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.
Living With Change
December 1, 2017
One of the odd and irksome scenes I observe occurs when a relative newcomer to an enterprise lectures more seasoned veterans about change. About how change is all around us, and inevitable. About how we must embrace it and keep pace with it.
All that is true, of course; and no one knows more about that than the veteran being subjected to the newcomer’s condescension.
No one “gets it” better than those who have lived and worked through it. Short-timers can’t claim superiority on a subject they’ve only read or heard about.
Who has the deeper appreciation of change in our enterprise? The person who started working before the Internet, or after? Before social media, or after?
Who has keener knowledge of change in youth sports? The person in this work before, or after, the Amateur Athletic Union changed its focus from international competition and the Olympics to youth sports?
Who sees change more profoundly? The one who launched a career before the advent of commercially-driven sports specialization, or the one who has only seen the youth sports landscape as it exists today?
Who can better evaluate the shifting sands: newcomers or the ones who labored before colleges televised on any other day but Saturday and the pros televised on any other day but Sunday (and Thanksgiving)?
Where newcomers see things as they are, veterans can see things that have changed. They can be more aware of change, and more appreciative of its pros and cons. They didn’t merely inherit change, they lived it.