Officer, Officer........Thank You!!

     Commitment, passion, persistence, and desire to do what is right.  This is what today's post is about.  Actually, it is about a man that has exuded these traits for 25 years.  Think about that; wake up, put on a uniform, hop in a marked car, and have to be an example under constant scrutiny for 25 years.  Most of us struggle to go to our safe jobs daily and this man has done the above for 25 years.  However, when he woke up this morning, he never has to do it again.  He has been able to ring the completion bell and can finally relax.  He cared for the community, his co-workers, and his partners.

    Today, we celebrate the quarter century of service that Michael Yodonis has given to the city of Lake Wales through his career with the Lake Wales Police Department.  He's been patrol, detective in a couple of divisions, school resource officer, and what we most remember him by as a multi-time K-9 officer.  His ability to fit in with multiple situations, take information without judgement, and to look out for his community cannot be understated.  I mean, for 25 years he has been called names, disparaged because of the badge, not wanted when needed, and rushed in to situations most of us would flee.  He did this while being a newlywed, starting a family, having a social life, and further educating himself.  He finishes it with a marriage to match the years, children who have finished school and started careers, a wife who is excited for their future, and a calendar that is now fully his.  No more overtime, callouts, or storm duty. No missed holidays, birthdays, or anniversaries.  He also finishes with his latest partner by his side.  Through training, sitting for hours, and recovering from injury, he and Raegar have been side by side the past few years.  

    I thought about all the accolades he has accomplished and what he has done with his three K-9 partners but really, they don't hold a candle to the fact that for two and a half decades he has chosen to serve so that we could be safe.  Selfishly, I'm proud because he's my brother in law and I knew that when I was in Lake Wales he always had my back.  Things will be a bit different now.  There won't be a patrol car next door, I won't know when he's home or away, and I'll have lost a bit of the security blanket I felt since he won't be on patrol anymore.  However, I'm pumped that he will be able to travel without switching shifts, disappear because he has no responsibilities, and we can go have a beer without consequence.  

Mike, you've been a constant in the Lake Wales community for a very long time.  Many people don't stay in their jobs for a quarter of the time you have served in your position.  You can now let your hair down, take up the hobby you've been putting off, and sleep peacefully knowing you've done us all proud.  Congratulations on a stellar career, being a servant while being a leader, and for wearing a uniform even when it was looked down upon.  Enjoy your retirement, whatever that looks like.  I am sure Michelle is ready to cash in the honey do list starting on Saturday!!

We love you, are super impressed by your loyalty, and cannot wait to party at a racetrack soon.

43 - Now: My Story to 49

 43 - Now

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49. 

If you have made it to today, thank you for taking your precious time that you will never get back to look back on my life.  It has been fun for me to get it down on paper.  There have been so many moments, and man, I have had a great life.  I am looking forward to continuing this journey for many more years.  Hopefully, there are more amazing stories to put in my memory banks.

 At 43, I was finishing up my 7^th year at FSC and heading into the 8^th year.  There was not any racing happening, and every free moment we had was predominately spent making H&W Stables beautiful.  There were moments of fun, and when I could, I would steal time away.  The only way to avoid the barn was to leave town.  So, to do that, I would go work camps.  Being a college coach had some really nice perks.  Besides being dressed in great Adidas clothing every year, I had the opportunity to work with potential college players at camps run by the Rock n Roll tennis coach, Ed Krass.  I would work camps at USF and Lehigh University.  Most of the time I was only scheduled to work one week, but I would always put my name in to stay for the second week.  Also, when I would go to PA, for that camp, I would drive up to take a couple of more days of a break.  This also allowed me to check out some of the northeastern racetracks like Pocono Speedway, Watkins Glen, and Lime Rock Park.  Coaching was going well and Brianna was getting better and better with her eventing skills.

One of my goals as a parent was to allow Brianna to pursue something at the same level, or even higher, as I had while I was growing up.  Since I was in my mid-forties, 44, and was not pursuing anything, it was the perfect time for her to chase the “big time”.  Everything was sacrificed and that year, Michelle, Brianna, and Ruthie, along with Sam and Mae, would travel fairly consistently, three to four weekends a month up to horse world, basically Ocala, to train and compete in the eventing space.  That left Ken and me at the barn to handle all the weekend chores.  The funny thing about that, I will only speak for myself, I did not even like taking care of the horses.  Heck, I was only doing this for Brianna, and she was not even here.  She was chasing her dream of qualifying for nationals.  I cannot tell you how many times during that year that I would get a phone call that Gabe, Brianna’s first eventing horse, had ejected her during one of the cross country runs.  She persisted, they got better, and her moment in the sun arrived.  Late that fall, Brianna qualified for the AEC’s in Tryon, NC.  She did it.  At 14 years old she was getting to compete at the highest stage available to her at her level. 

 Even though most of the time was spent at the barn or walking the courts at FSC, we did steal away some great family moments that had nothing to do with tennis or horses.  Yes, sometimes it was hard to get Brianna to go with us, and yes, there were a few times that she did not go, or could not go.  I was fortunate and privileged to recruit a player named Brian Wilson.  Ironically, his family was also involved in racing.  Well, they were entrenched in the professional car racing that I thoroughly enjoyed.  His father asked us if we wanted to go to some races and if we did, he could get us some tickets.  Well, I have never felt like royalty at a racetrack, but for the next few years, we were afforded the opportunity to watch multiple IMSA races from hospitality suites at multiple amazing racecourses.  We went to Road America in WI, Road Atlanta in GA, Daytona International Speedway, and Sebring International Raceway.  We got hot laps around the track, great meals prepared by the team chef, and could go almost anywhere on the circuit we wanted.  Spending that time with such high-quality racers, mechanics, marketing wizards, etc. was quite an experience for the entire family.  The awe on Brianna’s face at some of the things we got to see were moments I will treasure forever.  Even during these times, I could see the discipline in Brianna.  She missed events like this so that she could compete to stack points towards her ultimate goal.

One of the coolest trips we got to do as a family was when we stayed in Laramie, WY for 10 days, Well the entire trip was 10 days, but it was awesome.  The logistics necessary to make it happen was stupendous.  Brianna was in final training for nationals, had to compete in regionals, and had the state 4H show.  Michelle was knee deep in the real estate world and I was going to be in PA working a weeklong camp.  The trip came to be because of the great generosity of Dean Clower and his family.  Dean is the head coach at the University of Wyoming, and we met at the ITA convention the December before.  He said we could stay at his house and visit places all around Laramie and Cheyenne.  Well, the wheels started to turn.  We scheduled it between Brianna’s competitions and trainings.  Heck, the morning she and Michelle caught their plane to Grand Island, NE, Brianna rode her horse to get one last ride.  I took their main luggage with me in the Jeep when I headed up to PA.  After camp, I started driving from PA to NE to pick them up from the airport.  Once I retrieved them, we continued west to WY.  Wow, what a place.  We hiked, slept with no air conditioning, toured the university, saw moose, and a gazillion antelope.  We also got to spend an entire day at Frontier Days at the Cheyenne Rodeo.  I am a huge Lane Frost fan, and this is the rodeo where he lost his life.  We even got to spend a day in Denver, CO where we met up with a former player from FSC, Kirk Kucin, and have lunch.  It was just awesome.

 

Once the trip was concluded the three-day ride home was just as nice.  We took back roads the first day, saw the world’s largest ball of twine, and even toured the original Bass Pro Shop.  Well, it is the new original, but it is the town where it all started.  Right after we got back, Brianna had just a few weeks until she was gone with Michelle for her national debut.  That trip really led me to a huge decision.  This would be my last year as a college tennis coach.  We kept it quiet, and I finally announced it to Pete Meyer, the FSC Director of Athletics, midway through the spring semester.  You see, even though I did not get to watch Brianna compete much, between needing to stay at the barn so Michelle and Ruthie could go with her, and the fact that what she does scares the shit out of me, I missed a lot of her life.  She was going to be 15 in 2017 and I would only have three more years with her at home.  I could not make up for the lost time, but I could be there before 8:30 at night.  I also did not really want to coach until I was 50 and this season allowed me the opportunity to leave with a large class of seniors.  Lastly, I was kind of done fighting the good fight.  I loved the kids, the training regiment, the travel, the drive to work every day, and had developed some great friendships, but some of the competitive fire was just dying.  When I finally was at peace with my decision, the year was a lot of fun.  I had not told the team as we entered the conference tournament.  I just wanted them to have clear heads as they had a tough task ahead of them.  If we defeated Rollins, we were pretty much guaranteed a spot in Regionals.  If we lost, their season, and my career were over.  Well, we fought all the way to the final match and we lost as close of a match as I have ever seen.  It was a fantastically fought affair and I was so proud of the effort.  As I walked to shake Ron’s hand, I grabbed him and told him I was done and thanked him for the years of competition.  Unbeknownst to me, a couple of players heard what I told him.  This led to one of my largest personal breakdowns I have ever had.  I was excited for my future, but I was sorry that it ended in this fashion.

 

The day I walked out of Florida Southern was a sad day.  As excited as I was to join Michelle in the real estate office, I was sad that such a great job and experiences that went along with it was over.  After 10 years at FSC, I had developed a relationship with many people in the athletic department, who I still think about fondly today and just by locking that door one last time, it was over.  What many people did not know, was about a week after I told Pete I was leaving FSC, Michelle was diagnosed with breast cancer.  We would be going through this as independent contractors and with her really being the only one that was earning a true income.  Oh yeah, we still had to take care of the barn daily.  Oh well, I was going to be around more now, and life was going to be great.  Brianna was doing well and had retired the horse that had taken her to nationals.  She was working with a new horse that was going to take her to the next level.  Oh, the plans we make. 

 

Michelle was a trooper and conquered her malady like the warrior she is.  I do not make light of it at all, but as she was during the actual battle, she does not want the light shined on her.  She always wanted the attention put on those that were in tougher battles.  So, we moved on.  Poor Brianna was not having much luck either.  Her new horse, Rio, was an outstanding horse except he liked to injure himself.  They would take a step forward, then two steps back.  This pattern would continue for the next three years.  After competing at nationals as a 14-year-old, she has not been back since.  Her horse developed anhidrosis, a non-sweating issue, that meant that he would be idle for almost a year.  After much work, expense, and more work, it was determined that he needed to drink a Pabst Blue Ribbon everyday for the rest of his life.  Damn, the horse gets a beer with breakfast.  I was slogging away in the property management department trying to learn this new industry and new life of being home all the time.  So, from 45 to 47, not much excitement was going on in our lives.  Yes, there still was some horse stuff, but not much more.

 At the end of 2019, things were starting to rebound.  Rio was getting healthy, the training was getting a little more intense, Michelle and I had developed a rhythm in the real estate, and yes, we were still working at the barn every day.  Brianna had gotten the opportunity to go to a training class up in Ocala with two world class eventers the day after Christmas.  Preparations had been made and this would be her first opportunity to show what she could do.  In the horse world, getting a working student position opens doors to many different avenues and as a young 17-year-old we were pumped that this might be something for the future.  Well, on December 21, Michelle and I were relaxing at home after our early morning chores at the barn were complete.  Brianna and her friend and student, Lacretia were out at the barn riding a couple of horses.  Brianna was warming up a pony, Sammy, that she had been training for many years.  Michelle’s phone rang and it was Brianna.  She asked us to come out to the barn because she thinks she might need some help.  She was crying and you could hear the shock in her voice.  While warming up, Sammy had spooked, reared up, knocked her out, then crashed down on top of her.  Luckily, Lacretia saw or heard her and immediately rushed to her aide.  Lacretia told us she was blue when she got to her.  I am not the most religious person, but something was watching over Brianna that morning.  Instead of rushing to try and get up, Sammy just laid there and allowed Lacretia to move him the way she needed to so that Brianna could be removed from under him.  Had he tried to get up on his own, he would have crushed her.  She was injured badly but there was no brain damage.  She had a fractured tibia and fibula.  Guess what, no horse clinic for Brianna.  Instead of being at the clinic she had worked so hard to attend the day after Christmas, she was getting a rod put in her tibia.  She was a beast during the entire process.  She never blamed the horse and could not wait to get back on the horse.  The first follow up appointment scared me but also proved what a bad ass The Pod is.  She asked the doctor if she could compete in her last Youth Fair at the end of January.  The doctor told her, “If you can handle the pain, you can ride the horse.”  Game on in Brianna’s mind.  It was not always pretty and there were more than a few moments of trepidation, but she competed and even won high point in her division...on Sammy.

 

Is there really much to talk about in the early part of 2020.  I was nearing 48, Michelle and I were trudging along with real estate and the barn and Brianna was rehabbing her leg, going to high school, and was dual enrolled at PSC.  We all know that COVID hit and the world kind of came to a standstill.  Brianna graduated and since she missed out on some horse opportunities due to the injury and pandemic, she decided to spend a semester here.  We became the home for the kids between her friends, her boyfriend Zach’s friends, and our nephew and niece.  The place was abuzz with activity.  Turning 48 really was not exciting.  Nothing was different and it was feeling like this may be it.  Oh, those dang plans!  In October I received a call from Brad Niethammer, the AD at Webber.  He wanted to talk to me about the tennis program.  The coach had left and they needed someone to fill in.  I was not interested, and I told him I would help them find a coach.  After a few days of talks I was asked if I wanted to do the position full time.  I did not but threw out a number to see if they would bite.  Well, they bit.  I told Michelle and her exact words were, “What the hell, let’s do it.”  I started coaching again in November of 2020.  I really had no desire to get back into coaching but let me tell you; getting back in with college kids lit a fire under me that I had not felt in a while.  Webber is not the way I left it, but it is better in so many ways.  The players are so nice, driven, and your typical student athlete.  As the year ended, I realized I had bitten off more than I could chew.  Oh yeah, through all this I started racing again and Brianna started a working student position in Citra.  We were not stagnant anymore.

Tennis at Webber was fairly nonexistent this semester.  We did not compete but the kids that were here trained every day.  Brianna has had a great time working her tail off for the trainers.  She comes home occasionally.  The funny thing is, she comes home to ride horses with her friends and to see her boyfriend.  I love that she feels free to be independent.  We raised her to leave, and she is doing it.  Michelle is a broker associate and is killing it in the real estate world.  Right before I turned 49, I finished my first full season of racing in almost 10 years.  Man, that felt good to be back on the road with Michelle.  Brianna is competing with Rio again and that has allowed Michelle to hit the road to watch her as well. 

 

Who knows what the next seven years has in store but if they are anything like the last 49, I better buckle up.  At some point there will be no barn to attend to daily, Brianna will come home less, and Michelle and I will be on the road again between her real estate transactions.  Life is so much fun and I am glad I’ve lived it the way I have.

 36 - 42

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49. 

As I sat down this evening to pen this addition of 0-49, I realized this is the penultimate edition.  Tomorrow morning, I will wake up being the age that started this whole stream of consciousness.  This span was fairly awesome.  Between racing, watching Brianna become a young gymnast, then transitioning to horses, and then moving to chasing others’ dreams versus my own, this seven-year span had a lot.

During the 2008 year I was just finishing up my first full year at Florida Southern.  The men’s program had made it to the finals of Regionals against a Lynn University program that had a relentless coach with some very skilled coaching tools, that as a newer coach, I just could not figure out how to counter.  As sad as the season ending that way was, it was great to be a part of such a good team.  Michelle and I were approaching our 8^th wedding anniversary and Brianna was going to Florida Flips for gymnastics.  With me commuting to FSC almost every day, I spent a lot of time with Brianna in the mornings.  Michelle and the grandparents would handle the afternoons.  I missed a lot and would continue that trend all the way through her youth.  I justified my desire to coach at that level and that distance from home by taking Brianna to school as often as I could and sneaking time on the rare afternoon to watch her gymnastics practice.  There was also this phrase that I repeated often, “She thinks all dads travel and aren’t around because it is all she knows.”  The only real benefit that came from me being away early and back late was that Brianna and Michelle developed an utterly amazing relationship.

Racing was still a huge part of my extracurricular activities.  We even purchased a travel trailer so that we could camp at the races.  During the 2008 season, at 36 years old, I probably had the most successful racing season.  I was racing with the kids in the 200c class and finished 3^rd in the series.  It was a blast.  From Chipley to south of Okeechobee and all parts in between, we camped and raced around 14 times that year.  To say my wife is a bad ass is really an understatement.  She would work all week, manage the ever-growing schedule of Brianna, and then pack the camper, hook up the trailer, and drive it to races.  She did this so I could coach and travel with my team.  There were multiple times that I would drive her car to races late Saturday night after coming off the road with the team, crawl into the bed in the camper, and then get up and race on Sunday afternoon.  She did all of this for me and for us, as a family, to have some fun.  During the fall, Brianna would have her gymnastics competitions and there were times that I would have competing races on the same weekend.  Of course, being the selfish person I was, I would go race and call to see how the event was going.  There were times that I would sneak over to the competition and then go back to the track to race my race.  To this day, I am thankful that these two ladies loved me as much as they did. 

From 37 – 40 I was stagnant.  I raced as much as I could but it kind of tapered off due to economic conditions that we created on our own.  FSC was my home away from home as I continued to coach.  Brianna was still involved in gymnastics but there was a transition that occurred for her that would shift a lot of our resources and time for many years to come.  Michelle was still teaching, I was coaching, Brianna was going to Babson Park Elementary, and life seemed normal.  We volunteered at the school for as much stuff as we could, went to races as much as possible, and did family events a lot.  We all lived so close together that family activities just seemed the norm.  When I was 39, I had transitioned to racing in the Senior classes and was racing in a spottier fashion.  Brianna was becoming a rather good gymnasts but had been introduced to the potential of taking some horse lessons from her grandma.  She was hooked but there was no way that we could manage 4 to 5 days of gymnastics and horse lessons.  Oh, the things we do for the love of our kids.

Brianna came to me one day and said she wanted to quit gymnastics and only do horses.  Suddenly, I had a flashback to the day I forced my quitting of BMX racing so many years ago.  We talked about being a part of a team, she was on the competition team for Florida Flips, and how you had to see the season through.  She understood and trained and competed her heart out.  I will never forget her last competition.  She did well and even podiumed a couple of events.  After the event was over, she came over to me and told me she was done, and she was going to start riding horses.  Everything started so innocently.  The first day we went to Rocking W Ranch to meet Kathy Grinstead, a wonderful coach for Brianna for many years, Michelle and I realized what we were getting ourselves into.  Kathy was going over the paperwork and she looked up at Michelle and me and stated, “Are you okay with your daughter doing something more dangerous than racing motorcycles?”  Brianna looked up and said, “Hey dad, I’ll be doing something more dangerous than what you do!”  Yeah me!!  Of course, I’m okay, but damn, do I really have to worry about my 9-year-old daughter being trampled every day from here on out?  Slowly but surely, we were spending more and more time at the training facility.  We started with two days, quickly to three, and before we knew it, we were there six days a week.  She started competing in 4H shows and that added even more to the mix. 

Economically, this was a tough ask for our little family.  Michelle would pick her up or her great-grandparents would take her and stay for the hours she was with the horses.  Michelle and I tried to have fun, but time was becoming quite the enemy.  I was approaching 40 and life seemed like it was about to stop.  Michelle and I went and did an adventure run right before my 40^th birthday.  The next month, while partnering with Michelle’s parents, we purchased H&W Stables.  You see, we now had two horses and it would be easier if we had our own place.  Yeah right!!  I know it seems weird to say, but you just know when there is a passion for something.  Brianna had found it.  She was skilled, driven, and worked non-stop to learn the skills she needed and then learn more.  She was riding every day.  That worked out great because from the day we purchased the Stable we worked there every day.  To be quite honest, in the beginning it was incredible to rebuild the facility, pastures, fences, and to see the place looking absolutely beautiful.  It was also beneficial for Brianna and all the other little girls that boarded horses or that came out to ride because they could ride all day and into the night.  There probably is something to that 10,000-hour rule.  As much as I was so glad to see her honing her skills and becoming an incredible horse person, inside I felt like I was losing my own identity. 

40 came and went, racing was almost in the rear-view mirror, and Florida Southern was my only refuge from the slog of taking care of the barn.  I completely understood the benefit of having such a wonderful facility for Brianna to become the rider she could, but I could not and still have not gotten over all the things that I was missing.  Our social life was limited to anything that could happen at the barn.  I stopped visiting my parents, going to see the few friends I had, going to races to participate, or even just going to watch races.  If this was my 40’s I really didn’t want to participate.  While I was still working at FSC, Michelle was transitioning from being an elementary school teacher to being a full-time real estate agent at her parent’s office.  Our time together was already limited because of my schedule and now between barn responsibilities, her new career path, and Brianna’s need to be at the barn from the time school got out until we forced her to leave late into the evening, our lives were not ours. 

There were some amazing things that occurred because of Brianna’s passion and work ethic.  She was asked to teach lessons, which was awesome, but due to her young age, either me, Michelle, or one of the grandparents had to accompany her there, wait, and then bring her home.  Our life had gone from serving our wants and desires to serving the needs of one.  However, she was amazing.  She was riding so many horses of different varieties and different disciplines that her skills just skyrocketed.  I will never forget that one day, while riding her grandma’s horse, she decided that she wanted to take jumping lessons.  Well, that led to a new coach and a new discipline called eventing.  Although my life as I knew it and the life I enjoyed was over, I was watching the transformation of my daughter as she ventured into this new, exciting, and somewhat dangerous world of three-day eventing.  I will never get back the time I lost chasing others’ dreams for them, but I also can tell you that my daughter would not be the lady she is today had I not.  As I write this this evening she is living in Citra, she competed on her horse today, and managed multiple horses for the owners that she works for.  Not bad for an 18-year-old girl with a dream and a lack of fear.  I hope I instilled some of that in her.  I know her mom did!

We wrap it up tomorrow as we go through 43-49!

29 to 35: My Story to 49

 29-35

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49. 

This little project has taken a life of its own, but it is amazing that I cannot seem to sit down and write it out until 9:30 at night.  This evening, MJ and I shot our first podcast for our Beyond the Curve Podcast so we had to set up the trailer so we could shoot it.  Obviously, that took longer than any of us expected.  It really helps to have a great partner, and she is a big part of tonight’s retrospective.  29 was a great age for me, heck, there is that prime number I was looking for, as Michelle and I were finishing our rookie season of married life.  We purchased a home four months after we got married, both had good jobs, and were just finding our way through the world as a married couple.  We did married couple things and even thought about getting ahead in our own little world.  We were both teachers, her in elementary school and me at a middle school.  September 11^th happened for both of us with a classroom full of students.  Each of us watched that unfold and wondered what it would be like to bring a child into that world.

 

While we were both teaching, I thought it would be fun, and not time consuming at all, to start a lawn service.  It was small, manageable, and allowed us to travel in the fall and winter whenever we wanted.  When January/February rolled around we were in the planning stages of finding out what it was going to be like to raise a kid in a world where our own country had been attacked.  I turned 30 that May knowing it was going to be my last birthday not being called dad.  Michelle was a trooper.  We put in new sod and even went to Daytona for the Pepsi 400 while she was very pregnant.  Less than a week after our second anniversary, Brianna Kealy Heath joined us, making us a family of three.  She definitely did not hold us back.  She went to races, heck she was going to those before she was born, she went on trips, and some say she became the best home seller for Ken and Ruthie with their real estate business.  Not all was smooth though.  Michelle could sense something was missing in my world and that was competition.  Coming from BMX and tennis at a high level to being a normal adult just was not going well for me.  My love for auto racing was greater than my economic capability so that was not a possibility. However, my cousin, Justin Wright, was racing motocross and it seemed that this might be a something I could do.  So, Michelle and I went down to Sky Powersports, here in Lake Wales, now known as McKibben, and we purchased a brand new YZ 125CC dirt bike.  The next step was to learn how to ride it.  So off I went to Dade City MX track for lessons.  Me at 30 years old out on the track with the 4–6-year-old kids all learning the same things.  Yeah, I was hooked.

 Through trial and error, I was able to get to the point that I could actually ride the beast.  I entered some beginner MX races and even won a trophy, 3^rd place, at one of them.  Not everyone in the family was super supportive of this new endeavor, but Michelle and Brianna were the best support team I could have asked for.  From 30-32 life was about watching Brianna grow, helping Michelle at her school, and learning how to be a better rider.  I think I was still teaching but that was beginning to come to an end, as I just could not handle the kids.  It was probably way more me than them.  During this time period I also had gotten my volunteer firefighter standards and also went and got my EMT standards.  I was working in the agriculture sector and riding my dirt bike whenever I could.  During the Christmas parade in Lake Wales in ’03 my racing career would take on a completely different look.  I ran into the Deputy Chief of the Lake Wales Fire Department, Chuck Croley, and he asked me if I had ever thought about doing hare scrambles.  I advised I had no idea what that was.  He explained that instead of going to a MX track and racing for 4 laps, sitting and waiting for an hour, and then racing 4 more laps, I could go race for two hours non-stop and then call it a day.  For some reason, this sort of torture appealed to me, so I had to go try it.  

So, in January of 2004 we all loaded up and headed to Polk City for me to race in my first hare scramble.  I was racing in beginner 1 in the hour and half race.  It was exhilarating.  As I was coming to the finish, I was in third place.  This was easy.  I would be a “C” class rider in no time at all.  About a quarter mile from the finish, I hit some sort of stump, went ass over elbows, and laid on the ground looking up at the sky.  I was fine but when I went to crank my bike the radiator started spewing coolant 10 feet in the air.  The gentleman that helped me up advised that I was probably done for the day.  When I got back to the truck, Michelle asked me why I did not just push the bike through the finish line since I was able to push it back to the truck.  Lesson learned!!  If you can finish, even if it means you push, finish.  There in started the hare scramble racing career, obviously as a rank amateur, and it has had many fits and starts over the past 17 years. 

Hurricane Charley came and put a damper on Brianna’s 2^nd birthday.  Being as we were without power and a home that was uninhabitable, we made the best with what we could do.  Again, the kid, affectionately known to me as Pea Pod and now as The Pod, just handled it.  We moved to a rental home, she had sleep overs with grandma and grandpa, and we just survived.  It was also this time, during this stretch of three hurricanes that I would eventually get fired, the only time that it happened to me, so life and its curveballs were coming in hot.  As I went into 2005, I really was not sure what I was going to do.  Michelle was entrenched in the education world, Brianna was developing at a great pace, and I was floundering.  Again, no direction.  I did go get my real estate license and thought that might be the answer.  Apparently, sports have a way of pulling me in or away, I am not really sure.  My dad happened to be the AD at Webber International University and needed a Women’s tennis coach.  I did not really want to do it, but it was some extra part-time money, and it was my dad, so I said yes.  Oh, my goodness, the women’s team was so nice, but they were not particularly good.  However, they tried hard, trained hard, and really wanted to be successful.  Life was great, we were getting destroyed but the season was going to be a breeze.  Of course, it could not be that smooth.  The men’s coach, upon completion of his MBA in February, took a position at a very nice club in CT.  All the sudden the men’s team, which was ranked to ten in the country did not have a coach.  I was voluntold for the position and that led me into the next twelve years of my coaching life. 

The men’s team qualified for nationals so off we all went to Mobile, AL.  Michelle and Brianna drove up separately and even took a couple of the players with them.  Brianna learned the art of colorful language on that trip, and we had a blast.  Brianna was so good at fitting in to all the scenarios she was thrust in and I think that is why she adapts so well now.  Being at Webber allowed Michelle and I to spend a lot of time with a part of my family that I have failed to mention at all in this retrospective.  When my dad married Stella, for many years it was just my sister, Michelle, and myself.  We were separated by four years so there was not much overlap in our lives.  When I was late in my teens my dad and Stella decided to add to our family.  I was fortunate to have another sister, Stephanie, and brother, Tyler that added so much to my life.  They were also a great birth control because there was no way I was ready to have rug rats like them for myself.  Stephanie was a handful and Tyler, when he was incredibly young, was a mini me.  Fast forward to when I started coaching at Webber.  Both had gone through Babson Park Elementary, so we were going to all their functions and getting to be an active part of their lives.  Both kids were very athletic, so we found ourselves at Frostproof High School watching volleyball games, soccer matches, golf rounds, and tennis matches.  They kept us all busy and really were a lot of fun to be around.  They were also wonderful with Brianna.  They were younger and would rough house with Brianna.  I think that helped toughen her up. 

One of the coolest things I did while I was 34 was to be asked to participate in Lake Wales Leadership with my dad.  This was a great experience and something I will hold dear.  Time marched on, Webber was becoming my home, Babson Park seemed like it was going to be where we lived, and life was going smoothly.  Well, that was until the Men’s tennis job came available at Florida Southern College.  It was very weird asking my boss, who happened to be my dad, if I could apply for the position.  I did not think I had a chance of getting it, but I thought going through the process would be good for later in my coaching career.  You see, I had only coached one and half years as a head coach when I went for my interview.  Somehow, Lois Webb, Pete Meyer, and Marie Scovron, saw something and I was offered the job.  So, in the summer of 2007 I left Webber and become the Moc’s Head Men’s tennis coach.  We continued to live in Babson Park, so I drove 34 miles one way every day.  It turned out to be a great way to prepare for the day and to wind down from the day.  The pressure at that next level was something I was not quite prepared for, but that first season was a lot of fun and extremely rewarding.  We qualified for Regionals, we had quite a few All-Americans, and I was ready for what the next year had to offer.  Oh yeah, I also finished my MBA during that first year at my new job as well.  Stack it all on and hopefully you can carry the load.

We are nearing the end and tomorrow we tackle 36-42.

22 to 28: My story to 49

 22-28

A couple of weeks ago I woke up realizing I was turning 49 in less than a month. No, I am not worried about getting older, I was pumped because I was turning 49 and how cool it was to be a prime number. Oops, about three seconds later I realized that 49 is not a prime number and that neat phenomena wasn’t going to happen until I turn 53. However, the fact that 49 can be divided equally into 7 equal parts of 7 led me to realize that, with some minor overlap, my life has really worked well in the 7-year increments. So, to appease my own curiosity and to cathartically get it out, I decided to write about each of my 7-year segments leading up to turning 49.

“Home again” was a phrase that got used a lot during my earlier years.  Now with a daughter who traveled with her horses and me who started racing hare scrambles later in life, that phrase has come around again.  We just got home from the last FTR race for this season.  The trailer is empty, the bike is clean, and so is the nasty gear.  Dinner has been prepared so now it is time to recount another seven years.  Tonight, I jump into seven years that led to changes that are still in effect with my life these days.

 I graduated from Webber at 21 but within two weeks turned 22.  After graduation it was intended for me to head straight to Germany to play the summer German team tennis league and to try my hand at the European pro scene.  However, my sister Michelle was scheduled to graduate from Winter Haven High School and the family thought it was important for me to stay and watch her graduate.  After much fussing, I stayed and watched as she was honored.  This trip was a great honor for me.  I was the first person in my family to travel across the pond, and to get to play tennis while seeing the sights was an awesome bonus.  Remember this was 1994 so communication was not the easiest.  I had a long-time girlfriend who was at home but letting her know how things were going was not a common experience.  While there, I learned how difficult it is for the international students.  My great-grandmother passed away, we were close, and I could do nothing but mourn her privately.  The trip was awesome, I saw some amazing things, and then it was time to come home. 

 In one of the previous posts, I mentioned that I really did not have preparations for my career after college.  That is not completely true.  One of my mentors, Dean Kendall, who had kind of taken me under his wing at 15, well he still helps me out today, was/is a successful stockbroker, annuities broker, and business guru had offered me the opportunity to learn his trade.  Me being me knew better and headed to Europe.  Well, opportunity lost is a great life lesson.  When I came back from Europe, I really had nothing.  I tried my luck with tennis stateside, I worked about five jobs at Webber, heck, I even drove forklift and packed trucks for a mailbox manufacturing company.  Life was beating me up and I was having a blast.  I pissed away money, had no direction, and appeared to be enjoying my mediocrity.  I worked as an assistant tennis professional at the Lakeland Yacht Club, thanks to Robert Hollis, one of my original tennis coaches, and my best friend Blake, who had plenty of direction, let me rent a room from him in the new house that he had purchased.  Remember, I told you he was a worker.

 Relationships came and they also went.  From 23 to 26 life was just a shit show for me.  Bouncing from jobs with no direction at all.  When I turned 26 life was at a tipping point.  Jimbo and I were partying, I was working at Webber in multiple part-time jobs, and we were having fun like you see in those crazy teenage or youth gone wild movies.  Complete debauchery.  Although, even with all that craziness I was a witness, also assistant coach, to complete greatness by the Webber tennis program, led by my dad.  Man, Webber was fun.  It was a work hard, party hard place.  Here is where the balance of life took a shift.  There was this golf tournament hosted by Webber and it was a party at the course.  It turned into a party on the way from the course, and that continued at the meal back at Webber.  As I returned to my condo I remember coming in the door, before dark, and then I remember 3am.  You see, I did not know when to stop.  The kids use a phrase, “Black out drunk”, and I had that mastered long before the phrase became vogue.  When I came to, I was wrapped in a blanket, have no idea where it came from, and was covered in vomit.  To say that I was scared to death was almost a true phrase.  I was so petrified that I ended up washing and drying the blanket and taking a shower before I went to bed properly. 

Another amazing thing that happened in that year was my dad’s 50^th birthday party.  You see, he was turning 50 and we were having a huge bash for him.  That led me to want to get him a really cool gift.  Ironically, little Babson Park had an antique store owned by Erin McCallister and managed by her young granddaughter, Michelle Welch.  As I perused the Knotty Boys collection I just had to ask, “Hey you want to go out some time?”  Her response would put me on pins and needles for months to come.  “Well, I’m only 17 so let me ask my mom and dad.”  What, at this point I was 26 and I am infatuated with a 17-year-old.  I advised her not to worry about it, but I would love to take her out once she turned 18.  Well, one thing led to another and finally in September we went on that first date.  On the third date, the same night as the party, I asked her a question, well maybe made a statement, that changed both our courses.  We stole away a couple of moments and I looked her in the eyes and said, “I don’t want to play any games, if you want to date me, then I’m in.”  I am probably adlibbing that a bit, but the point was, this kid, who was way more mature than me and the eight years I had on her, was forced to make a life altering decision.  She should have been having the time of her life in college far away from home but instead I was asking her to become my girlfriend. 

Amazingly, her parents accepted me, my advanced age, and my lack of direction the best way parents can when their only child brings home a scruffy puppy.  We dated, I still floated about the career/job spectrum and the dating turned into real love.  Her dad, seeing the relationship put down some roots, helped me gain some direction.  One evening he told me that if I was going to be able to take care of his daughter the way that she deserved, I should probably get started on a career.  It is weird how things happen.  I was working at Webber but at the end of the semester a lot of my jobs were removed, repositioned, or simply taken away.  Ouch to the pocketbook.  Enter the wonderful world of GEICO.  It was a great job, I did not hate it, it was real with potential, but I did hate the constraints.  However, it allowed me to prove that I was willing to be serious because, sometimes a bit of sacrifice is worth it when you really want something so precious.  Oh yeah, of course there were jokes, snide comments, and sneers that I was dating someone so young.  It is funny, we really do not get those now, 21 years later. 

With a new relationship, a new career, and really no idea what I wanted to do, Michelle and I dated like couples do.  She was going to college and working at the courthouse and I was working at GEICO.  She would sneak over to my office to eat lunch with me, or I would sneak over to USF/Lakeland to have a car picnic with her.  To this day, we still have some of our best conversations while eating a meal in our “car picnics”.  I took her to her first NASCAR race, sportscar race, and her family took me to my first ever World Series game.  We had holidays together, meals together, and by ’99 kind of thought that this might be it for each of us.  With the help of my mom, I chose the best ring I could get, got the gumption up to ask her dad for his 19-year-old, most important thing in the world to him, only daughter’s hand in marriage.  He had some really strict rules, that to this day I have honored and will continue to honor, and most importantly, he gave me permission.  On December 19, 1999 I took Michelle over to their family’s lake house, got down on one knee at the front porch, and asked her to marry me.  I actually did not hear her answer because an airboat went by right after I asked. 

 Wow, this is for real.  We were going to get married in August of 2000, but I cannot discuss that tonight because I would be 29 at that point.  The excitement was real, the journey had just begun, and for a guy who never wanted to get married, it is funny how life changes.  I guess the next seven years started with some excitement.