A different time

In the last month, two coaches from my youth have passed away: Mike Heuer and Dick Compton.  Mike coached (with a few other guys) the very first football team I played for - Kelso Merchants (6th grade) and Dick coached my baseball team in 5th and 6th grade (Elks).

I really enjoyed playing for those guys.  Both made playing and practicing a worthwhile experience.  Mike had known family members of mine long before I came along and he and I remained friends until his passing.  I hadn't seen Dick in many years, but I remember him as a slow-talking, kind hearted man.  As I got older, one thing that I really grew to appreciate about these guys is their devotion to youth sports.  Neither of these men had kids on the team when I went through.  They coached for the love of coaching and their belief that sports are important.  Those kind of guys are on the endangered list.  To coach a team, and give all that time and energy on kids who aren't yours for the sake of a community really speaks loudly of what kind of men they were.  Most teams nowadays (regular season and all-star) are headed up by a parent of a child who is on the team (or is headed up by a parent who's child's only chance of being on an all-star team is if his/her dad is the coach - but that's a post for

another time).  And there are many mom's and dad's that are good coaches, but often the parent is either way too lenient on their child or way too hard.  I imagine that you can think of more than one example of an unhealthy parent-child coaching relationship.  I can.  In my opinion, my desire for controlling what/how my kids learn sports is not worth disenfranchising them from the sport - or worse, straining my relationship with my kid. I love the model of instruction where a child learns fundamentals from someone with experience/knowledge, and then the parents support/practice/build on that knowledge and skill at home.  I also understand that where there's a need, sometimes you don't always get to choose who the coach is, so I'm also thankful for parents who step up.

I love coaching, and I like that I get paid for it - even if it's just a stipend.  But those types of guys are on a different level because they weren't paid.  It was all volunteer - for many years!  It was what they did because they believed it to be the right thing to do.  It was worth the time at practice/games and planning for them. It was worth coaching the kid who was just starting out and the kid who was athletically gifted. It was worth the second guessing from parents/fans.  It was worth the time away
from their own families. I love that.  Guys like Mike and Dick made a huge difference to me, as I'm sure they did to many kids.  It was a different time I suppose - I think.  It seems like non-parent coaches were common then, and much less now.  We need more people like them.

So let me thank all my youth sports coaches: Mr Karnofski, Mr Adams, Mr Cox, Mr Davis, Mr Hiatt, Mr Compton, Mr McGee, Mr Allred, Mr Heuer, Mr Dunlap, Mr Sundquist, Mr Morrison, and apologies to any I may have forgotten.  (It's been awhile so forgive me.)

That's Incredible!

Incredible - inˈkredəb(ə)l

adjective

1. 1.

   impossible to believe.

   "an almost incredible tale of triumph and tragedy"

   synonyms:

   unbelievable, beyond belief, hard to believe, unconvincing, far-fetched,implausible, improbable, highly unlikely, dubious, doubtful

Remember the old show from the 80's That's Incredible?  It was one of the first reality tv shows and

featured John Davidson, Cathy Lee Crosby and Fran Tarkenton.  I loved it.  You'd get to see people doing incredible things in incredible ways in incredible places.  As a little kid I'd often respond to such episodes with awe and wonderment, "whoa!"

The last year has been pretty incredible for me.

Found out I would be teaching middle school for the first time, got married - with a step-son, got a new truck as a result because my old one got too small real fast, am finishing the basement now too for the same reason, went on a teacher strike, and now have a baby... incredible.  And that's all in less than a calendar year. Any one of those things happening in a year would have given me plenty to do (and think about) but holy smokes.  I also would have considered myself lucky to have gone through just one of those (except the strike - that wasn't fun but I did learn a lot) but I got to experience them all!  It's beyond belief.

A couple years ago I had resigned myself to the notion that I wasn't going to have any more kids.  This was kind of sad, not because I had been disappointed in my only kid (hardly), but because I had always envisioned myself as dad of a few.  Being around Kaeden (Leah's oldest) for 8 years and then suddenly not being around him was a painful experience as well, and I went through times where I was ok with not taking that risk again too.  In all honesty, a couple of years ago, dating was going not well (I'm a terrible dater) so the idea of just Dash and I would be fine moving forward.  I knew that it was going to take a lot, and someone incredible, for me to reach for "completeness" again.  Thinking about that was overwhelming.  Mind you, Cortney and I first started being around each other a couple years ago but I was far from a sure thing.  (I'm surprised she hung around. Thank God she did though.)

Fast forward to now: I come home from a busy day of 13 year olds to Zain squeezing my knees, "Hi Daddy Andy!"  Dash is reading or playing video games  but comes and sits by me when I plop onto the couch.  Cortney kisses me and gives me Tov.  There's no place I'd rather be. I am a happy man.

Can I tell you about Tova for a minute?  She's been a great baby.  I don't mind the diapers or the sweet little crying.  I enjoy the ridiculous little girl clothes and accessories.  Her hair is brownish/redish for now and I think her eyes will be brown or green eventually.  She is beautiful and I'm so lucky to have her.  I get asked about her a lot - especially her name.  We heard it from my Aunt Paula.  Tova is a Hebrew word for good, but it's a Scandinavian name. Good.  A short name that is easily spelled and easily pronounced - a teacher's dream.  And good.  She's good.  My family is good.  My life is good.  I think what Cortney - and Tova - have done for me has been so good for me.  They have put a peace on my life that I didn't know I was missing/needed.  A calmness.  A good-ness.  It's not by accident that I am where I am today, and it's not necessarily because of me.  I have a wife that sees what kind of man I can be and pushes me to get there.  Anyone who would have met me for the first time 2,3,4 years ago would not have gotten real excited about who I was.  I know this.  But a good woman does strange things to a man, and I have "found a good thing".  She is incredible.