SPORTS
By Mitch Lehman

There exist more photos of the Loch Ness monster than San Marino High School teacher and junior varsity volleyball Coach Jon Imamura, so the candid shot above should be forgiven for its lack of quality and instead praised for its existence.
So averse to publicity and self-promotion is the beloved “Mr. I” that more than a decade ago, The Tribune had to send a student on a covert mission in order to obtain another subpar side-view of the man who thirty-seven years ago first appeared on campus to teach biology, and on Tuesday evening coached his last game after a quarter century with the boys and twenty-three seasons with the girls.
Proving that a champion doesn’t always go out a winner, La Cañada spoiled Mr. I’s swansong as they stole a hard-fought, three-set victory with a 15-13 win in the deciding game. This weekend will mark Imamura’s final coaching stint when he takes the Titans to battle in the Crescenta Valley Invitational Tournament, but Tuesday’s was his final appearance in Dingus Memorial Fieldhouse.
Typical of his self-deprecating demeanor, Imamura bristled at the thought of any mention in the local weekly.
“I’d prefer you do a story about the varsity [volleyball] team and how they have turned things around, or about how the baseball team has come back,” Imamura said good-naturedly.
It was only when he was threatened with the publication of all of Tuesday’s photos did he consent to a few words.
Eschewing any formal record-keeping whatsoever, Imamura hasn’t a clue as to his teams’ lifetime winning percentages, acknowledging that he has “won more league championships with the guys. And just a few with the girls, thanks to La Cañada,” which has been a volleyball powerhouse for decades. He conservatively estimated a 70-75% win percentage, which anyone knows isn’t even close – in reality, it’s much higher.
Though he claimed to be in possession of “a failing memory,” (again, not true) Imamura recalled with fondness two incidents which elicited the familiar smile that creases his face when relaying moments of which he is especially proud.
“We were playing Chaminade in a match in the La Cañada Tournament a few years ago,” Imamura said. “We had won the first game and I had put the freshmen in for the second. Chaminade was ahead 13-3 (you needed 15 to win) and they started talking trash. The sophomores were foaming at the mouth to get in the game so I did a six-man substitution. Our starters, among them Steven Tu. Michael Hsiao and Elliott Henry, shut them out the rest of the way and we won 15-13.”
Imamura therewith referenced what can only be called a coaching anomaly: Flying in the face of all common sense, he routinely substituted his entire starting lineup at the end of the first game with players who have been sitting on the bench – and makes it work.
“I also remember our boys were playing at Temple City for a league championship,” he continues. “We lost the first game and were losing the second when my assistant coach, Heidi Rosenthal (a student, by the way), shows up during our last timeout. We came back from being down 13-8 to win the game, the match and the title. Afterwards, [longtime volleyball official] Wendy Perry pulled me aside and asked what I had said to the guys to bring on such an amazing turnaround. I just pointed to Heidi and said ‘our assistant coach showed up.’ Wendy understood immediately.”
As did every young person who had the good fortune to cross his path. Among Imamura’s most ingenious creations in a life defined by them is what is lovingly known throughout the community simply as ‘Sat Night,’ a weekly open gym for anyone fit enough to walk in the door – and in the case of this reporter who has participated in a couple, even for those who are not. Attendance is mandatory, not because Imamura would ever construct an artificial standard for his athletes, but because it is so much fun. Players of both genders and all ages choose up teams and play until they can’t laugh any more.
He was also fond of chaperoning large groups of his players to visit local college campuses and witness first-hand top-level matches featuring the premiere volleyball teams in the nation. The more-than-casual observer might notice that he was extremely likely to do so on the night of a big dance, Homecoming or prom, providing an alternate activity for those who might otherwise sit at home.
While reticent to talk about himself, others have plenty to say about the man who will continue his teaching career for at least a couple more years.
“Jon is someone who has coached a lot of years for all the right reasons,” said SMHS Principal Loren Kleinrock. “His primary emphasis has always been developing his players’ character, teaching them about life and making sure they understand the true value of competition. Winning was always secondary to Jon, but nonetheless, his teams typically dominated the Rio Hondo League for the majority of the years he has coached. Although by his choice he never took the varsity position, Jon has had a tremendous impact on the whole program due to his extraordinary skill at developing players at the junior varsity level. His incredible contribution to the volleyball program will be missed and he has left a legacy for coaches in all sports at all levels.”
“Jon treats his players as if they are his children and he is their firm but loving parent,” said Scott Cameron, with whom he stepped onto the San Marino High School campus for the very first time thirty-seven years ago and for whom Imamura coached those many years. “He cares about the total player, student and athlete. Walk into his biology classroom and you will see something like fifty volleyball trophies his teams have won over the last twenty-five years. That is very impressive indeed. I don’t think there has been a junior varsity volleyball coach, for girls or boys, who has been more successful, consistent, and caring. Jon has been the best friend I could ever imagine having in teaching science and coaching volleyball. His dedication and ethical fiber are trademarks known by all who have coached with him or played for him. San Marino High School will miss his many unsung contributions.”
Aside from the fact that his team suffered a rare loss, Imamura’s final game was unrecognizable from all those which preceded. Shoulder bag strapped across his back, poised in his customary crouched position in front of the bench, Mr. I shouted well-timed encouragement with only a handful in the bleachers aware this contest was to be his last.
And without the fanfare he so desperately shunned, it was over. The final brushstrokes tenderly applied to an invisible masterpiece crafted across the canvas of a life.