Sunday, November 23, 2014

Our Boys of Fall, continued.

Just under a year ago, I sat down and tapped out a blog entry titled "Our Boys of Fall". We had just come of winning the first State Football Championship in Buhler High School history, and I hoped to paint a small glimpse of the image that season will forever hold for me, our staff, the community, and, most importantly, the young men who put together that season. It was no Cinderella story. There had been no talking mice to help piece together a magical evening or a fairy godmother to wave a wand and make everything work out just so. In place of those Disney devices were gallons of sweat and tears, hours or work and pain, and immeasurable volumes of heart and desire.

Yesterday I sat down for the first Saturday in over three months and had no preparation to focus on, no film to break down in anticipation of the next opponent, and no rush to devise a game plan. I sat and drank coffee with my wife, and she told me how badly she felt for the seniors. I went downstairs and sat down on the couch where I spend most of my fall Saturdays. I had nothing to do but watch college football, if I decided that was what I wanted to do. I didn't. I started to watch Minnesota battle Nebraska on ESPN, but three snaps in I turned off the TV and wondered upstairs and out the back door. I lit a fire in the chiminea and started pulling up the withered tomato plants from what was a garden the last time I had seen it in the light. I noticed for the first time that the neighbors across the fence are halfway through building some sort of addition onto the back of their house. Huh.

In short, the day was relaxed, but far from restful. I should have been working.

More than one of our boys, the young men who sweat and bleed as Crusaders, have posted their thoughts on the end of the season on Facebook. Most lament the fact that our season has ended one week early, one week short of the goal our seniors, and every other member of the squad, set as the ultimate goal of the season. They set lofty goals for themselves, a State Championship. Those are hard to come by. They know what it feels like to win one and how much work goes into it, and they were willing to put in that work and shed the tears and blood that it takes to get to that summit. Unfortunately, things do not always work out like a movie script.

That is one of the frustrations I have. Most sports movies end with the team of worthy warriors getting their prize, hoisting that trophy, because that is how it is supposed to be. Remember the Titans, Major League, The Mighty Ducks. To paraphrase Hannibal, from the A-Team, not from Silence of the Lambs, we love it when a plan comes together. A few nuggets of cinematic gold get closer to what most athletes experience, but even then, they cannot get it right. Possibly the biggest high school football film in recent memory, Friday Night Lights, ends with the boys of Odessa falling just short of the goalline at the state championship game, the boys shedding tears that streamed through the blood on their faces. However, the film was based on book that chronicled an actual season of the Odessa Permian Panthers, and it kind of fudged one little detail. The team did not make it to the state championship. They lost in the substate game, the semifinals, to the team that would go on to win the championship game. (On a side note, Boobie Miles did not blow out his knee in an early season blowout after Coach Gaines sent him back in because Boobie's backup could not find his helmet, which Boobie had hidden; Boobie's football career essentially ended in a scrimmage before the season even started. Not as dramatic, right? Let's revise that a bit. Ah. Perfect. Fiction, not fact, but perfect.) Apparently, the moviemakers did not see a loss in the semifinals as quite as dramatic and screen-worthy. It would seem that that would have made them just losers, not losers at the highest level.

Bull. The 2014 Crusaders fell to Topeka Hayden on Friday. They fell short of the state championship game by one week. However, they are far from losers. No one can argue they are. The stories here are compelling, just as they were last year, when the season went one week longer. Don't get me wrong; the state championship is a big deal. Only two teams end a season where they want to be, and only one team raises the trophy and feels like a winner at the end of the day.  We should rightfully celebrate it and the boys who won it. They deserve the ring, the trophy, and the photo on the wall. To reach the highest level of achievement is the goal. They hoisted the trophy and left the field champions. We must celebrate that. They are an example for each team that comes together, and we will strive to meet their standard.

So, we failed to meet that ultimate goal. However, this group of young men has a great deal to be proud of. This team set records on offense that are eye popping. a 2000 yard passer and two rushers with more than 1500 yards is impressive. Many schools have rushing records of fewer than 1500 yards. Passing and receiving yard records were eclipsed and rewritten this season. Behind the records were even more storylines. A player returned from an injury that cost him an entire season and stepped up to start on both offense and defense, displaying the heart of a lion and guts of a warrior. A fullback who once played defensive back lined up in no less than four offensive positions and drew the attention of every defensive coordinator that the team faced, while also firing off as a defensive tackle when the offense left the field. A senior stepped up and made every varsity snap, having earned the position through renewed focus and desire months before his senior season kicked off. Returning starters from the championship team moved from contributors to leaders, from filling a spot to dominating the men across from them. That's what seniors are supposed to do in a program. It was their turn. Younger players stepped up as needed, as integral contributors on the field, sometimes on one or two special teams, at other times filling roles on offense and defense. They battled, matured, fought and scraped, providing spark on the scout team each week and contributing when and where they were needed. And they will be back, setting lofty goals for the next team of Crusaders that is to come. Injuries, frustrations, egos, and attitudes had to be pushed aside and put away, replaced by a love of the brotherhood that is bred in early morning workouts, summer heat, and battles to become stronger as individuals, and to become more than those individuals, to be come a team, something bigger than themselves.

The struggle even went beyond the young men on the field itself. Those young men had to battle through the absence of two coaches. An injury during practice and a medical emergency off of it led two coaches to miss significant time in practice and at games. Their absence was definitely felt by the boys with whom they work on a daily basis. They missed their coaches, because of familiarity and because of personality. Even these instances have led to lessons for the team members, as the coaches battled to return to their rightful places, not for money or recognition, but for the love of the game and dedication to the boys they were pulled away from. Furthermore, the boys saw others step up and step in to fill voids. That is what you do as part of a team, as part of a family.

High school football is about so much more than what happens on the practice field or on Friday nights under the lights. General Douglas McArthur once stated that the football program at West Point was vital to the development of our military leaders, due to the lessons learned through the battles on the field, the skirmishes in the locker room, and the individual and collective growth that is unique within a football team. I have to agree with the good general, and believe the sentiment applies to the high school gridiron as well, perhaps even more so in today's society.  Some boys become men, in part because of the challenges they face through football, and others grow as young adults because they find the guidance and family that might be lacking without the rigors of football. Sometimes, they get what they need, something uniquely important to them them as individuals, which could only come from being part of the team, or the program. We can be surprised by what that is sometimes. One young man told me early Saturday morning, following the somber ride home to Buhler, that he truly appreciated the opportunity he had been given to work with our program. He was not a player, but he was a vital member of the program over the last few year. I tried to tell him how much I appreciated his efforts, his work and dedication, which have been significant to me personally and to the team as a whole. Then he said something that stopped me and that I will hold on to for as long as I teach and coach: he told me that having the opportunity had changed his life.

I end with this: thank you to the group of men that is the 2014 Buhler Crusader football team. Seniors, what you earned over your four years can never be taken away from you. I am proud to have worked with you, to have spent time with you as you have grown up and I look forward to seeing you continue to grow as men. Juniors and Sophomore, you have time before you. You have been challenged and how you react and respond is in your individual and collective hands. You have been a part of great things, and can continue to build something even greater. Finally, Freshmen, yes freshmen, you had an impressive final season as a separate, distinct unit, and you can carry that success with you as you become an even more integral part of the Crusader program. The time flies. Enjoy it. Enjoy being part of this program.  Make each day great, a great day to be a Crusader.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Obvious

I have recently discovered that I am an incurable fan of the obvious. "What?" one may ask, attempting to delve deep into the statement to uncover the metaphysical significance hidden there.  Well, stop. Just reading the sentence. What does it say? I says that I have recently discovered that I am an incurable fan of the obvious.  Yep.

That is not to say that I not find the subtle subtext, the cloaked innuendo, the hidden nuggets of truth equally pleasing or even more appealing at times. However, every once in a while, a tree is a tree, laughter is just laughter, and a hue carries no more meaning than allowing a shirt to coordinate with a pair pants. I do not wear khaki pants because my world is dull and unappealing or my outlook on life does not lack joy or passion. Khaki pants just go with everything.

Today, I burst out laughing at a sign on the internet that should not have had such a significant effect on me, but it did. The sign? A simple brown and white background, overlaid with these simple words: "You know it is cold outside when you go outside and it is cold." That is funny. Simple. Blunt. True.

Obvious.

Some days, that is what I need.