Earn It!! -- The Story of Charles

Relaxation is something that people who work just do not allow themselves to do much anymore. I specified working because if you aren’t gainfully employed, a stay at home mom, retired, or unable to work, you cannot say you are busy and cannot find time to relax. That word, relax, has come to be such a word that just gets thrown around and we have forgotten how important it is to relax so that we can reflect on what we have accomplished. I say this while drinking a nice glass of red wine and typing out the latest blog. The red wine was a suggestion from a good friend, Cliff Coleman. He told me I needed to stop drinking beer, dang it, I really like beer, so I started trying red wine. It is a relaxing endeavor and seemed appropriate tonight. Relaxing was also hard for the focus of tonight’s past player blog. He worked his butt off and today he sees the dividends of that work that was done many years ago.

Charles Garneau was another of the French Canadians that came to FSC to ply their trade as athletes. He was recommended by another player and I was sure that he would fill the void created by losing some great former players. He was French Canadian and the others from the same area had been very productive, great contributors, awesome students, and downright funny human beings. When Charles showed up on the FSC campus he was a tiny thing. My first thought was, “Oh lord, we are going to have Napoleon’s complex with this one,” and he definitely played bigger than his body should have allowed. Immediately he checked off a couple of the important boxes. He was a great contributor with his effort and academics but he was struggling to succeed on the court and he wasn’t as funny as the others. The latter wasn’t super important because he was task driven and stubborn. The stubborn part was a little tough but as you will read a little later was an important part in his overall success. He immediately played in the top six and his freshman year he had some good success in singles and was adequate in doubles play. All was okay, then his sophomore season happened.

As we entered his sophomore season you would expect that the growth that had occurred during his freshman season would have toughened him up as he moved forward. This did not occur and that thing that happens to athletes known as the sophomore slump happened to Charles. He did not perform and at the end of the season had only played four singles matches during the entire season. This would have been great except he was being pushed out of the lineup by walk-ons. He was forcing the issue and was trying to play bigger and bigger which only added to his frustration and my bewilderment. As the season wore on I was getting angrier and angrier and wanted to pull the plug on this little Canadian. Here is where the heart and business do not go well. I loved my athletes as human beings. I recruited them because of various reasons. One reason was because I thought they were bad ass players that could make a difference on the court. Another was that I thought they would be great ambassadors of FSC and their academic prowess would make us a superior program on campus. The last reason was because they were good people and I really like good people. Charles fit all those boxes on paper and had done so well to make that happen his freshman year and then his sophomore year the train just came off the track for the athletic portion. After the season, Charles and I had to have one of the hardest talks you can ever have with someone that you care about. Basically, this was our conversation. “Charles, I recruited you and gave you a scholarship because I thought you would come here and make a difference on this team.” “Do you believe that you have done that this year?” He answered no and then I continued. “I am judged on my wins and losses and when I bring a player in that doesn’t perform that is on me.” After a deep breath, I continued. “At FSC once I recruit you I have you as a player unless you do something stupid. You have done nothing stupid but you have not performed. Do you agree?” He answered and I continued as the words backed up in my throat. “I need to bring in a player that can perform but the only way I can do that is to take away part of your scholarship so that I can free up the money to bring a player to do that.” “Will you please sign this paper that you are okay with having your scholarship cut since you agree you haven’t done what you were brought here to do?” He answered as the anger swelled in his massive heart. You see, the only way that I could cut a scholarship was to have the player agree to it. He agreed, then it was his turn.

“Coach, I cannot afford to be here without the scholarship that you have given me. I am going to go home and work all summer so that I can come back here and play next year. I will prove that I belong here.” I thought that was a great attitude considering the circumstances and felt the pressure in the room pushing me further down in my chair. He continued, “If I prove myself during my junior year would you please allow me to have my scholarship money back during my senior year?” I told him that I would make no promises but if he came back and did what I knew he could do we would sit back down and discuss what was possible. He then stated, “My mom and dad have told me that they would not pay any extra so I will have to work all summer to make the money to come back. I will work at restaurants, construction, teach tennis, or do whatever I have to do.” He signed the paper with tears in his eyes and left the room. I too left the room with tears in my eyes because somehow, I failed to get the best out of him on the court.

When a player tells you they are going to do something it is always dangerous to hold your breath in anticipation that it will really happen. Think about your own life. The idea of accomplishing something big seems appealing, world changing, and could make you feel like a real bad ass. Then the actual work begins and it’s hard. Demanding work is not something many of us strive to do. Well, Charles did the work. I mean he labored. He did everything in his power to earn the money to come back to cover the portion of his scholarship that I had unceremoniously removed from him. He also applied for and became a resident assistant in the dorms for his junior year. When he arrived back on campus for his junior year there was a fire in his eye and pep in his step that had been missing. He worked harder and more deliberately towards all his goals. He earned his spot back on the team in singles and doubles and we sat back down at the end of the season once again. You see, I was supposed to take the money that I took from him and bring in another player. If I was to bring in another player and Charles failed during his junior year he might leave opening more money for me to use the following year to bring in another player. I failed!!! I did not accomplish the task of bringing in another player so that money he so desperately wanted and needed just sat there slapping him in the face. He didn’t throw it in my face and graciously accepted my offer to return his money to him during his senior season. When the reward is earned, it is appreciated and it is honorable to abide by your word.

During his senior season, he became the boss of the team. Not because he was ready to do so but because he was the only player left from the previous squad. Seven of the eight players had graduated leaving only him. I recruited a fresh style squad trying to go more American, which is another story for another time, but it just didn’t work out. Charles had been a great six player and sometimes fit in at number five but during his senior season he had to play number three. He was a skillful player but he was not equipped to play at that level on a day in, day out basis. He took his lumps during the senior year and that squad was the worst performing team I ever coached. We just weren’t that good. We had fun as a team, the guys were awesome, we just didn’t win. This falls squarely on my shoulders and the players gave me everything they had. The best moment of the year as an athlete for Charles was during his last match of the season he was able to pull off a win to end his career on a personal victory. He was also awarded the MVP award because he dealt with so much his senior year it was the only logical thing I could do to honor his efforts. He earned it more for the work he did to get to that point than he ever did as the athlete he was.

Charles graduated but didn’t leave. If you go to the Mortgage Firm in downtown Lakeland you can see him working side by side with one of his former teammates. His work ethic continues to allow him to pursue excellence. Now, he just helps others achieve their dreams. The walls that were put in front of Charles have created a beautiful home that he now resides in with his girlfriend. Well done Charles, well done!

Emulate the Great but be the Best You!

How many of us sing or have sung in the shower? What about driving down the road and your favorite song is blaring on the radio? Of course you have, and if you are one of those who said you haven’t you are a big fibber or a miserable person. This is how I feel about writing. I don’t know if it has a purpose, is on key, or even if the words are right but it makes me feel good. It is fun getting things out of my head and onto the paper. Whether they are read or ignored really doesn’t matter because it is my therapy. If you enjoy it and get something from it that is outstanding. The whole point of that is that I got a random phone call today from an old college buddy. Wait, I’m not supposed to say old. We were former college teammates. Screw it, we are old but we are still kicking. He just called to say hello and tell me that he has been enjoying my writing. Of course, I poked out my chest and got a smile across my face but it was what he stated that really got me. He and another college player are cancer survivors and have been kicking cancers ass for a few years now. They waged a battle, developed a relationship deeper because of it, and have continued to improve. Keep battling boys, it should be the only way you know.

With that intro into tonight’s player there are actually some similarities. He plays because he loves the game and he developed his game for his enjoyment and not because someone told him to play that way. Let’s talk about Lance Francisco a little this evening. A walk-on who taught himself to play tennis with YouTube. These dadgum kids and their technology is amazing. Think about what we could have learned if we had YouTube when we were kids. Heck, what about just a computer?

Lance came for a visit while he was a senior in high school. He was living in the US but was from the Philippines. He came to FSC with his family and we spoke while watching the guys hammer out shots. He just wanted a shot to be on the team and thought he would benefit from being with better players daily. I didn’t see him play live but I watched videos that he had sent me. His strokes were beautiful and his footwork was impeccable. I had visions of taking him from the walk-on to a collegiate level player. He just needed to get beat up more from better guys and learn the skill of match play. He had the strokes but was weak in the match play department and there is no substitute for this skill. The only way of acquiring this necessary skill is to put yourself in the fire repeatedly until you become so hard you cannot break.

So, what do you do when a kid really wants to be a part of a program, you think you can get something out of him, and his strokes look eerily familiar; of course, you tell him to be here in the fall and you give him a shot. Well, he showed up. He roomed with two other freshmen and the adventure began. He started the fall and immediately got injured. So, he kind of hung out and watched a lot. He also had a problem following the trainers’ advice. He thought that he could handle it through his mom and dad and not utilize the services that were supposedly directing his path at this point. He healed up and we finally got to see him hit. The players immediately thought that he was a clone of Roger Federer. You see, those YouTube videos he watched were of Roger and he copied everything that he did to a T. He even played with the same rackets although they were not the right rackets for him. When I stated that his strokes were perfect I wasn’t kidding. The beauty of the swing was flawless it was the actual production and thought process that was flawed. He could hit the best shots because that was what Roger did. The problem is, none of us are him. We can copy the process but until we have put in the same work we cannot produce the excellence on a repetitive basis. For Lance, this was not important. If Roger played this way that was the way he was going to play.

Needless to say, this didn’t help his potential to get into the top 8 traveling squad. Although he didn’t play much his teammates loved him. It was hard not to like him. He was polite, would do anything with you, and didn’t know how to say no. He loved the game and wanted to be around people who also loved it as well. He floundered around the back side of the lineup but he came out for practice, played his challenge matches, and on occasion there were these glimpses of greatness. There were also injuries. A lot of injuries. We had ankles, shoulder, knee, elbow, more ankles, a few more shoulder issues, and I am sure I have forgotten a few. Nevertheless, he kept coming out and putting in the best effort he could. He didn’t really get the match experience which contributed to him not growing further in the lineup but there was one night of greatness and it is a memory that I will never forget because I saw the true meaning of teammates that night.

It was Spring Break and for a tennis player in college that just means matches. There are no trips to the beach or drunken parties. At least, there are not supposed to be. This particular Spring Break I had made a couple of ruthless days and needed all hands-on deck to get through it. We played a match at home in the morning and then after a quick shower and lunch loaded up in the van and headed towards Melbourne for a late afternoon match. In essence, we were playing a traveling double header. The second match was against another DII foe from the north. Bloomsburg was not going to be our strongest competition so I subbed in some of the lower guys to give them a chance to shine. After jumping out to a quick lead in doubles we made the decision to sub out one more player. The player that had the first dibs on going in the lineup bowed out which meant that Lance was getting his shot. Instantaneously the nerves appeared and he wobbled out to the court to begin. The first set looked like he had never competed a day in his life and he lost the set 3-6. The guys who weren’t playing would give him a cheer and try to keep him pumped up but you could tell he was uncomfortable. As the second set began he started loosening up and Roger began appearing. The opponent’s arrogance also gave Lance a boost and the second set went to Lance 6-3. This is where the magic happened. All the other matches had concluded and we were up 8-0. Lance’s match would determine if it was a clean sweep or not. Now, let’s make a picture of this story. Tennis courts predominantly run north/south. Imagine all of Lance’s teammate sitting on the south bleachers. The opponent’s teammates were in the bleachers on the east side. The other coach and myself had excused ourselves and were hanging back watching the magic that was about to ensue. Since the match was decided the third set would be the infamous super tiebreak. The first to score ten points would win the set and the match. With every point, it felt like a session at the US Open. The lights were on, the atmosphere was electric, and after every point the teammates were hanging off the fences cheering on their respective player. As the tiebreak continued it was hard to tell who was going to crack first. Lance was playing out of his mind and at one point had a match point. Roger disappeared and it was just Lance. He went for it but he just missed. His teammates thought he might have pulled it off and the crowd went wild. He just missed and in the next few points the match went to the opponent. The crowd cheered for both and that was it. The team won 8-1 and Lance won the hearts of his teammates for an amazing performance.

Although Lance lost that night he endeared himself to me and his teammates. He was visually nervous at the outset, visually upset at the conclusion, and in the middle, he cared more than he cared about anything at that moment. This was his opportunity. We were at dinner that evening and he thanked me for the opportunity and told me it was a night that he would never forget. I have never let anybody know until now that I cried after he told me that. You see, I was hard on Lance. I always wanted more, prodded him, potentially tortured him, and he was thanking me for an opportunity that in the end he was defeated. His class will never be forgotten. Lance is a senior this year and still has some growing to do. I know he will figure it out and if he doesn’t know the answer there are some amazing tutorials on YouTube I am sure he can check out.

My Brain Just Won't Let Go of This Word

For some reason, I cannot get the word consistency off my brain recently. As I sit here at 9:38pm tonight to pen this little piece that word echoes almost as loudly as the Spotify playlist coming from the laptop speakers. I don’t want to be sitting here at 9:38pm writing this but due to consistency I am here. It is something that I have lacked previously and to create the habit of good consistency I am having to write this now. I could have easily decided to do it tomorrow or just skip it all together and I would still have been consistent. This was the norm when I decided to write before. I let other things take precedence and allowed others consistency to dictate my behaviors. When you actually give a damn about something it becomes frustrating when you allow it to not happen. I’ve been there multiple times throughout the period in my life that I can recall.

When I wake up in the morning I know what I am going to be doing. The consistency, although mundane and not always the most fun things, brings a clarity that is peaceful. For twelve years I knew my days and nights like clockwork. Recently, I have changed my direction career wise and although the mornings are still the same the work day is considerably different. Consistency is still there but the structure is different. Learning new things has never been something I have shied away from throughout my life. I guess I have been consistent with that part of my life. The lack of consistency has come from my unwillingness to really master each craft and becoming an expert in that field. Comfort and ease of use were the norms and when boredom, which was self-imposed, arose the learning desire ceased to exist. Since I made the decision to make this career change I also had to make a different commitment as well. You see, I have chosen to go into the family business and let me tell you, they are good at it. That being said, I have been in family businesses most of my working career but not under the direction of the family in such a direct form. I was a school teacher, as was my mom and my wife. I was a college tennis coach, like my dad was for a very long time. I had the opportunity to work under his direction for a few years but then spread my wings and did it my way. I am now in the family business with my wife and we work under the brokerage of my father in law and mother in law. They are awesome and have built an incredible business. Michelle has been with them now for five years so I am now the rookie. The excitement and desire to do remarkable things is on the front of my mind everyday but I still have the doubts of consistency that plague my thoughts.

When you wake up tomorrow turn on your TV and watch the news. Get on your favorite social media outlet. Pay attention to your drive to work. You will see the most amazing things. The television news is consistently about the worst possible things that could possibly be happening in your area, the country, and around the world. Now, go talk to the general public and just talk to them. Things aren’t really that bad. Look through your social media feed. The same people who have a shitty day tomorrow will be pissed off at something else or someone the next hour or day. The people who are goofy today will be goofy tomorrow. If you pay attention during your drive and are consistent in your times you will pass the same buses, see the same cars, and might even catch the same lights. Consistency is around us all the time. It is comfort and it’s what keeps many of us from moving on with our life. Maybe I am the only one that feels this way. Maybe I’m the only one who gets pissed because I allow my consistency of complacency to hold me back from being consistently uncomfortable and growing because of it. In my humble opinion if we wouldn’t give so much credence to what is shoved down our throats from our multiple outlets we might think there is more to be had instead of protecting what we safely hold. If we allowed ourselves to see what was possible by thinking a bit more about the positive future and the wants that we have always desired instead of the naysayers telling us it won’t work we might surprise ourselves. I always get a kick out of people when you tell them about something that interests you. It’s either too dangerous, too expensive, not possible, or you can’t find the right people. They are right. They won’t. That doesn’t mean you cannot. It is truly up to you.

What are you going to consistently allow in your brain? You get to decide every minute of every hour of every day. If you really want it there is a way. It may be hard, heck it probably will be hard, but I promise that if you truly want it there will be a reward for doing it. There are guys that I went to high school with and I have watched them, thanks to social media (kind of ironic isn’t it), grow things, sell them, and create more things. I have watched people embrace their careers and take them until the end of their working days. I have seen people love what they do. They pursue or pursued excellence in their chosen tasks consistently. This is something that more of us should follow. Find the positive examples and leave the bitchin’ and moanin’ to the talking heads in the media and those “friends” on social media who are absolutely miserable and need us to help them feel worse.

Hopefully there is a consistent message in here and you will consistently pursue your excellence on a daily basis. I know that I have now stuck my cocky neck out and must consistently be better than I was yesterday. This transition will not only be painful to you but to those around you. We all like those who stay with us. Once we try to better ourselves we become weird, different, or fanatical. The consistency of these emotions will never change.

There is a podcast guy that I listen to whose name is Grant Cardone. He finishes all his podcast with this: “Be Great Because Nothing Else Pays!” Go be consistently better each day and see what happens.

Oh Wait You're Not German---It's Not How You Speak that Makes You Who You Are!

Today was a big day across the US. We had spots that had a total eclipse of the sun and then other places with a partial eclipse. It is amazing how one person can have such a wonderful experience and the person beside them thinks it should be more or was expecting something completely different. Tonight, I will write about a player who had the same effect on me as the eclipse did on some of the population today. Guenther Fercher was an Austrian player who I inherited when I took over at Florida Southern. He was a tall guy, somewhat goofy in my mind, but a damn smart and caring person.

When I came to FSC I was excited to walk in to a team that had three Germans. Although they were stubborn, I had seen what German players from my past could do and their work ethic was second to none. There was only one problem, I only had two Germans. Guenther spoke German, I made a large assumption, and learned that he was not what I thought but that he was Austrian. Although I had his nationality wrong, I truly think he was German and just didn’t want to believe it. His best friend was German, his mentality was German, and he was stubborn, just like a German.

My first impression of Goony, the nickname that was given to him by Ray Duyungan, was that he was just a goofy dude. You see, I coached against Guenther when I was at Webber. He and his partner, Roman, destroyed my doubles team. Roman and Guenther were about 6’4”, tall, lanky, and the epidemy of business on the court. Guenther had goggle glasses and a weird way of carrying himself. Needless to say, they destroyed us that day but left an impression that I would soon have to work through. Fast forward one year and now he was my player. The goggle glasses were gone, replaced with a more standard looking pair, he was still tall, but now he was my player and he was good. I mean, massively skilled when the practice court called. There were not many guys on the team that could play at the level he could pull off during the early hot fall practices. Speaking of hot weather, when it came to fall training he was a machine. His weird stride and long legs made the lake runs a breeze. He would also almost glide up the hills and the sprints were a piece of cake for him. With that great speed and effort came a massive amount of perspiration. I don’t mean that he sweat like an athlete I mean he sweat like someone followed him around with a hose and just left it on. He would leave puddles at the bench, he would leave wet spots from water coming out of his shoes, and from what I was told, he would have to hang his clothes up outside of his apartment because if he didn’t they would stink too badly.

Guenther is one of the few players that I coached that had a one-handed backhand. It was flat, penetrating, and a true weapon. On the deuce court in doubles he would create some of the nastiest inside out angles with his one-handed backhand. For a long time, I would give him grief because I just thought he was lucky. He proved to me multiple times that he could pull this shot off pretty much at will. With the style that he played there was also much risk. He played so flat that he didn’t have much room for error. When things got tight he would switch from his aggressive style to a more conservative game which included more slices from the backhand side. I prodded, poked, and at times got angry because he would retreat into his shell and stay comfortable. He was so good but just didn’t believe he could pull off those laser beam shots over and over.

Winning is what we are judged on in the competitive world. Being a good person is just a bonus but not a necessity. Guenther did his share of winning but probably could have done more. He was so good at tennis but was even better academically. He graduated early from FSC and stayed and played one more year while doing his MBA. He also helped coach and was a beast as an assistant coach. I remember one day we had split squad running test. The first group killed it and the second group half-assed it a bit. Guenther and Roman were not satisfied and had the second group do the run again. In an amazing twist, the second group completed the run. This little run was a three-mile Indian run and it just happened to be in the rain. The motivation that he and Roman administered was good. They were just such hard workers in the classroom and on the court that they expected the same thing from teammates. Guenther and I didn’t always see eye to eye but my respect for him will never waiver. I know he gave me everything he had even if at times, I wanted more. Sometimes you can get it out and at other times you take what you can get and use that to help the others around him. After college Guenther returned to Europe and has worked in the financial world. He knew what he was good at and stayed within those bounds. It was a pleasure having him as a Moc and now it is a pleasure to speak about the person he has become.

You Too Can Make the Dean's List -- Ray Duyungan-- A Former Player at FSC

High Schools have started and colleges and universities are going through the process of kicking off classes in the next few days or weeks. I thought it would be a good night to write about another former player that was at FSC when I arrived. There were so many players from such diverse backgrounds and they shaped me in many positive ways. Ray Duyungan was definitely one of those players. Not so much for his on-court prowess but more of his electric personality.

When I arrived on campus Ray was an eager sophomore. He had made it through a rough freshman year with the previous coach. He was not one of the top players but with a new coach he had a fresh lease on his tennis life. Ray was a Florida boy with a strong Philippine heritage. His Florida, beach boy, good time heritage was even stronger. He had been a good Florida junior but when he hit the buzz saw that is tough DII tennis it slowed drastically. This can be a fairly substantial deterrent for pushing that extra mile. Ray enjoyed being on the team, the camaraderie of his teammates, and being the life of any party. Even if he created the party himself.

The day I came on campus I set a standard that would become one of my proudest during my tenure at FSC. During the first meeting with the team I advised them that not one player would make under a 3.0 and that we would be an Academic All-American Team from year one to the end of my time at FSC. I also had the goal that every player would accomplish a 3.5 GPA. Even though I knew this would be difficult for some players I felt that it was a goal that would help them more than any level of tennis they obtained while playing at FSC. Ray was the first player to come to me with panic in his eyes. His freshman year he had only achieved a 2.8 GPA and wasn’t sure that he could achieve what I wanted. We talked and I assured him in my caring way that he could or he wouldn’t play. You see, if a player did not make at least a 3.0 that player would be suspended to start the following semester. If a player really cares about his tennis this was a great tool. Also, peer pressure is an amazing thing. Most of the athletes on the team did not have a problem with this. We had as many as half of each roster as 4.0’s. This motivation would become a great catalyst for Ray’s academic turnaround.

As Ray worked towards improving his grades the one thing he dominated was his night life and his ability to give others nicknames. I was not a huge stickler for rules when it came to going out because being good requires a certain level of self-discipline and a good bit of self-control. Ray went hard when he went and between his teammates and fraternity brothers he had an audience ready to go. When Ray did get the opportunity to play he had the biggest crowd. His fraternity brothers would walk by the courts, stop, and cheer whenever they felt like it was appropriate. Many times, it wasn’t the appropriate time. I didn’t care. I loved the support for the team and it made an incredible atmosphere for the guys to compete within. When Ray went out he would tout the blackout drunk nights and then role into practice as about half the man he could have been. There was one hot spring day that we were having quite an intense practice and Ray was trying to hang in the best he could. It didn’t take long and he was back at the fence ridding himself of the prior nights concoctions. He had those moments but he was always there. He had realized in his own way that his gift to the team was not going to be in the line-up but as a supporting role. He also started giving players nicknames, that to this day still stick. He created “Ronald McDonald”, “Big F@@@”, “Coachie”, and many more. These endearing terms had staying power and when I think of the guys these days, I still think of those names and the fun times we had with them.

Ray matured and got his stuff together. His GPA at graduation was right around a 3.4 if I remember correctly. He had made the dean’s list multiple times and went to Washington State University for grad school. He still parties, although not as much, and he is still witty as ever. He was a good player but an even better person. Although success wasn’t always found on the court he was able to parlay the discipline he did learn and use it in other ways. He currently works in logistics and has just recently moved back to Florida. He was influential and was mostly a positive influence on those that came after him. He created the ability for other players to enjoy Greek life and compete as an athlete while at FSC. He had one meeting with the AD but because he was proactive he had a great experience even though the incident could have caused him grief. He had a violation in the dorms and one of my rules was to meet with the AD before you were called to meet with him. He walked in, the AD asked him if he did it, he said yes, and the AD gave him this advice. “You are 21. Take it off campus and don’t be stupid.” He never had another problem. A valuable lesson was learned that day. Get out in front of the thing that can trip you up and there is always potential for you to catch yourself before you fall. Thanks to Ray we all learned a valuable lesson to be used at other times by our team.

I enjoyed Ray as a human and it will be unlikely that there is ever another one like him. Thanks to him I have words that are engrained in my brain and conversations that will never be put on paper. Between his funky tennis grips, his perspectives on life and parties, and his growth from sophomore to senior he proved that if you keep digging and find a goal that is worth it there is always a chance.

"What We've Got Here is...Failure to Communicate"

The title of tonight’s blog came from a movie that was before my time. I know, I’m getting older but there are still things out there that are older than me. The speech was from the 1967 movie Cool Hand Luke. I remember the speech as the opening from the great Guns N’ Roses song, “Civil War”. I jammed to some of my classic songs the other day and it prompted thoughts on things I felt it was time to get off my chest. Sit back, relax, and maybe, just maybe I will provoke a little thought.

What in the hell are we doing these days. Communication has gone the way of common sense in my humble opinion. I am the first to admit that I am stubborn, full of opinions, and willing to share them with people that I am around. The one thing I am not is belligerent. Actually, most of society isn’t belligerent. There are small groups who scream and everyone turns to see. We live in a society where everything is accessible 24 hours a day and the news cycle is judged in minutes and not days any more. We hear terms like click bait, likes, shares, and viral. The funny thing is for the vast majority of us if our friends know what we are doing and they like to be around us all is well in the world.

This past weekend there was an incident that occurred and has now launched lunacy around the country. Why, because it was given attention. Please do not misconstrue this as a lack of compassion or intelligence toward the modern world. The biggest issue I have is why in the hell is this even going on and why do we give it credence. Okay, many years ago the civil rights of minority groups were legally brought to the same level of those in the majority. A lot of people weren’t happy and wore bland costumes to show their displeasure. Go back even further and a war was fought and the losing side now calls the flag a piece of heritage and not hate. I am from the South and have never thought about that flag as anything other than a piece of history that represented a change in society. If you really look around, really look around the history cloth is not as prominent as those looking for views would lead us to believe. Most of us just want to lead our lives, be successful, find someone to love, and see other places that we have studied.

Seriously though, there are things that we all disagree with. How many times have you been able to affect change on those issues by destroying someone else? I don’t really care how you feel about race, sex, religion, and on and on. The old ways have sailed. Live life, go out and enjoy the wonderful things there are to do, and for God sakes, stop being mean to people that really don’t have any bearing on your life. You may not like them, you may not want to associate with them, they may make you sick to your stomach but they too are going to exist and honestly, they probably feel the same way about you. When you go on with your life you are existing as a mature adult should and are acting like there is some common sense packed in that 8lbs between your ears. The sad thing is there appears to be many people plundering through life that cannot let go of the losing lifestyle. This losing lifestyle is the one where wars were fought, regimes were toppled, laws were changed, and society evolved but they still want to harken back to the way it was in the old days. Why do you want to be on the losing side? Most people want to be winners. Oh yeah, just my opinion but I do not believe we are going to go backwards. It’s not really how the world works. There are more people with the prevailing opinion than there are with these hating few.

I guess all of this is very hard for me to digest because for so much of my life I have been in the world of college. Talk about freaks; college athletes, dancers, academic minded, partiers, multi-sexual, political activist, and on and on. The diverse cultures from around the world and from the magnificent home country astounded me. I’ve heard things that would blow your mind. For some of you, you would probably want to march on their houses. For the rest of us they become friendly conversation pieces that allow us to understand the other ways. Did I like all of it? Of course not. Did some of the opinions and thoughts piss me off? Of course, it did. Did I want to harm them physically or emotionally? No, I wanted to understand why they thought that way and then decide to either stay near them or distant myself from them due to their rhetoric or belief system. Why is this so hard? Why do we give these people a platform? Well, for one it is one or our rights by living in this great country. But what I really mean is this; let them march, espouse their diatribe of beliefs, and if we are not there to see it who gets hurt. Think about this example: You are pissed and vent to your best friend. You are sitting on your couch just fussing to your bestie. You feel better and head to dinner. How many people hear about it? Two! So, let’s expand that example to many of these situations that keep exploding around the country. A group that has beliefs that are outside the norm wants to protest. Okay, they have a right to protest. Let them. They walk the empty streets, carrying their signs, espousing their beliefs, and doing what protesters do. The tree-lined streets are filled with nothing but these people. Guess who knows about these beliefs? Them and only them. Guess who doesn’t get angry because they are hearing these words that grate on their thoughts and soul? The people who are opposed. The reason the event ends in silence is because no one is there to listen. They walk and talk to themselves. We just let them. We then move on with our lives and keep doing what we do. If there was less coverage of these events, heck even no coverage, there would be much less anger permeating through others. It is hard to stay strong and silent when you too believe what they are saying violates the space in which you feel you have a right to be.

I truly don’t understand all the anger towards others in such a public display of stupidity. Yep, I said it. Of course, I have things that I hate and that make me angry but as I have stated multiple times in this little piece I just won’t stoop to the level of display that I am seeing these days. You want to know what makes me mad? Here you go: The guy who tried to hit the Sandhill Cranes the other day. He missed but he made no attempt to move or slow down. The people who cannot put their shopping carts away. For goodness sake, you just walked around an entire grocery store but that extra 20 feet is just too much. What about all of these people that steal? Why is it okay that you have something from someone’s front porch that you didn’t earn? I could go on for hours but the last one is you stupid people that text and drive. Put the damn phone down. You are not hiding it. You are all over the road and I don’t understand how you think that you are so damned important that you can risk my life and those that I love to update your status or even worse watch videos as you are cruising down the road at 65 miles per hour. That’s a post for another day.

People will read this and say that I don’t understand and that we have all these rights to do what is happening. They are correct. I will never argue that. What I will argue is we have fought the wars, changed the laws, and grown as a society so why are there still people who want to go backwards. I will never understand their plight or beliefs because I cannot. I am not wired that way and neither is the majority of society. See that word majority, that is a word that we should think about before we give credit to any of these groups who spew their venomous hate. The majority of people do not feel this way. I know, it takes a majority for things to happen. Most of us straddle the center and lean one way or the other for each issue that is brought up. That is how the majority is formed. These groups are so far one way or the other that a majority can never be established. Stop giving them credence and their rhetoric will be washed away like a lot of our history. We cannot change the history of events but we can dang sure try not to repeat them. Learn from it, don’t destroy it. We need to learn that a “Failure to Communicate” is what got us to the television viewing we have now.

Time Passes...22 Years Just Like That

Time passes and things move along. It didn’t seem that long ago that I was anticipating the start of another season at Florida Southern. Since move in happens next weekend it made me think about where I am, where I am going, and how I got here. It is all good, has been fun at times, adventurous at other times, and just “has been” the rest of the way. I find it funny how we just go about our lives and the days tick off concluding months and then the year passes and we wonder what the hell happened to all that time. We think about what we want to do, think about it some more, talk about it a little more, have discussions with people we love about it, and the year passes. There are those few who actually put the plan down, tackle it with fervor, adjust, and then succeed. We look to them as icons, lucky, and the such but rarely do we realize that it is possible if we stop talking and just do. This is what has led me to here.

I coached. For the past twelve years I was a coach. Most people don’t realize that there was also a five-year span right after graduation that I also was a coach. You see, I talked, I had a great life, an easy life, and then it hit me in the face. After graduation, I passed on the career and went to Europe to play tennis. It was fun, amazing, and at the time fulfilling. It did not, however, lead me to where I wanted to go. Or, maybe it did. The problem was that I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I was fortunate that I had an in at Webber, kind of knew the head coach, and started working there. I also worked at a mail box manufacturer in the shipping department, Winn-Dixie, The Lakeland Yacht Club, and odds and ends but mostly at Webber. Then I fell in love. Damn, women! I then proceeded to lose the main part of my job at Webber which meant I had no way of supporting anybody, not even me.

I was instructed nicely that I should get a job if I would like to have a more committed relationship. This started the real job merry-go-round. I worked at GEICO. Great company, awesome benefits, amazing movement through the ranks, and unbelievable bosses. There were some problems. They had these set working hours, lunch breaks, and weird rules on vacation time (2 weeks). I lasted about two years and decided that I needed some freedom so I started teaching middle school. Summers off, vacation during Christmas, out early, and my new spouse would be on the same schedule. It was awesome until I realized that I might kill a child in the modern world. The wonderful thing about it was that I started my lawn service during this time and it grew so fast that I had two full-time jobs. Cha-ching!!. That lasted almost 3 years when I thought I had my dream job. An agricultural company was hiring and I loved agriculture. Let’s just say I sucked, lasted longer than I should have, and they did the proper thing and fired me.

Oops, no job but the real estate market was on fire and had an in. Yes, another in. My in-laws have been in the industry since I met their daughter. I got my license, started working at their office, made two quick sales, and then………my dad called. Webber had just fired the women’s coach and they needed a part-time coach to get the women’s team though the season. I didn’t want to do it but what the heck, it will be fun and I could do both with no problems. So, I started my coaching career with a team that just was not very good. We drove to Jacksonville for our first match and it was over so quickly that it was too early to eat dinner until we got back to Orlando. The match started at 3:00 and at 4:30 we were leaving the facility. The talent wasn’t very good but they tried hard and we had an enjoyable time. About three matches into the season the men’s coach completed his MBA and was offered a job, that you just can’t pass up, in Connecticut so he left. Now the men’s team didn’t have a coach and the boss said I was going to coach them as well. I have gone from a part-time women’s coach selling real estate to a part-time both teams coach and real estate went bye -bye. The season ended and I was offered the job full-time. For some strange reason, I said yes.

That brought me to the second season at Webber which was fun. I was outside, coaching, and enjoying my family. The summer came and I heard that the men’s coach at FSC had resigned to take another job. I knew that I wasn’t ready, nor did I think I really wanted to coach, but I asked my dad if I could apply for the interview experience. I got called for an interview and it was really intimidating. The AD, Lois Webb, and two assistant AD’s, Pete and Marie asked me questions that I wasn’t sure I had answers for. To be honest it felt like I was being grilled but they were polite and amazingly accommodating. When I left I told myself that it was a valuable experience and that if I kept up with what I was doing at Webber I might have a shot to move divisions one day. Time passed and on a very hot day in the middle of that summer my phone rang while I was teaching a lesson. It was Lois offering me the position of men’s head coach at FSC. I told her yes, I think, and then there was a conversation about discussing with the family first, and some other pleasantries’. Michelle happened to be at the pool with Brianna and she knew. I immediately went to talk to my dad, boss, and all the other things he was about it. As hard as it was I knew it was the right thing. Actually, I didn’t. I truly didn’t know if I wanted to coach tennis. It had been such a big part of my life for so long and there were so many things that I wanted to do that I truly wasn’t sure. The rest is history as I accepted the position and started that Fall. I cannot lie and say it was always easy and joyful but the people I was fortunate to surround myself with made those ten years just fly by. The competition was exhilarating on a yearly basis, the support from the administration was second to none, and the guys on the team made every day worth it.

I woke up one day in August of last year and told Michelle I was done. You know that gut feeling that you get deep inside that says, “it is time” just started to creep in. She told me to think about it and we would discuss it later. January rolled around and I sat Michelle and Brianna down after work one night. I told them that this would be my last season. It was time to join the family business and that was going to be our future. We talked about the decision and what it meant. We talked about when to tell people, how to tell them, and how hard it was going to be to let this part of my life go. Again, time passed and April rolled around and I announced it was time for me to leave. It was an emotional experience and the support I received kept my spirits high. Our season ended a bit prematurely but that just meant that I was closer to being a former coach. Time moved on and my last day came. I have said my good-byes and yes, I shed some tears. I have watched almost 40 players graduate during my ten years. I have seen boys become men, watched them become lawyers, preachers, accountants, tennis coaches, business execs, and pursue their passions. It was an honor to know them and to have a small part in their development. There is never an easy time to go because you are always going to leave people behind. The best you can hope for is that they have learned something from you that they can use in the new challenges.

Time for sure passed, I got a lot older, people I loved have been lost, and our family keeps moving on. One of the big reasons for leaving was to pursue some of the things I have always kept close to my heart. It has been two months and time has passed. Time is never going to stop. Will the excuses? Chase what you want, with what you have, the best way you know how. Learn as you go and don’t be afraid to fail. It actually does work.

His Passion was my Pain in the Ass! But, I Liked Him

When cultures collide it can be beautiful, chaotic, or destructive. Sometimes it can be all things and still somehow co-exist in a teeter-totter type of existence that becomes normal and expected. This is exactly the relationship I had with Jose De Sario. The recent graduate caused me grief on a normal basis but had a passion and love that I wished more players, heck more people, had about things happening in their life.

Jose was one of the guys that came to me like many players do. Some other players had fallen through and I needed a solid player to fill the line-up. I was out of time when I got a call and email from a coach in south Florida. He had this kid that was pretty good and really needed a place to land. When a player is looking for a school at the last minute there are a couple of things going on. One, they aren’t really that good or two, they are bad news. I did my homework and found out that Jose was a national finalist in singles and doubles while a freshman in junior college. He played 4 singles and number 1 doubles while in junior college and had an amazing freshman year. He didn’t have such a great sophomore year but I know the level of the top juco’s and if he lost in the national finals he has some talent. I got a video from the coach and watched it. My first thought was, “This cannot be the same kid. He is a little fat and really doesn’t look like a national caliber player.” My other thought was; “well, he won’t be a number one but he is steady enough to be a good 5 or 6.” After some contemplation I thought, “What the hell, let’s go for it.”

His arriving and being ready to go were not the smoothest of scenarios. Between transcripts, I-20’s, schedules, flights, and every other thing that goes into bringing in a player it was a mad rush. You see, none of this started until the 1st of August and we started school in the middle of August. We had to rush everything but somehow, we made it happen. When things go this fast the player better pay off. I knew it would, or at least that is what I told everyone I could tell. Well, the fall did not set the stage for the talented player I thought I had stolen. At this point I thought that all those red flags truly meant something and I was just too naïve to believe them.

After a lackluster fall, he had lost some favor with his teammates and a little with me. Although his teammates felt that I was giving him preferential treatment I believed I would get from him what I needed. He was a smooth talker and I truly enjoyed speaking to him about life, politics, and other things that had nothing to do with athletics. The problem with all of this was that I needed him to perform and not be my best friend. We started the season against Stetson and Jose started the season at number 4. Just above where I thought he would play. I say that but I am going to conflict myself and tell all of you that I thought he was good enough to play number one. I just didn’t see the desire for him to try any harder so I put him where I thought he would have success. All of that changed after the first match. He won in straight sets while the rest of the team lost. We had a fairly substantial break after our first match so I did a little sleight of hand and moved him to number two for the second match. He lost that next match but then he started winning. He went 15-6 on the season and 13-4 at number 2 for the year. He had some huge match wins and some tight situations that as a coach were not always my favorite. The one thing that I could never doubt was his desire to be on top of the situation. This was also the flaw that haunts him today.

Continuing that first season was his ability to play doubles. His personality was hard and there was only one player that could put up with him and his demands. His partner that season was Brian Slivonik and he will have his own story a bit down the road. The two of them started the season at number 2 but finished the season at number 1. They amassed a record of 15-10 with a 9-7 record while playing number 1. They played the toughest teams and never found themselves out of a match. They were both so arrogant, proud, and damn tough that they just didn’t think they would lose. Jose was named to the Sunshine State Conference All-Conference team in singles and doubles. He was also named the MVP for the team that first year. To say it was all roses would be a lie but he put in the work when the work was needed.

Moving into his senior season Jose would come back in the same position that he left. Jose also had other things that were weighing on his mind as well. You see, Jose is from Venezuela and if you haven’t been living under a rock you understand that things in that country aren’t really going that well. The economic situation was causing a burden to his family and the fact that they were there and he was at FSC didn’t help the matter. He had a great professor around him that is politically savvy. Dr. Anderson kept a leash on Jose as best he could and between school, internship, and tennis his fall was filled. He actually played some this past fall but still didn’t play as much as I would have liked. Once the season kicked off Jose started at number two singles. The problem with doubles was that he and his partner just weren’t seeing eye to eye and I created two pretty good teams without him involved. There is always more to the story and this is one of those times.

Jose was a high-flying singles player who dominated the court with his explosive forehand. He used his two-handed backhand to maintain the point but would laser one if the mood hit him. The problem started when he developed a wrist injury in his left hand which would not allow him to hit his two-handed backhand. Not to be deterred he just simple started hitting a one-handed slice and occasionally ripping topspin one handers. This was great for singles but caused a huge weakness in doubles. When you have a player that is this talented it purely sucks to not have them on the court so I devised the idea of putting him at number 3 doubles. I was sure that I could find someone who could play to his level and put up with his shenanigans to give us three amazing doubles teams. This experiment went on for almost the entire season and statistically was a rousing failure. I tried six partners and not one panned out. A lot of it was his fault but a lot also was the fact that the guys he played with got so tight they could not even play their normal level. Luckily the top two teams pulled the weight and Jose was still tough as nails in the singles. Even with the bad wrist Jose still had a winning record at number 2 singles for the year.

As much as I lost sleep with Jose on the tennis court I truly enjoyed my time with him at FSC. He was a big-hearted guy who lives in a 24/7 passionate state. He is addicted to his phone, loves his country, and wants a lot out of life. When graduation was approaching we had many conversations about what was next. He was going to have to take some classes over the summer to get his diploma so we were trying to figure out how to get that done in the least painful way. He wasn’t sure if he was going to get his MBA, go home and fight for freedom, head to Europe, or become an entrepreneur and dream about success. Well, he headed home against my wishes but is back in the states currently. He completed his necessary classes and received his diploma in July. He still doesn’t know what he wants to do but I know at some point he will figure that out as well. He pained me a lot but if he ever shows up we will talk for hours because I liked the depth of our conversations. He was a great training partner for me and I will believe this forever because I can never be proved wrong; he could have been top 20 in the country if he truly wanted it. He didn’t because he wanted something else and he is still looking for it but what he found was a place where he could be free if even just for two years.

I hope one day he finds joy on the courts again, a country he can raise a family, and a passion for his career like he had to get to the level he was at when he was playing for himself. It is always better when you do things for yourself.

Put in the Work and Make it Happen

“Coach, what do I need to do to play next year?” This was the question posed to me by a somewhat downtrodden freshman at the end of his first year at FSC. My answer was as follows; “You need match play. Just tough matches under your belt.” There are many times in a coaching career that advice is wanted but it is rare when it is actually followed. Sometimes it is even followed too well. Tonight, is the rundown of Brian deMontfort who came in with raw talent and the desire to make it happen.

When I started at FSC I was fortunate to have a talented team assembled. The former coach also had recruited a couple of Florida players who were ready to take on the world. One of them was Brian. Brian wasn’t ranked very high in the Florida USTA but he had a passion for the game. He was a rarity. He had a one handed backhand and liked coming to the net. Somewhat of a throwback player in the modern ages. The one thing Brian lacked was tough match play. During his freshman season, he didn’t play much. He got some matches but wasn’t a daily match guy. He traveled with the team but was a bit inside himself.

Rewind now to the first paragraph. He wanted more and with the departure of a couple of key guys there was an opening. You never know if the player really wants it or if they just want you to hear it. I’ve always felt that the proof would be in the results the following season. The summer was moving along and I went to see one of the tournament matches he was playing. It wasn’t much better but the grind was good for him. As we neared the fall the proof happened. He came in hot. Real hot. He wasn’t in the top six his freshman year and now in practice he was knocking off established guys and even had a little swagger about him. He went through the fall still hot but the season was months away. As we rolled into spring something was happening and I felt guilty even thinking it. Brian was going to start the season at number 2. This didn’t even make sense. He was a man on a mission and he had toughened himself up. There is one problem when you work so hard for a goal. Once you have achieved it you must continue to push or it falls off. In sports we call it peaking. Brian peaked way to early and fell off. He ended the spring season at six or just out of the lineup but he made it through the year.

Going into his junior year we talked about taking some time off and not working so hard during the summer. The fall came and we had another stacked lineup. Brian didn’t have much success in singles but he was a mainstay in doubles. During all is training he had developed a little glitch in his serve. It would just disappear for games at a time. It affected him mentally and I probably didn’t help his cause at all. How could this kid bust his ass to get to the level he wanted and loose his serve in the process. Although his singles game wasn’t great during his junior year he was still integral in the overall team success.

Let’s take a break from the tennis for a moment and talk about the guy that is Brian. His freshman year we didn’t even know if he could talk. Then the fall of his sophomore season came. We were in Valdosta, GA for the Fall ITA tournament. We went to dinner at Ruby Tuesday and someone introduced Brian to strawberry lemonade. I guess the sugar in the 3-8 glasses of strawberry lemonade set off the Brian we would know for the next three years. He was a maniac. Oh yeah, he could talk too. He became just another one of the guys and boy let me tell you they could have some fun.

Like all players who play at a high-level Brian had his share of injuries. The most annoying was his shoulder. It would just cause discomfort and hinder the ability to make great gains. It was also mentally debilitating for him. His senior year was one that had the highest of highs and lowest of lows. He was back near the top of the singles line up but not really having success. It was frustrating for him and myself to say the least. Where he shined though was in doubles. He had the opportunity to play number one doubles and he didn’t waste it. It wasn’t national ranking caliber but let me tell you, playing number one doubles in the Sunshine State Conference on a ranked team is no small fete. Every player you play against is tough as nails and nothing comes easy. He and his partner ended up with a winning record and that in itself is awesome.

Brian was a delightful story in college athletics. He believed he deserved an opportunity, put in the work, and earned that spot. He also knew that when things were not going his way that he was going to be replaced, and when he was he worked at it and tried his damnedest to earn it back. I don’t ever remember him complaining about the lack of playing time or where he was playing. He was a blue-collar player with a heart for competing. Today he is still in the game near Atlanta. He coaches with the same passion that he played with while at FSC. He is married to his college sweetheart Kim and they have a great life together. I enjoyed Brian as a player and even more as a human being. When people ask me if it is possible I throw the story of Brian out to them. If you have talent and are willing to put in the work at some point you will get your shot. You must be ready when your name is called.

My Lack of Consistency was Consistent

“If you fall down seven times make sure you get up eight.” The quote goes something like that. This is the way I feel about this blog. Consistency is positive or negative. When you don’t do something on a regular basis you are consistently doing that thing. I have been treating my blog poorly on a consistent basis. I will not lie and say that it will be daily but it will be more consistently put out then it has been being put out in the recent past. Now that I am not coaching I really need to finish writing about each of the players that have been a part of the program at Florida Southern. There are also other people and things that interest me daily and I will spout about them as well.

I was sending out an email earlier this week on my personal account and I realized that my signature still said: Trey Heath, Head Men’s Tennis Coach, Florida Southern College, GO MOCS! Oops, I should probably change that. It then dawned on me that all my social media platforms also had that I was a coach in the college realm. It is funny what brings back memories or how something so trivial can bring on a positive or negative emotional response. Changing careers is something I was excited about for a long time and since I have been working with Michelle I have had a blast watching her do her job and learning the industry from her perspective. Well, I changed my employment but I even caught flack for that. I listed myself as the back-office assistant. I am not a realtor and I do work in the background so I thought it fit perfectly. At some point, I will be a realtor and I will put that as my title. I am also a husband, a dad, a wanna be athlete, an entrepreneur, and probably some other things to some people but since I listed myself as an assistant I had people questioning my motives. No motives, just me being me and realizing I am not the boss at this point. It is awesome not having to make those tough calls after 12 years of making them day in and day out.

There will be a time that I make those decisions but it is kind of fun having a little vacation while in the workplace. Michelle is teaching me her methods and getting to know the clientele is fun and hard at the same time. It is eerily like recruiting and coaching. The best part of the change has been the time I have gotten to spend with my wife and daughter. We have battled through some interesting times these past couple of months but really haven’t missed a beat. Change doesn’t always happen when you want but it always happens when it needs to. As a family, this was a change that we needed, the ironic thing is we didn’t know it when I made my decision to the family in January. Coaching gave me so much and the two institutions, Webber International and Florida Southern, that gave me a home for so many years will always have a place in my heart that will live on for a long time. Heck, I still have green polos and red and grey polos that I wear all the time.

The next time I write it will be about a former player but tonight I just wanted to say hello. Go make tomorrow great and we will chat again soon.