EA mourns beloved soccer coach Jeff Morris

With a faint sound, the car door opened, and out stepped Jeff Morris into the crisp fall air. The leaves crackled underfoot at uneven intervals, and his breaths were ragged. Still, he trudged forward towards the soccer field, with calls of “man on” and “time” ringing through the trees. When he finally reached the edge of the pitch, he sat down on a foldable chair and, in a hoarse voice, called the team together. Immediately, the colorful mass of pinnies descended upon him and took a knee on the freshly cut grass. He began talking, but quickly stopped to move his chair to the other side of the crowd. He had seen his players squinting into the sun and wanted to spare them from the glare. Then, after succumbing to a coughing fit and wiping his nose with a tissue, he pressed on with his strategy discussion, fighting to keep his voice strong. 

Walking back onto the field afterwards, the team’s mood had shifted. Their conversations were quieter, and their expressions darker. But the sprints were faster and shots harder. Their coach was dying—he’d received a terminal cancer diagnosis. And yet, he was still there, coaching their game against Springside Chestnut Hill, spending his final months doing the thing he loved most. And the team was determined to bring victory to the coach who had dedicated so much to them.

Long before coaching at EA, Morris spent his childhood in New England. He attended Muhlenberg College, playing goalkeeper and serving as captain of their varsity soccer team. After graduating, Morris played semi-professional soccer, began traveling the world, and participated in numerous business ventures. “He has such an incredible passport stamp collection that can outweigh anybody I know,” says Fabio Bevi, a longtime friend who also coached with him. 

Morris particularly enjoyed visiting Central and South America. There, he hiked through the wilderness and lived with indigenous tribes. During his expeditions, he’d play soccer with locals and host clinics in developing countries. He also founded various enterprises, including owning a café and a company, More than a Tour, which ran ski trips for business people. The entrepreneurial streak continued in Pennsylvania. “[Morris] ran World Cup Sports Academy and ran a nature camp at the Willows here in Radnor Township for many years,” says Bevi.

While juggling time commitments to his businesses, travels, and playing soccer, Morris began coaching the sport he loved. He spent time at Villanova University, among other schools, before settling at EA, where he led the boys JV soccer team. “I always enjoyed when I got the opportunity to go and watch JV play and how he inspired the kids to play,” says Zach Ward, varsity boys soccer head coach. At Episcopal, Morris installed his signature possession-based style of play, while sprinkling in unique drills, jokes, and stories from his life into practices. “He would always make us laugh,” says Jackson Bernabei ’28. “He would tell us his stories [about being] in Ecuador and playing street soccer.” 

On the club side, Morris joined the fledgling Main Line Soccer (MLS), which practices at EA and draws much of its player base from the EA community. Founded in part by then-EA varsity boys soccer head coach David Knox, the club focuses on fostering enjoyment for the sport. There, Morris eventually became Coaching Director and helped spur the organization’s growth. 

His coaching led to a period of success and cohesion at EA. “[My] sophomore year, we went undefeated,” says Liam Blair ’24, a former player who later coached with him. “Junior year, we did really [well]—we only let in under 10 goals. And then senior year was more of the same.” 

But beyond the results, Morris cemented strong bonds between teammates. One of the main changes he made to the program was having the JV and third teams practice together. During training, he would watch the entire team, and based on effort and hustle, invite third team players to play with JV. When a student visiting from South Africa practiced with the team, genuinely curious, Morris spent the day asking him questions and making him the focus of attention.  

Other players share similar stories: “I had COVID one week, and I showed up to a game on the sideline,” says John Samar ’27. “And after the game, he made everybody run out to halfway [on the field] and chant Ooohh Aahhh, John Samar.” “He was somebody that everybody knew, ” concludes Blair. “When he didn’t know somebody, he went out of his way to get to know them and to talk to them about life experiences and make a connection with them.”

However, his EA tenure wasn’t without obstacles. “Our main problem the year that we went undefeated was that we were [getting] tired and our conditioning was down,” recalls Blair. “So he led us on a campus run/nature tour through the cross country field. [But] he didn’t just tell us to run; he ran with us. We must have run about eight or nine miles over an hour and a half.”  

However, a lack of conditioning paled in comparison to the adversity Morris and his team faced during the 2025 season. Before the year started, Morris was informed that he had contracted terminal cancer. The disease, coupled with his treatment, weakened his voice and attacked him with coughing fits he couldn’t control. Still, every day, the JV team was reassured by the sight of his car pulling into the parking spot that, after years of use, he’d practically reserved. Borrowing his favorite phrase, they’d call the German word, “Hup,” after the headlights turned off, and the freshmen would run to his car to collect the team’s gear. 

Meanwhile, Morris continued emphasizing fitness, but he couldn’t run with the team. To give instructions, another coach would have to amplify his words. Sometimes, he couldn’t come to practice, prompting long texts to his other coaches with detailed instructions on what drills to run.

Despite the obstacles, Morris soldiered on, continuing his time-honored coaching practices. He would have the players compete, for instance, in a German game in which teams compete to score only by headers. And the team appreciated his work ethic, feeding off of his energy. Every practice, laughter still filled the field. If teammates traded blame, Morris would caution them that by pointing one finger at each other, they were pointing three fingers at themselves. If a plane flew overhead, he would wildly wave and encourage the team to join him. If anyone was out of position, he would joke that they were in the “wrong zip code.” If anyone had a point they wanted to make, Morris would invite them to speak to the team, then point out how many times they’d used “like.”

The team marveled at his connections—each game, he’d spend what felt like hours chatting with the officials. The conversations always ended in laughter and a wide smile. “I was always impressed with this last season,” says Ward. “As sick as he was, it never halted him from coming to training and games. He just loved the game so much.” Blair shares, “He lived for soccer, but more importantly, he lived for the people that he coached.”

Ultimately, Morris remained at the helm for the entire season. The Springside Chestnut Hill game was his final match coaching from the EA sidelines, but he still guided the team from the background during their final game versus Haverford. Afterwards, on May 25, he passed away peacefully at home in Berwyn. He was 65 years old. “It was a pleasure working with him for the eight—ten—years I got a chance to do that,” reflects Bevi. “But we’ve been friends for many more, and that was even better. He became almost a second father to me.”

This season, the first the soccer team has approached without their beloved coach, Morris’ impact continues to be felt across the EA community. MLS, the club he dedicated so much to, remains thriving. EA students continue to attend his summer camps. And in the halls of the Upper School, students address each other by nicknames that Morris created. “I remember when he started calling Andrew Roberts ‘Bob,’ and that’s stuck,” says Bernabei. “I still call him Bob. A lot of teachers call him Bob.” 

“When you lose someone, it’s always hard,” says Bevi. “His motto was building character through athletics. That’s what we wear on our shirt. That’s what [his soccer projects] represent: building character through athletics. I think that basically encompasses the most important values of being a student-athlete.”