Seeing the Whole Field
September 20, 2013
I spent almost all of my days as a competitive athlete in a position where all the other players were in my field of vision.
From the age of 10 until I gave up baseball at 20, I was a catcher. I spent my entire career in foul territory, observing the other players in fair, the entire diamond before me.
In basketball I was what we now call a “point guard.” As I brought the ball up court, the other nine players were in front of me.
As a high school and college football player, I was a defensive safety. No one was to get behind me; and at every snap, 21 other players were in my field of vision.
I’ve always known that participation in sports shaped very much of my character; but only recently – nearer the end of my professional career than to the start – am I seeing the whole field and appreciating the fullness of that influence. For example:
-
To be the one who asks for the fast ball or curve. Or the change-up when it’s needed.
-
To be the one who sets up each play and delivers the pass to get it started. And watching others score.
-
To be the one who makes the tackle when no one else is left to do so.
-
And most of all, to see the whole field; to see all of one’s teammates and observe how they all are indispensable to a winning performance.
Once A Coach
April 15, 2014
While I was doing some spring cleanup in the yard of my house a weekend ago, the legendary coach, Phil Booth, walked by with his wife. In response to his shout “Hi Jack!,” I replied “Hello Coach.”
Phil has been many things during his long life; and even now he is an accomplished painter. But as one of our state’s most winning high school baseball and football coaches while at Lansing Catholic Central High School before his retirement two decades ago, he is still “Coach” to me . . . as he is to very many other people.
Once a coach, always a coach.
At my father’s memorial service 15 months ago, several players from the high school and college teams he coached in the 1940s and 1950s paid their respects, still referring to Dad as “Coach.”
Once a coach, always a coach.
At the visitation and Mass for former MHSAA Associate Director Jerry Cvengros on April 7, many people referred to him as “Coach,” even though he had also been an English teacher, athletic director and principal. And in his eulogy for Jerry, the MHSAA’s current associate director, Tom Rashid, used the word “coach” at least 25 times, even though Jerry’s illustrious coaching career at Escanaba High School ended 30 years ago.
Once a coach, always a coach.
There are very many very important ingredients in educational athletics – students, officials, administrators, parents, media, and volunteers of all kinds – but the key ingredient always has been and still is the coach. The impact of the coach can be, and often is, deeper and longer lasting than all other contributing factors combined.