I can remember some genuine moments in my short but entertaining youth coaching career. I can remember, for example, sitting with the boy whose dad hardly ever attended games and talking about how sad he was that his dad couldn’t see him play. We talked about it in terms of how hard his dad worked to make sure the family was happy and well fed. He agreed that his dad was a super hard worker and that we should make sure he played super hard and worked super hard in practice so when dad could make it he’d see his son working as hard as he did. I remember all of the tough practices when nobody wanted to listen; all of the sessions when the offense never seemed to work right or ball movement wasn’t close to being a reality.
I remember the losses.
I remember the big wins; the cheers afterwards and feeling good about the kids feeling good. I still enjoy running into other coaches and feeling that camaraderie that exists among us–especially among those I call rival.
I’ve coached everything under the son, raising three boys who are deeply into sports. I’ve come to appreciate the relationships, the acknowledgement and recognition of that hard work. This is why it is so difficult to be on a team where it is deeply clear that I don’t matter one little bit to anyone on that field or sideline except maybe my own kid. It hit me hard to recognize that after putting in so much work and sweat equity in helping these kids understand the nuances of the game, I am suddenly Just Another Dad who the coaches couldn’t care less about. Part of me wanted to roam the sideline offering suggestions. I feel like I can contribute and, though this could be armchair coaching at play, I feel like I have a basic understanding of how some of the systems in play can be improved.
I realize this is my ego talking. This entire football season has been a lesson in humility. The kid who was a superstar before being on the team is a nobody–a one touch a game back/slot receiver who has a whole bunch of speed and heart but not too much focus or experience. He does well with the one touch. I do less well with the abject obscurity. It isn’t that I want to be noticed–I could care less about people knowing me. I want to participate. I want to help the kids grow and get better. I want to offer something. I want to make new moments with my son and with others and give what I can towards helping them to becoming better people and players.
Some Thoughts:
- Thinking back to 1804 (Aaron Burr!) got me thinking about 1806, which is the year future president Andrew Jackson killed Charles Dickinson in a duel. How many of our earliest leaders and founders fought to the death like that. Here’s some irony. History books suggest that Jackson had several duels (mostly against attorneys, which I kinda get) and the majority of them were about defending his wife’s honor. Here’s the irony: She who needed to be honorably defended, disparaged Washington after Jackson was elected president, promising she would rather “be a door-keeper in the house of God than to live in that palace in Washington” She died before moving to Washington.
- Ex Machina looks like a CGI’d version of Her.
- New Star Wars trailer. Check it out here.
- New Avengers trailer. I’m not sharing.
- Chuck Lorre said he’d quit writing those short notes at the end of his shows. Liar. He wrote another one this week.