ST CHARLES, Mo. — A 73-year-old physical education retiree traded in his whistle and cleats for a rainbow wig and oversized shoes.
After decades as a Hazelwood Central High High School baseball coach, Steve Kern has found a new calling as "Knucklehead the Clown" - bringing laughter and joy to audiences across the Midwest.
"Just trying to make their day better is all you do," said Kern, whose infectious energy and warmth have won over even the most skeptical of clown-fearing children.
In his former life, Kern coached soccer, wrestling, and baseball. He was also known for steering his players through the game's toughest moments with a healthy dose of humor.
"So the only thing for me to go out there and do was relax 'em. And I'd go out there and I'd tell 'em a joke," Kern said. "You'd tell a joke and that, and that even the umpires would start to scoot over to hear what the joke was."
Kern said that he used to look for great character students when he coached and not so much athletic ability.
"I loved the mental game, especially the mental game of baseball," he said. Kern believed there was nothing new he could tell players moments before a game so he would relax and once he told the joke he would assure the team that they already knew what to do.
Kern's world was turned upside down when his wife of 50 years, Debbie, passed away from COVID-19.
"Unexpected. Unexpected. We just had our 50th wedding anniversary," he said somberly.
Seeking a "diversion" to help move forward, Kern discovered his new calling as a clown.
"Being a clown and doing the goofy stuff that we do really really helped out a lot," Kern said.
Kern said the name "Knucklehead the Clown" came from a group of special needs children he taught physical education to over 30 years ago.
'It was probably maybe 15 of 'em and I used to start calling 'em "come on you knuckleheads" and they would follow me around like ducks. I mean I had a blast with those kids and I have one of them that I still go see movies with once a month.'
Through Shriner's Circus performances at local hospitals and children's wards, Kern has found a diversion.
"These are like the most important circuses we do," he said emotionally. "We might get a giggle or a laugh or, or something like that out of them. And, and that's tremendous."
11-year-old patient Lilly Warden attended a mini circus at the hospital after once shying away from clowns.
"It was nice to be able to actually have fun here. I like how they play. Let us have fun and see cool things and let us get out of our room and do all kinds of stuff," Lilly said.
"It's part of the clown prayer to be a distraction for things that go on in your life that aren't that good," Kern said.
As the lights dim and the crowd erupts in thunderous applause, Kern knows he's found purpose. Because in the end, the only score that matters is the number of smiles he can bring to those who need it most.
"It's, uh, probably one of the best feelings you can have," he said.