gratitude for a trio of gifts

It’s almost Christmas break, time to stop for a couple of weeks, give thanks, and take stock. As a coach at Collegiate for almost four decades, this hiatus, in the wake of the fall athletic season allows me a few days to slow down a bit, pause, and reflect. Three thoughts linger.

One Thursday in late November, a brutal storm swept through Central Virginia and dropped enough rain to make the creek that runs through the North Mooreland Road campus overflow its banks.

Later that afternoon, the skies cleared, the sun came out, and a warm, gentle breeze bathed the group of distance runners who congregated on the track to run intervals even though their official team practice had been canceled.

As I walked across the football field to make sure they weren’t doing something crazy, I noticed that the FieldTurf carpet, which had been pummeled by almost three inches of rain a couple of hours earlier, was almost dry.

The next night, I stood on the sideline at a local high school football game watching the players slip and slide and slog through a quagmire. As I moved along with the action I was to report in a story for the Richmond Times-Dispatch, my thick-soled, all-weather boots became muddier and muddier, and the two pairs of socks I was wearing did little to protect me from the dampness that was creeping up my legs.

All our fields aren’t synthetic, of course, and some of our greatest institutional athletic memories were forged in the rain and cold, but I was left with two unassailable observations:  We’re incredibly fortunate to have the facilities we do, and, man, are we spoiled.

My second thought is of the friendships I share with my colleagues, not just the ones who join me in the cross country and track experience  but those who coach other sports and truly want to see all our teams succeed.

In early November when we’re in the championship phase of our seasons, very often we play in different venues in different parts of the state. One game/match/meet ends. None of us can wait until we read the next day’s newspaper. We’re on the phone checking to see how each other’s teams performed.

We ran the state cross country meet at Woodberry Forest on November 10.  Cell phone connection from along Rt. 15 is maddening at best, so you can’t learn the results of the other contests until the bus  turns east onto I-64. Before I could dial that evening, my phone rang as if on cue.

“How’d it go?” boomed a familiar voice. He didn’t identify himself, but I could tell by his enthusiasm that it was Andrew Stanley, our varsity boys’ lacrosse coach and perhaps as passionate a supporter of our total program as there is. I’m not sure if he wanted the blow-by-blow account of a memorable afternoon, but he listened patiently until I thanked him for calling and caring and then signed off.

Before we’d reached the Gum Springs exit, I knew all the results from the day.  The Alltel folks must love Collegiate.

My third thought is of great kids we coach. Yeah, we have some excellent athletes too, but our program is  populated mainly by good people whose diligence has made them very good athletes.

More often than not, we go into action with coachable kids who have bought into the year-round training plan and put team success before personal accomplishment. They take care of each other, cheer for each other, and support each other. They arrive at each workout and competition with smiles on their faces. They train and compete without fear, complaint, or excuse. They realize that nothing can be accomplished without discomfort. They enjoy and are motivated by challenges. They understand that the sport is less about the moment than about the lessons that can be learned and applied to life.

So there you have it, three reasons that coaching is a calling rather than a job. Thanks for listening.

Happy Holidays!