I Love You Guys

In Hoosiers, there's a scene just before the Hickory Huskers take the floor for the championship game where the Coach Dale looks at his players and says, "I love you guys."  Some people might not get that...how could a basketball coach say that to a group of players? 

Coaches know. 

Not everyone one of my players was "a love".  Many players didn't appreciate me, and to be honest, I definitely didn't appreciate all of my former players.  Most players, though I did really appreciate, and some of them I definitely - and still do - love.  Those players were the ones that I was able to bond with....someway, somehow, sometime.

Last Thursday, I was officiating a regional up in Freeport.  At halftime, I see an old face coming at me.  Steve Leathers played on a team I coached at Westmer in the early 90's, and I'm not lying when I say my heart skipped a beat to see him.  The same thing would have happened if another of a group of "those guys" did the same thing, but it was Steve last Thursday in a gym in Freeport.

That particular group of players at Westmer were special in a special way because they were the first.  My first coaching job was there, and so I wasn't much older than they were.  I think Steve said he was 45 now, so at my age now, I'm not all that much older.  While I didn't know it then, I was just a kid coaching a bunch of slightly younger kids. 

Steve played the game like it was a life-or-death battle, whether it was open gym, high school basketball, or a three-on-three tournament in Dixon.  (Yes, I played in open 3-on-3 tourneys with Steve and his brother Scott and Airren Nylin and Scott Spencer.  And we won.)  Steve had a passion for competition...he later developed a passion for basketball.  And when you put a passion for competition along with a passion for basketball...I suppose that's when the bond between coach and player really has a chance to develop and grow.

And as you can guess now, that was me...really still is.  I love competition, and I love basketball.  These are things that keep me loving officiating, missing coaching, and really missing playing the game.  (Although, I'm hoping losing some weight and gaining some strength in my knees might allow me a chance to play some ball soon.)

Seeing Steve last Thursday was truly heartwarming.  We hugged right there at half court ... the crowd probably was thinking that a fan was trying to influence my game decisions during the game!  Apparently, one of Steve's friends in the crowd recognized my name was announced to start the game, and the friend took a picture of me and sent it to Steve who was home.  Steve then drove to the game to see me.  We briefly talked at halftime, and then after the game we had a chance to talk for about 20-30 minutes after the game in the hallway at the school.  We talked about family and he caught me up on his family and former players.  He's working for Amazon now in the Rockford area, and he has a daughter in college and a daughter in high school.  He's divorced, but apparently is now dating, and his parents and brother are doing.  I know this seems like all mundane, boring information, but it was golden information for me.  Just to see Steve and hear about his life and family...truly a blessing on a cold night in Freeport. 

I think it should be a law that former players that fall in the category of "I love you guys." should be required to connect with the "ole coach" at least once a year.  That would be awesome.  There are so many former players that I think about from time-to-time and just wonder how they are doing.  I still get to see many from time-to-time in the area, and I happened to see Drue Kampman on television a couple of weeks ago.  I sure would like to know how all those guys are doing.

And to be honest, I even enjoy hearing the stories of the players that perhaps were as "loving".  I ran into Brandon Youngberg awhile ago, and he and I butted heads more than once and unfortunately we ended up parting ways as far as basketball.  But that kid was also one of those kids that loved competing and loved basketball, so I understood those parts of him and loved him for that.  I bumped into him maybe ten years ago, and while things didn't end up well in high school, I also enjoyed talking with him to see how he was doing.

Even just jotting these thoughts down brings my heart joy taking some trips into the past to think of those players...the practices, games, open gyms, award ceremonies, thrilling wins, heartbreaking losses.  IT WAS ALL SO GOOD!  I love you guys!

It Can't Be What I Want For You

Recently, someone close to me that I care about relapsed with substance abuse issues.  He destroyed bits and pieces of things and relationships with people that he had previously worked to build or rebuild.  I struggle sometimes with my own self-doubt and regrets - think about things I should have done or words I should have said.  I struggle to understand why his situation is the way it is, and sometimes I think I have a clearer understanding, and sometimes I just feel more and more confused.

Unfortunately, with people close to me or far from me, I can't impose upon them what I would really like to happen for them.  I can advise, WANT, support, recommend, love, worry, fear, and a lot of other things, but I'm ever realizing more and more that other people must decide what THEY WANT or THEY DON'T WANT for themselves.  AND THAT'S REALLY HARD AND UNFAIR all at the same time.

We all deserve to get out of life what we want.  We don't deserve to get out of life what others may want for us.  And it's not really fair for anyone to feel like he/she should want something because of someone else's influence.  I tell my students all the time that they must search themselves and learn what they want and then take the necessary steps to make that happen.

Here's my thing, though.  What a particular person wants out of life shouldn't be destructive or damaging or harmful to others.  How a person chooses to live his or her life is his or her business, but that choice should not negatively impact others.  When a person (your or old) knows the difference between good decisions and bad decisions and all decisions in-between, he or she should not permit his/her wants from impacting others poorly.

If someone legitimately wants something(s), and those thing(s) don't harm others, so be it.  Those folks, though, then must recognize that others in their lives are unfortunately and unreasonably FORCED to make decisions that "hurt".  My person that I care about is like a campfire.  I want to be supportive of the campfire...give it fuel to burn beautifully and be around to enjoy it's warmth and glow - maybe cook a hot dog, roast a marsh mellow or just admire the different colors and flames.  What I can't do, though, is put the wrong kind of fuel on the fire...I can't dump gasoline; I can't put too much wood or the fire burns out of control and I could injure myself.  In addition, I just can't get too close to the fire...I have to keep a safe distance or the fire could burn me or seriously injure me.

I really want to be close, I see the beauty and awesome positive things about that campfire, but I have to keep a safe distance. 

Ghost of Christmas Future Is No Fun

Here's something that burns in my heart sometimes as I'm teaching.  I see the kids in front of me, and I know their potential, but I also see the path they are traveling.  And I see that path because I've lived it myself and lived it as a parent and lived it as a teacher.  It's a heavy load.  How frustrating it is to want to motivate students to change direction and to give effort after effort to try and help students change direction.  How frustrating it is to know that despite the hope and attempts, in many cases there just isn't anything more I can do. 

I think that weight accumulates over time.  I think one part of retirement I'm going to enjoy is the removal of that load.  Oh, I realize there will be other things I will try to accomplish and other things or people that I cannot help, but the heartache of seeing kids going down the wrong path and knowing their likely future won't occur as much.

In this way, there are times I'm working with students and I feel like Dickens's Ghost of Christmas Future.  What a fantastic power it would be to teleport students into what their future will look like if they don't adjust their course - if they don't change their path.  If I could just "jolt" them into avoiding the road down the path of substance use and abuse; if I could just "jolt" them into avoiding the road that includes no additional training and finds them struggling in life with two or three part-time jobs just to get by; if I could just shock them into avoiding a life without meaningful relationships that have love and care.

I think that's the superpower I would like to have.  I would like to be the Ghost of Christmas Future, and the students would wake up the next day and take a sharp turn from their current paths.  They would find a cleaner life, a happier life, a more comfortable life, and a life with more loving relationships.

And we adults try to say the right things, right.  We try to tell them and warn them and advise them.  But we are just dumb adults that don't know anything - the same dumb adults that I viewed when I was a teenager and knew everything.  And sometimes, words work.  Too often, though, words aren't enough.  A trip with Christmas Future would be more powerful...I would love that superpower ability.