anybody knew what to do with. Most choked it down. The Pigs may have been worse off than anybody with the "end" result.
Six years later in 1999 - my first match for Metropolis. Ready to play, I ended up throwing a few punches and getting sin-binned by the Sir. Turns out the Sir is Mitchie. Years later we are good friends, of course.
2004 - Moving Day - (might be better from Horse - he had the best vantage) - I needed help moving, and of course Mitchie was there to volunteer. He cut himself pretty bad in the process and had made a makeshift bandage for his hand. We finished loading the U-Haul, my trailer and every other vehicle we had and made the procession from the old house to the new house. Mitchie had his rusty old beater Jeep, and the turn signals weren't working, so he was hand-signaling with a bloodied, bandaged hand out of that rusted-out Jeep stuffed with moving junk.
2009 - Cabin building - Again volunteering to help, Mitchie and I drive up to my cabin to do electrical rough-in. Lavin, Pete and Shanny join us later and Mitchie and I drive to town to meet them; five $2.50 mix drinks later, they finally show up. We go back to the cabin and Pete does a full-story nose-dive out of the bay window, landing head-first on a bunch of hard mud and rocks. As fast as Mitchie was at playing a prank under those conditions, he was faster to get down there and play Dr. Comstock to be sure Pete was OK, run through all the tests and such, then to stay with him and ensure he would continue to be OK after that hit on the head.
Matt was a big part of many things I've always looked forward to, and had hoped to continue to look forward to. Future (now-finished) cabin trips. Curryfest - man, Curryfest will never be the same. Nor will Wild games. I'll even miss his 30-minute diatribes about the virtues of burning reclaimed vegetable oil in diesel engines. But I have wonderful memories of those things. And his spirit will be with us in these and other things going forward.
From Terrance Bro
For some reason unknown to me, I have always saved my Green, Blue, Pink and White 7's touring shirt that Matt insisted we all had to purchase from Target back in the mid 90's. I remember him traveling to all of the area stores to snatch up everything they had so the entire team would be decked out with these obnoxious shirts at Lakefront 7's in Milwaukee and the rest of the summer. I actually think I met my wife for the first time in that shirt. As much as this sad news has come as a shock to Rose and myself, I will choose to honor his memory donning this very special shirt full of great memories of rugby past, and celebrate a great person and friend who touched all of our lives.
From Doug Hansen
To say I was shocked is a huge understatement. Lavin called me today to update me on Travis and told me about Mitchie. Mitchie just emailed me last week about making plans for Aspen this year.
Here's an old photo of Mitchie, Skip and I at Bentley's in Aspen, 2004.
From Doug "dougie" Byrnes
he was a big part of my rugby days. i remember when i first started he was always a voice i could depend on...came to depend on. he was very supportive of me and he made my transition into rugby great. had a blast on the roadtrips i took with him. he had a way of treating everybody the same...at least as i saw it. always brought a great spirit with him.
From Greg Stern
I've found myself thinking about my inagural trip overseas - which included two days in France with just Trevor, Eichten, Mitchie and myself. I can always say that I got to enjoy a romantic lunch for two at a sidewalk cafe in Paris with a view of the Eiffel Tower. Of course, I never would actually say that to anyone, because my partner for said lunch was Combo (Trevor had to pick up John at the airport). You can imagine how romantic that was.
There were more laughs (and screams) in that 48 hours in France than I could ever have imagined.
The drive from Calais to Paris, with me, Mitchie & Trevor. We found to our dismay, with the car running on fumes, that nearly every petrol station in every tiny village off the highway was closed, because it was Tuesday (in France, everything is apparently closed on Tuesday). As we stopped at the last one within miles, to find no signs of life anywhere, Mitchie found the car owners manual in the glovebox, and frantically tried to calculate how much gas we had left in the tank- complete with conversion from liters to gallons. As Trevor tried to chase down locals to practice his French and ask where another station might be, Mitchie grabs one of the seemingly abandoned pumps and sticks it into the car. "Hey! It works!" Now filled up, we happily pull back onto the road of the small town to work our way back to the highway- right behind the manure truck going 5km an hour that we spent much of the last 20 minutes unable to get around, which had just caught up to us and passed us again.
Dinner in Paris with the four of us on the plaza of the Sacre-Coeur, complete with the snobby waiter taunting Trevor, refusing to acknowledge him when he spoke in French. He addressed Trevor as "My Lord" all night. We were sneered at by the entire restaruant the whole meal. And the French wonder why we hate them.
At this point, we had all been awake for about 30 hours straight.
Not wanting to waste an opportunity to properly see the sights of Paris on our only day there, Trevor charters a cab at 3am to take us to everything in Paris we hadn't seen yet. We get back to the hotel at 5:30am. Trevor pays the cabby about 500 francs for his troubles.
We are awoken at 11am by the loud knocking and screaming of the chambermaid, who wants us to vacate the room as we slept past checkout time. A dishevled Combo opens the door, tries to come up with a word or two in French to placate her, then just mumbles "Whatever." turns his back on her and goes back to bed, leaving the door open for her to continue berating us.
Trevor has the mother of all hangovers, completely unable to function. Combo takes the keys to the carand drives straight to the Arch de Triumph - the most severe traffic quagmire on the planet. A five-lane-deep roundabout with 8 entryways- with the right of way laws the exact opposite of what they are in Britain. We're stuck in the circle for 20 minutes. Mitchie almost kills a cyclist. Trevor erupts from his coma long enough to bellow in laughter. In fear for my life, I wet myself. It takes Mitchie 2 1/2 hours to find our way out of Paris.
I can't believe that was 12 years ago. Cheers Mitchie, wherever you are.