Monthly Archives: March 2016

It’s Only JV

I left the house with purpose of mind. As soon as the local high school baseball practice was over, I’d jump on the field, rake the pitcher’s mound, rake the batter’s box, drag the field for tomorrow’s home JV baseball game, and get home in time to eat dinner with my wife. Thirty minutes…tops. Life has been a little crazy lately so I thought nobody would really mind if we just did the basic field prep work and went home. I told myself it was only a JV game. Get the field playable and forget all the bells and whistles of a normal varsity home game.

We finished the mound. We finished the batter’s box. I ran the finish drag around with the mower while RC hand-watered the pitcher’s mound and batter’s box. Well, it was only a JV game. 90-minutes later, I am raking the limestone track around the backstop with the new sprinkler laying down a fine spray of water on the dry-as-a-bone dirt and I pause to look at my watch. 90-minutes. Yeah, I missed dinner with my poor wife.

I continued to rake until everything was in its pre-game place.

I know it’s only JV game, but there is no “only”.

Every game matters. Every game is important.

A game deserves the very best of what we can give.

Every play, every pitch, every possession.

Life is like a JV game. It’s not often in the spotlight. It is not all glory. It is work. It is getting better every minute of every day. It is giving your best even though the crowd is small and nobody seems to really be paying attention.

This environment is where you get better. Get better at your game, your art, your career, your very human-ness.

Put your time in. Do your very best. And then wake up and do your very best tomorrow.

Hard work is the magic.

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Coach Wilson

I pulled an old t-shirt from the drawer to wear for our walk last night. It was one from the deepest, forgotten bottom of my shirt drawer. It brought a smile to my face and unleashed a flood of good memory of my all-time favorite sports mom. Here’s the shirt.

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When the kids were young and we had just moved to town—way before there even was a Coach Hays—we got involved with the local swim club. The future, great sports mom had a son a few years older than my kids, so, our first summer we crossed paths almost every weekend. Apparently, I wore a “Wilson” t-shirt quite often because toward the end of the summer, when we formally met the future great sports mom and her family, she told us a funny story about how she thought my last name was “Wilson” because that was the name on my shirt. We had a great laugh at the time and she continued to call me “Mr. Wilson” for years.

Fast forward to my first year of coaching football and her son is now a high school junior. Naturally, to the great sports mom, my title changed from “Mr. Wilson” to “Coach Wilson”. The name changed but not the ornery twinkle in her eye and smile whenever she called me that.

She was everything a sports mom should be.

  • Supportive of us coaches
  • Supportive of the other players.
  • Her son’s biggest fan, not his agent or his lawyer.
  • Never tried to pave the way to make things easy for her son.
  • Didn’t bring snacks/refreshments with the expectation her son should play because she brought snacks/refreshments.

Most importantly, she realized sports are just sports. She taught and valued the big picture and that there was more to life than a high school athletic career.

She was the kind of person you’d be happy to go out of your way for. Whether it was spending extra time with her son training or practicing or driving four hours after oral surgery in the middle of our family vacation to watch her son play the Kansas Shrine Bowl football game in 110° weather, you’d do it. But, I could never have told her “no” that particular time because she printed my entire family personalized Shrine Bowl t-shirts just so we could be a part of their family cheering section.

She passed away a few years ago. I miss this great sports mom. Whenever I see her son and the wonderful family he and his wife are growing, I am reminded of her joy, her kindness, and her fabulous attitude toward life. This helps fill some of the hole left from losing great people. Over the past several years, two of my favorite sports mothers have died too young. Theses ladies, and the examples they set, are greatly missed.

But, most of all, I miss being called Coach Wilson.

 

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