I Just Can't Hide It

Angst, excitement, frustration, euphoria, pleasure, and complete abhorrence are some of the emotions we have as an emotional species. Heck, many of you probably had those today, and even some that I missed. Excitement is what I am pondering this beautiful evening. Getting excited, staying excited, and of course, when the excitement fails you. Let’s start with the sadness that excitement, when it wanes, can cause.

Today, I was pumped all day. It is a feeling that I had since Monday. The day had been planned down to the last detail and was going along perfectly. The morning had gone as planned, lunch and dog walking for my mom happened at the perfect time, and the afternoon workflow was perfect. I was getting excited about the hours ticking away as the time neared for the final part of the great evening. You see, Michelle and I were going to watch a little baseball this evening. Not major league opening day baseball, but the kind where the dream starts for the kids and maybe, even some of the parents. Little league baseball was the destination. There is nothing like four fields going at the same time. Foul balls flying around, hamburgers, hotdogs, French fries, sodas, bubble gum in all the bleachers, and parents cheering on their little rug rats. It is a fantastic way to spend the evening, catch up with friends, and support the team that is wearing your name. Except, I didn’t read the schedule correctly and there wasn’t a game tonight due to spring break. Oops! I found this out about 3:30pm when Michelle called to give me the sad/bad news.

Excitement is something I don’t show well. Michelle has prepared some great meals over our almost two decades together. I mean, they are delicious, and I have enjoyed each one but for the first few years, she didn’t think I liked them because of my lack of, wait for it……. excitement. As I stated, I loved them, but she would ask, and I would tell her that they were great. It wasn’t what I said, it was the inflection that threw her off. After a few years she realized that I didn’t get excited to that level very often. This is still the case. My excitement stays internalized for most things. There are things that really get me going, I mean really get me going, but it is rare that I show it, say it, or let my emotions give away the internalized feelings. Kids chasing their dreams does get me excited. They play because they love the game, have a chance to be a hero, and if they win, (thanks Flo), they get ice cream with sprinkles. What can be more exciting than that. The crack of the metal bat, some pip squeak chasing butterflies in the outfield, and miscues that lead to an amazing number of runs makes the games a fun distraction from the everyday life.

There are other things that get me excited. Some of them are personal, others are familial, and others are from afar. I love racing. Really love racing. I will get up at anytime of the morning to go watch a race. Actually, this is beginning to suck a bit because I hate just being a spectator. There was a time, many, many, years ago, that I was a fairly good BMX racer. When I hit my thirties, I decided to buy a dirt bike and go off-road racing. Not good would be a strong statement but possibly an accurate depiction of my skills on a motorcycle. Starting in the beginners was where it was at for the first year. I then moved to the “C” level on a YZ125. I never won a race but did finish second once. That second was awesome, but I wasn’t even close to first. After finishing third in the series I bumped myself up to the “B” class and purchased a YZ250. New bike, faster kids, and even worse butt kicking’s but I looked forward to every weekend of racing with my wife and daughter. It was our time and doing my best every time was what drove me. After a couple of years of trying to compete with the kids, I decided to join the ranks of the old men but when you are slow you still finish where you are going to finish. I think I finished fifth once, but it didn’t matter. Those weekends gave me something to look forward to thirteen times a year. The anticipation of each race, the excitement of race weeks, and the soreness after each race were the catalyst that made me want more. Going to the races now, as a spectator, is fantastic but it only fuels the excitement of doing it again myself.

Having joy in your life is such a strong pulling power. This feeling helps push through hard tasks, eases the burden of crappy work, and even give you something to look forward to after a wonderful week in the trenches. Building excitement around something that pushes you forward is a terrific way to reach for those goals you may have been putting off because you just couldn’t find the reason to strive for it. Excitement can cause let down, if the dream is deadened for a bit, but if the goal is big enough the down times will be lessened and if the potential excitement is strong enough the doldrums will wane, and your positive emotions will again swell that feeling inside that can only be quenched when the event reaches fruition.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash
Photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash

Fifty Years Comes and Goes: Make Your Mark

Time appears to pass inexplicably quickly. It just seems like yesterday I was coaching the midpoint of the season at FSC, preparing for the conference tournament with one last shot at regional glory. The only problem with that flashback is that it is nearly a year since I announced to the administration and the guys that I was exiting coaching stage left. Those moments are engrained in my conscience but the time marches on as the people involved chase the new dreams and the next goals put forth. This one example is just a personal note on something that happens to all of us at some point during our daily existence.

50 years seems like such a long time. Many milestones occur at this numeral because it is just amazing that things, groups, couples, businesses, or events last that long. For goodness sake, one of my first crushes turned 50 this year. It was simply a boy enamored with an older lady, and it was a long time ago. Heck, my mother is eagerly anticipating her 50th high school reunion. That is amazing. I’ve been out 28 years and it still seems like a long time to get to that mark. The golden years are approaching much quicker than like years past. Turning 50 was such a long way off, but now I am only a few years away and can almost taste that McDonald’s senior coffee, silver checking, and my AARP membership. Oh geez, I guess that means I will be taking my young wife to the early bird specials.

A couple of weeks ago, I accompanied my dad to his 51st Sebring 12 Hours. They have only had 66 of them, so for a nearly 70-year-old, he hasn’t missed too many of them. Things happen at such a fast pace now, how many things will last 50 years as we move forward. Companies come and go, traditions continued to be lessened, and with the advent of the 24 news, life, and trend cycle, we are fortunate if things last five years. Some of my most favorite music is 30 to 40 years old. How many songs in the past 10 years are even memorable. Shoot, only 12 percent, or around 60 of the fortune 500 companies that made the list in 1955 are still around. Times change, but truly good things do last. I hope that we continue to hang on to some of them.

As I approach closer to that magical number, I’m still a few years off, I realize how much I have seen and how much has happened. Go back to your Google, Bing, or whatever search engine tickles your fancy and see what has happened in the past 50 years. Too many to recount in this cheesy piece of reflection. There was a time, in my late teens, early twenties, and maybe even when I first started coaching in my late thirties, that I thought 50 was old. You must get fat, grey, wrinkly, and completely give up on chasing dreams. There is only one problem. I’m damn near that milestone and the dreams are bigger than ever. The weight is coming off slowly, the hair isn’t grey but bald may be my new beautiful, and wrinkly may be caused by the years of sun damage. I don’t feel older. Well, I don’t feel older until I try to do what I used to do at the levels I used to do it. The mind is clear, the thoughts pure, but the realization that the body doesn’t want to do it has become a bit more apparent.

Think back to the last thing you were a part of that was around for 50 years. It could be the house you live in, your parents, the business you work for, or some other thing that has survived through the ages. All of those are set in their ways. Stubborn, proud, and marching on through the modern transitions that happen quicker and quicker. People become set in their ways. Why do they need a smartphone? They don’t trust technology always and don’t grasp all that is happening around them. Events and businesses, at times, act the same way. However, there are those moments where lights go off in the corporate brain and a corporate tummy tuck, facelift, or mid-life crisis occurs and the way they move forward changes. Even with the stodginess and prestige they have earned, they realize that time marches on and the virtual doors will only stay open if they embrace the necessary changes.

Fifty years comes and goes every day for people, businesses, and events. We should honor the achievement. Yes, humans want more and hope to enjoy many more years of productivity. I am curious as time continues to pick up speed how many businesses and events will stand the test of time and reach that monumental milestone. It is my hope that many will grow, adapt, and achieve that success but if recent history is any indicator we may get to the point that a ten-year celebration is a big deal. Who knows? I will be pumped for anything I am involved in to hit that marker. And yes, celebrate I will.

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Sometimes the Product isn't Good; Tonight's One of Those Nights.

Not everyday that I write do I have great thoughts cruising through my brain or out my fingers. Tonight is one of those nights. Don't worry about reading it. There will be a better one next time. It doesn't even warrant pictures.

Hurray, it is Friday. I sit here alone at the computer on a Friday night to put out my latest thought stream. People get so pumped for the weekend. For over a decade and half I have no idea what that means. The same people also curse Monday. Heck, doesn’t that mean that you are moving towards another weekend that you are so looking forward to again? I truly don’t get it because of the life I chose many years ago and the life I have recently attached as my future livelihood. I get it, when I was in school, sales, teaching, and the corporate world the weekend was manna from heaven. Two nights and two days of no responsibilities and fun for 48 hours. Sunday night would roll around and the toys got put away and the begrudging thoughts of another week crept into our psyche. The only problem for me is that I don’t remember what that is like. Weekends were just another work day.

Don’t get me wrong; it is fun to hang out with your peers on a “normal” schedule but that just wasn’t how it was or how it will be for me. There are advantages though. The lake isn’t nearly as crowded on a random weekday. Neither is the golf course. Walmart though, it is crowded all the time. Also, it is great that you can get out on the lake or golf course, but it is hard to ski by yourself. Bass fishing is okay, but that is about it. Golfing is much faster by yourself, but it is never good to drink alone. By the way, the cabernet sauvignon this evening is very nice. It really sounds as if I am complaining but it is far from it. I have never minded the odd schedule. When I worked in the college world, summers were very slow, so the week was perfect for frivolous activities, or used for making some side cash. The weekends, even in the summer were used for going to tournaments looking for the next talented player. In the new career of real estate, people want to see houses at the damnedest of times. After 5pm on weekdays and at any daylight hour on the weekend. It is like we open the doors at 4:30 every afternoon and keep them open all weekend.

I’ve pondered frequently what it would be like to have the normal Monday through Friday schedule. It sounds, at times, appealing. However, it is really cool to get up from my desk at noon on any given day and leave the office. Freedom to move about the area at any time. Oh wait, you can leave but you cannot hide. With the advent of this innovative technology we are available anywhere. This was the same in coaching. Players from around the world would call at all hours of the day or night. Somehow, they would misjudge the time difference and really need to get that call into you at 12:30am or maybe 5:30 the same morning. I cannot remember if any of those calls earned scholarships or not. The same thing happens in real estate. Random phone calls on listings at 11:30pm. Really, do you head off to the car lot or maybe your dentist at 11:30 at night. Look, don’t touch. I’m just kidding. We love those calls and if we don’t take them some other hungry agent will scoop them up, change out of their pajamas and go show them the damn property. Fantastic job guys. Keep up the hustle so we cannot rest at all.

If you’ve read this far it sounds a little bit like a gripe session. It is not. I love it, find it humorous, and enjoy the challenges that are presented. The freedoms we have gained from all this technology is mind boggling. It has really allowed us ease of everything. Surely, in the next few years it will also make us all smarter, more caring, and less abrasive to our fellow man. I firmly believe, that in the next few years we will also realize what fools we have been and want to reconnect with humans instead of just screens. Don’t get me wrong, the technology is awesome and will only get better but for a vast majority of people the ability to communicate, share, and survive with another human next to them has been lost. At some point, sanity will prevail, and we will use the technology for improvement and convenience. All this stuff has stopped us from having the free time we used to enjoy. My favorite phrase I hear at least everyday is this: “I am so busy!” Really, doing what? What are you so busy doing now that five years ago you weren’t doing? Stop being so accessible to beeps, dings, and the screen that barely fits in your pocket. Sit down, relax, I mean really relax, and speak to someone eye to eye. It is a lost art.
Well shoot, I’ve just rambled on for the past 844 words and don’t know what I accomplished. Okay, I like my non-Monday through Friday schedule. It is my norm. I appreciate that others like their schedule. I love what I currently do but think having parameters for engagement is not out of line and I think technology is great but has become an excuse for “busyness” and not actually helped with productivity. You’ll have a great weekend on the lake, links, or “honey do list”. I’m going to go shovel some poop, sell some houses, and answer random calls all weekend. Don’t feel sorry, not that you do, next Wednesday is looking sweet for a quick escape. Enjoy your family and create your adventure, whenever and wherever you can.

For Kirk Kucin, Success Took Time: Another Story About an FSC Alum

Being an underdog has been something I have embraced most of my life. Yes, there were times I was expected to be the dominant athlete but most of the time I was known as a scrappy competitor. When I started coaching, I looked for this type of athlete as well. The player that was unheralded, non-touted, and a bit rough around the edges. Don’t get me wrong, the great players were awesome, but they knew it, and they also knew that they belonged. Watching the underdog earn his cred was a fun experience as a coach. Tonight, the story is about the underdog that didn’t make his dent directly on the courts but had a lasting effect on the team. Kirk Kucin, this is my memory.

Walk-on players were always an important part of the roster while at FSC. The scholarship athlete was the bread and butter but there was always space on the roster for the guy who was willing to come in, go through the process, and attempt to earn his spot on the playing roster and possibly a scholarship. Each of these guys had their own personality and ego. Each and every one felt like they would get the shot they thought they deserved, would be noticed, and would earn the right to have the scholarship that was withheld from them when they entered the program. Kirk was one of those guys. When I first met Kirk, it was a riveting experience. Bright red hair, bubbly personality, and a massive belief system. The little bit of research I did on him led me to think that he would be a nice addition to the bottom side of the roster and maybe he would he would see some scrub action during the busy March months throughout his four year stay.

Back to that first meeting with Kirk. He wanted to come watch the team play a competitive match so he came to a match at the Lakeland City Courts. We were watching matches and talking about what he wanted from a team. I’ve heard it all before, but as a coach you really want to hear it again from another wanna be walk-on hero. There is a bit of tongue and cheek in those comments. I loved when players thought they could punch their way through the teeth of the line-up. Kirk was no different. As we watched players battle I asked the proverbial question; “Where do you think you fit in with this line-up you see out here today?” What I was waiting for was a response about giving it his all and over the next couple of years really trying to make a dent in the line-up. Kirk, being Kirk, gave me the response, that at the time was outrageous, but as the years went along really fit him perfectly. His response was, “I feel that I can be top six on this team.” I hope I smiled but I am sure there was a bit of shock on my face as I picked my jaw up off the grass next to court 14.

Kirk arrived in the fall of his freshmen year and didn’t really make that dent that he thought he was going to make. He did enjoy the college life though. There were some incredible stories that he and other teammates would share about their adventures when they had off time. He was enjoying freedom and he learned a lot about life that freshmen season. Sometimes, when you pay people like you even more. So much so, that you think you are in love. There were many laughs about that. Kirk was our only redhead so Ray, a player I have already written about, created nicknames for almost every player. In not such an ironic way, Kirk became Ronald McDonald. He embraced it. There were pictures of Kirk with Ronald, real and the statues. Somehow, and to this day we don’t know how, the athletic page on one or our sites had the profile for Kirk as Ronald McDonald. We were able to get it changed, but it happened and there were more giggles.

Resilience, determination, and desire were great trademarks of Kirk. He never really made an impact to the line-up as a player. He was, however, a badass in the gym and on our training runs. He found his role and did it to perfection. He was so good on the runs that he eventually became a two-player athlete at FSC and ran for the FSC track team during their season. During his four years at FSC Kirk had an overall record of 4-1 in singles competition and 3-0 in doubles. Although he wasn’t the player he had hoped to be he found his role as a gym partner and running rabbit. The scholarship players hated getting beat by someone who wasn’t at their level on the court. Even though there wasn’t success as a player he filled a role that I admired, so he was always relevant. Also, I liked him a lot. He just wanted more in life. He worked hard to get his grades up and earned Academic All-American status his last three years on campus. He was entrepreneurial as well.

He decided to save some money and rented a house off campus with some buddies. To better save money, he bought a scooter. The kicker was, his scooter looked like a miniature Harley. He would cruise around and even give the bikers the low wave while cruising through the Lakeland city streets. He would brag how he could fill it up with the change from his Honda’s cup holder. On one occasion, he even rode it back home to Clearwater. Yes, he rode his scooter from Lakeland to Clearwater. Let that sink in for a bit. He mapped out his route. All back roads. It would only do 35 mph, so this was a slow roll. The hour to hour and fifteen-minute trip took him four hours. That was Kirk.

As a player rolls through the program, you look, listen, and pay attention to what he is doing going towards his future. Kirk was out there. He didn’t really have great direction as to what he wanted to do but he was willing to try anything. He joined a fraternity, helped me with the off-court tennis stuff, worked for a golf cart shuttle service on the beach, did umbrella rentals, ran track, and probably other things that I have missed. Graduation came, and Kirk had done it. Now, real life was beginning. He started his first job and that wasn’t it. He took a chance and moved to Charlotte to go work for an equipment rental company. He was in the management training program, so it was in-depth. He would send me pictures of being up on the top of cherry picker lifts, driving steam rollers, using jack hammers, and multiple other pieces of equipment. Somehow, this beach boy, red head free spirit, found equipment rentals suited him. He is currently still with that company and now lives in Colorado. Awesome, is an understatement on how he is doing. The scooter has been upgraded to an adventure bike and the pictures from those trips are breathtaking. Awards were not plentiful when he attended FSC, but he has become an incredible success in the working world. Out of 168 sales managers in his area, he was number one last year. Because of his desire to take the time and try things out of his comfort zone he found his niche. Not only has he proven that he can make it as the underdog he is also a big CrossFit athlete. He let me know he was competing in the CrossFit open for 2018. Whether or not he makes it to the next round really isn’t important. This will only be a catalyst for the next opportunity that comes his way. Kirk was a player who came through the program, but now I am proud to call him a friend that I watched become the man he is today. Congrats Kirk! You have earned what comes your way.

Photo by Zoltan Kovacs on Unsplash
Photo by Eric Welch on Unsplash

Oh Good Heavens, I am Getting Old

Tomorrow is the 66th annual 12 Hours of Sebring. Last year I had the honor of being there with my dad for his 50th 12 Hours race that he had been in attendance. During the day, I had the constant feelings of how long 50 years of doing something, attending something, heck, even being 50 years old was. It was a wonderful day at the races. Many things have changed from the wild and wooly days of the great race, but it is still a party with a world class endurance race taking place at the same time.

Last night, I was confronted with my aging self directly from the mouths of babes. Michelle and I decided awhile ago we wanted to go to a concert. Michelle booked our hotel room and got us tickets to the event. You see, it was on a work night, so we had to work half the day, drive over to Orlando, get checked in to our hotel, make sure we knew where the venue was, get a nice dinner, then take our blankets and chairs to the venue to watch the great show. We are big fans of Aaron Lewis, and he was going to be performing at the Orlando Amphitheater during the Central Florida Fair. That is a field trip for us, so we came prepared.

I grew up with Staind, the rock band that Aaron fronted. This was pure rock n’ roll. They were formed in 1995 and kind of went their separate ways in 2011. Aaron decided he was going to pursue a career in country music, he wasn’t bad, his YouTube presence is great, so I continued to enjoy his music through the transition. Fast forward to last night and the concert Michelle and I were going to attend. It was going to be him, and his country band and they were touring in support of his newest country album “Sinner”. After a great dinner we eased our way to the concert and found great parking away from possible dings from others. You know, we are older and want to make sure our investments our safe from the wild youth of today. We took ten minutes to make sure we had our chairs and blankets secured so we could walk into the venue. As we strolled in the cool evening air we were overtaking by a group of six younger kids who were bouncing into the same que we were headed. Being inquisitive, I asked them if they knew Aaron Lewis as the country singer or as the lead singer of Staind? They responded, country singer. The next few minutes were old man gold.

The females in the group asked, “What is Staind?” “You mean he was in another group?” The boys said, “What, he was a rock singer?” I said yes, and then I had to stop and pee in the porta-potty located outside the ticket booth. Yes, I am old, and my bladder has about a pint of holding tank. Michelle waited outside and told me upon my exit that the kids continued trying to figure out what in the hell I had just blown their minds with. Fast forward to the concert and he made multiple mentions that the song he was going to sing was one that he had written 20 to 25 years ago. The first thought that went through my head was, “I wonder what these kids are thinking?” “Has this guy been trying to make it as a country artist this long?” I hope that they figured it out at some point, or at least Googled it at some point in the evening.

For years, I have been able to put off the inevitable. I am getting old. My daughter can almost drive without my attention, email is passé, Facebook is for old fogies like me, and kids today don’t even remember what rock n’ roll was or who sang it. It is okay. Those times produced some of the best music and originality that ever existed. The hair is thinner, I get mad at aggressive drivers, and I think having an early breakfast at a country diner sounds like a fantastic way to go. I love the progress technology has made. It is awesome to watch events I cannot go to on my phone, pay for events by showing my phone to the ticket taker, and using GPS versus a map makes getting unlost much easier. However, everyone says that it takes years to gain wisdom. That part I would not pass up. It is so true. As a youngster, I would have worked all day, grabbed some McDonald’s, and rushed to get to the show. I would have paid for the outrageous beer and food at the event and slammed myself up against a stage of pot smoking, alcohol fueled kids, and sung every song. I would have then headed back to little BP and gone to work this morning like nothing happened. Wait, part of that doesn’t sound so bad. Nah, the wisdom gained over the years, the preparation executed, and the knowledge to know better led to a great night with my beautiful wife and a 24-hour get away that was desired by both.

Youth is awesome. I cannot wait until those kids are my age and they head off to the virtual concert and some kid they don’t know has no clue that Justin Bieber was a YouTube sensation found by Usher. Oh, to be young again. It was a great night, followed by an incredibly relaxing morning. Thanks baby, for helping us have the wisdom to do it the best way an old married couple can do it. What’s next?

mine--at concert
Photo by Marie-Sophie Tékian on Unsplash

Let the Sun Shine on Me!

“The sun will come out tomorrow.” This great line of thought came from the orphaned philosopher, Annie. Profound truisms are not only life affirming but seen on every other social media post out there these days. Damn right, the sun is going to come out tomorrow. It comes out every day. In some areas it is longer and in other areas it is shorter. I know, that is not the message from Annie, but it is in the same vein. There will be another chance to start over, have a fresh start, look forward to a new beginning, or any other thing that refreshes itself on a routine basis. Looking at it from its literal sense is just the way I roll. The sun will come out tomorrow.

My entire problem isn’t with this phrase. I find it optimistic and live by receiving those second or fiftieth chances to start fresh and new. The issue I have is the time that the daggum sun comes up so blooming late. Don’t get me wrong. I love DST (Daylight Savings Time) because in my youth it meant that the time outside was a lot longer. Summer time on the water or at the courts was extended and it even meant we could squeeze in another 18 after our first round. So, before you think I am fussing please understand that I do like it. Here is my rub. Why do I want to have it all year round? When we have regular Eastern Standard Time, we have great mornings. Those sunrises are just spectacular. This morning, I was leaving the barn after 7:15 and the sun was just starting to creep up. There is nothing wrong with this, but everything has its season. If we have this time for our entire year, what do we really gain?

There are many things that piss me off about our national and state legislatures but tonight it is all about the state issue. Unbelievably, this idea of having DST for the entire year has made it to the governor’s desk for signing. Really, this is the top issue affecting our state currently? I won’t even touch on the current hot button topic because it is an emotional powder keg that needs to simmer with rational thought and millions of lobby dollars on either side. Instead I will just focus on this lunacy of making a made-up time system our forever time system. It would fit. We are the state that is the butt of jokes throughout the country. People know us for three things. One is Disney, two is Miami, and three is weird crimes. Just Google it. For God’s sake, between meth mouth crimes, housing pet gators, eating people’s faces off, we have made quite a name for ourselves. Now, we want to use a made-up time so that people (tourists) can spend more daylight hours outside. Please don’t think this is nothing more that a political move to increase tourism for our visitors. I know, we rely on those tourism dollars, so we can stay afloat as a state. Some weird ass pest has destroyed our citrus, other countries have figured out how to grow the same things we do less expensively, and businesses are contracting or moving off shore. I get all that. So, what you are telling me is that if we have this new time for the entire year, we will get more tourist interaction and that will mean my state will be even better? Awesome, so my roads will be fixed and fluid? Our teachers and police officers will get great raises and be able to work in inviting environments? Oh yeah, when the CEO from Acme, Inc. comes to visit the beaches and the big mouse, he will be so enamored that he will make a billion-dollar commitment and move his entire business here. Well, that would be awesome. If that is the case, heck, let’s really go crazy. Let’s just take Pacific time and let everyone stay out until 10pm at the beach. We can make it to mid-morning in the dark.

I am not bitter at all about this stupid piece of legislation. The fact that I wrote piece of legislation is enough to see my point. There aren’t more urgent things we need to deal with in the Sunshine State? Our traffic sucks, our public services are in shambles, our teachers want to quit, and there aren’t enough high-quality jobs available in one of the largest states in the greatest country in the world, but we have a bill to change our time on the Governor’s desk. This fact speaks volumes of the current state of government. There is no anger at all. It is actually quite amusing. We spend so much time yelling at one another from our right post or left post that we forget most things happen when we compromise somewhere near the middle. We all have our thoughts and that is what makes us great. Instead of looking at this idiotic piece of legislation we still want to argue our points to an ear numb public. We should force our legislators to work on genuine issues instead of fake time gains. Really, there are things that we want done that can make real change. I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise though. Our greatest enjoyment comes from watching fake real television shows and listening to pundits on our side spout their money-making verbiage. Think about it. Television execs make their money by putting out products we demand. We demand fake television. Right-wing and left-wing pundits have made millions because they figured out that their segment of followers would support them. This led to lucrative endorsements. Heck, if you paid me millions, I might believe that having a stupid fake time system would be perfect for our great running state.

As I have stated a couple of times, there is no anger in this little post at all. It is really just entertaining. There are so many people who don’t pay attention to anything except their next pay check and which Friday night establishment has the best Happy Hour that they forget that there are people in Tallahassee, that they elected, well at least a few did, who are determining their future. They will bitch and moan when it affects them, but at that point it is too late. Oh well, peace be unto you all. And just remember, the sun will come out tomorrow. It just may be a few hours later.

Photo by Daniel Chen on Unsplash
Photo by Patrick Brinksma on Unsplash

Thoughts from the Concrete Trail

Blue skies, cooler temperatures, Spring around the corner, and I grind away at my beautiful desk with no windows. There is this weird sound that Michelle and I are haunted by periodically each day but the busyness of the tasks and the thought of what is beyond helps to block it out. So, does a good set of headphones. Of course, I am sitting at my home desk pounding on the keys, pondering the next post while I jam to Lindsey Stirling on my SMS headphones. The next post could have easily been about the next player I was going to highlight, but those take a lot of thought, consideration, and time to construct. Tonight, it’s good music, some simplistic thoughts, and typical ramblings out of the cranium that is mine.

It is funny what happens throughout a day. Not just mine, but everyone’s. Do you ever notice it? I know we are all wrapped up in our own little world, however, take a deep breath, look left and right, open your ears, and you will be amazed what is happening around you. People are amazing. Actions, gestures, feelings, events, and conversations can be smorgasbords of entertainment, or even better, a slight distraction from your demanding work or day’s trials. Watching people is something I thoroughly enjoy. Studying them, analyzing their thoughts, really diving in to what they are saying, and observing behaviors is just entertaining to me. It is a tad bit weird, maybe a little bit creepy, but there is so much to learn from what I see. Sometimes, I am my own best study. There are some stupid things I do throughout the day. If you can laugh at yourself, it will be okay.

Today, I went out for my little run and it is usually lonely on the sidewalk. The streets, however, are packed with parents taking their kids to the best elementary school in Polk County, adults heading to work, or college students hurriedly trying to get to the college campus. I am sure the health benefits I gain from my jog are just a bit lessened by the toxins of the many beautiful cars and trucks that pass by. While I was pounding out the run today, when I use the word pound it is because I don’t jog like a gazelle, it is more like a circus elephant running around the big top, I really focus on the drivers coming towards me. One reason is because I like cars and I like to see what’s on the road, but the other reason is because I want to make sure I can dive off the road when I notice they aren’t looking at the road, but instead their damn phones. For God sakes, talk to your kids or something. Nonetheless, I jog always looking a bit to the right. Today was no different. Cruising down the sidewalk I noticed a new Jaguar SUV, a sexy looking vehicle, my favorite Toyota pickup, it goes by every day and it is just beautiful, a bad ass new Camaro with a throaty V-8, and many others that were nice but become a blur as the minutes continue to pass.

So, as I am slogging towards half-way, I see this new Tacoma towards me. I am like, “Hey, I know that guy,” so I throw up a wave as he passes. He goes by and I notice there is a kid in the front seat. I think, “I don’t remember him having a kid.” Oh well, I know it was him and he politely waves back. Fast forward a few minutes and he passes by going the opposite direction and it hits me; oops, it wasn’t the guy I know because the stickers that are on his back window aren’t on this particular truck. This happens more often than I like to admit. I wave at a lot of cars. Mostly, it is when they are polite and scoot a few feet over to acknowledge that they see you struggling to continue forward momentum. It is truly astonishing at how many don’t move over at all. The one’s who give a bit get a wave, a nod, or a smile. Who knows if they even see it or care but hey, at least I am trying.

This is just one event during a normal work day. There are so many things I notice throughout the day that tickle me, make me say “Huh”, or just make me wonder what in the hell is going on in that person’s life that made them so pissy. Just sitting here jamming to some different music, scrolling text I keep getting from my dad while he is enjoying a concert at the Ritz, and watching my wife diligently work towards my future while I play writer at my desk, makes me realize how exciting each day is if you really get into instead of letting it pass hour by hour. I am going to end this now as the last post was about 1400 words more and I just don’t have it in me tonight to get that deep. As Chris Stapleton says at the end of “Sometimes I Cry”, he simply says “There you go, thanks for coming out tonight.”

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Some Books Just Have More Chapters -- Michael Knoedler, Former Player at FSC

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.” This Chinese proverb has been given to Confucius erroneously, but that is not really important. The quote hung on the red wall of my little office for years with a racket almost broken in half beside the picture quote. Moments can have meanings that differ to each party and the moment the racket wrapped around the net post meant something different to the player, the teammates watching, and me as the coach. That moment characterizes the player that is in the highlight tonight. Hey Michael, this is for you.

Before I took over at Florida Southern they had a bad ass team. A bunch of hard working athletes driven by an even harder driving coach, Scott Lynn. He crafted a team that had a work ethic that was relentless, masterful at their craft, and on the verge of national greatness. When I took over some of those players were still there. One such player was Michael Knoedler. He was a German, and I had a lot of experience with that culture and was prepared for what was to come. When the players arrived back on campus after the summer break, he and Roman Schirmaier were the first two players that came by to make introductions. I knew who they were because the year prior they had annihilated my former team at Webber in a very business-like fashion. Michael and Roman made themselves at home and began discussing what the team would be like, how we would train, what my expectations were, and many other things. I found out they were human when they found my M&M dispenser. This would be a savior and basically, human catnip for the next few years. Stops to the office to talk about things and to eat a few M&M’s.

As the fall pre-season began I was amazed at the talent and work ethic that I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to coach. Relentless, the word epitomizes the way they worked on the court, in off the court conditioning, and in the classroom. There were no shortcuts, no half-ass days, and no excuses for not being able to accomplish the task at hand. If there was ever a player that wasn’t doing what was necessary I didn’t have to say anything. Michael and others took that role without any direction. If you couldn’t do it, more than likely you sucked. Sorry, that was the brutal truth. If you were bad at something, well, why don’t you practice more. At one practice in particular, Michael addressed the team with this little speech. “Many of you say you are going to be great players, take my position, or make the top six. Well, if I practice 2-3 hours a day and you do the same this is never going to happen. If you want to be better than me, and currently you are not, then you are going to have to practice more each day than I practice. I don’t see any of you doing that, so maybe you should change your goals.” Simple, cruel, truthful, and poignant. It was also a bit arrogant but with a caring tone. Yes, this was my introduction to this team and the ride was unforgettable.

In the first paragraph I started with the quote and the broken racket. The biggest tournament of the fall season is the ITA Regional. This particular year we were hosting at the Lakeland City Courts. Michael was seeded high, he was ranked number 3 in the country, and one of his goals was to qualify for the national ITA in Mobile, AL. This was a dream that he hadn’t yet accomplished. The dream almost ended on court number 2 in the first round. He was playing an up and coming freshman who didn’t know who he was and really didn’t care. After much internal strife, a few outbursts, and finally putting his champions mentality in the front of his brain, he pulled out a three-set victory. This was not the start he or I had hoped for. The next few rounds were a blur and then it was the semifinals. I don’t know if the thoughts of grandeur were rolling through his head, but I knew that in the other semifinal the two players that were battling to make it to the finals would give him a great chance to accomplish his goal. There was only one problem, he had to get through the semifinals first. When players of this level play one another, there are no surprises. They know each other’s games inside and out and most of the time it just depends on who makes the least amount of errors or who can poke out their chest the most and go for it when needed. There is no cracking because that is why they are the best of the best. Playing matches at this level is what they live for. Michael was well on his way to making it to the finals. It was a close match and the titans battled. As the match progressed his teammates sat in the bleachers ready to explode with excitement considering they were only a few points from having their teammate in the finals of the toughest ITA in the country. Fans gathered as the match neared its conclusion. Moments, they can define us, shape us, or create us. The quote on the wall and the racket that joined it are about to be created. Michael fought for and gained a match point. As he had done throughout the match he went for his first serve in hopes of getting a free point or an easy transition ball. He missed the big bomb and got ready to hit his equally effective second serve. He had a nice second serve with a good amount of spin that would not allow his opponent to gain the upper hand. Most of the time. Whether is was nerves, caution, or simply a lack of belief in a huge moment the serve didn’t have the pop needed and his opponent teed off on a forehand that gave Michael no chance to return. We were all square again. The match wasn’t over, but the match was over. Opponents of this caliber don’t allow themselves to be put in holes more than once very often, and when his opponent jumped out of the fire with a helping hand from Michael, he pounced and closed out the match. Dream extinguished that quickly. Here comes the moment. Tennis is a funny sport. You battle for an unspecified amount of time, fight with one another, maybe even yourself, but when the battle is over, you walk to the center of the stage and shake hands to honor the battle that has just taken place. These two warriors were no different. They shook hands, the teammates slouched their shoulders and started playing couch coaches and then the moment happened.

I had a very strict rule that there was no racket throwing. This would get you suspended. It would get you a penalty from the referee which could have repercussions for your teammates. This was a stern policy. I also had a heart and a soft spot for passion and failing. There is nothing more heart wrenching than watching a guy give everything he has only to fail in the long run. I guess this comes from growing up in an era of Wide World of Sports on ABC and watching that guy fly off the ski jump in the Winter Olympics. Who knows the reason, but it was there? Well, Michael graciously shook hands and began the short walk to the bench on the side of court 9 at the complex. As he approached the bench he paused, grabbed his racket like a battle ax and proceeded to beat it into submission against the net post. I knew why, and I will explain that in a bit. However, his teammates immediately snapped their necks around to me and knew that I had seen the crime of crimes. It was up to me to decide how this was going to play out. Would we lose our leader for a crime of passion? Here is the explanation to the team the best I can remember. “Yes, he destroyed his racket. This is not acceptable under most circumstances. This, however, is not normal circumstances. When you have a dream that you work for and want so badly, and things don’t work out the way you anticipated there is a moment of realization that occurs, and you must release that pain in one of many ways. This was not done out of anger, this was done out of the passion to be the best, be on the verge of being the best, and letting the nerves of success cause failure. Everything you have fought against your entire career collapsed in the span of five seconds.” I don’t know if it worked but Michael concurred when we met to discuss the outcome. It was during this meeting that he opened up to me how important it was for him to accomplish the task and how deeply it hurt when he took it away from himself. We discussed how we would move forward as a team and it was during this meeting that I requested the racket. He didn’t know why, but the answer would hang on my wall until my career ended last year.

He was a true warrior as a player and a leader. He was also a pain in the ass to coach. More than once I had to have conversations with him when he was playing a lesser opponent that it would be humiliating if he lost to this player. There were even a few times that the referee and I had conversations where I would cajole the referee to give Michael a point penalty so that he would calm down and return to his dominate self. He just wanted to play against the best and if the opponent on that day wasn’t, he wasn’t satisfied. He would screw off and get himself in holes. He was so mentally strong when needed but when he felt that the player wasn’t worthy of his best the battle raged in his head. Most of the time he would prevail with some firm coddling and a few choice words. He demanded excellence from himself, his teammates, and from me as his coach. He also demanded that I participate in many of his matches as the shrink from time to time. His records speak for themselves though. He was a four-time ITA All-American which means he finished the season ranked in the top twenty in singles and/or top ten in doubles in the nation. He was chosen as the ITA Player to Watch two years in a row which is unheard of. During the 07-08 season he was the Sunshine State Conference player of the year. He was all conference all four years he played at FSC. The Sunshine State Conference is one of the toughest, if not the toughest tennis conferences in the country and he was named the conference player of the week seven times during his career. He was a four-time ITA Academic All-American and was the FSC men’s tennis MVP for four years as well. In 2016 he was named to the FSC Hall of Fame. One of the main reasons this occurred was because he holds the record for most victories, 67, throughout his college career in singles. He also holds the record for most doubles victories at 74 throughout his career. Over his four years at FSC he played number one and had records of 15-9, 18-2,18-3, and 16-3. This was at the top spot, against the baddest of the bad, day in and day out. On top of that, twice he held the number one spot in the nation in doubles with two different partners. For the four years he had records of 18-8, 19-5, 19-5, and 18-5. Those numbers speak for themselves, but he also led by example each and every day.

Germans, by nature, are very set in their ways and I have had the privilege of working with some great ones while at Webber and Florida Southern. They are demanding but also very caring. Michael wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but he owned it when his bed was messy. There were no excuses and he and his teammates have carried their relationships on to this day. He is married now and just recently became a new father. This role will challenge him more than any second serve ever did. His class showed through during his Hall of Fame induction. He wanted to make sure that my wife was able to be a part of it, which meant the world to me, but he also made sure to include Scott Lynn, his first coach at FSC. This class, from such a stern and direction-oriented guy was something that just completed the package. Not only was he a warrior on the court, which made me be at my best, he was a warrior in life. His home is back in Germany with his wife and new daughter, but I think, or at least hope, a little piece of him is still back here in Florida and the players that continue to pass through the gates to the courts feel his presence and attempt to beat his records. Of course, they will have to practice more to get there. Thank you, Michael, for your time, your friendship, and your highest quality of thought and caring towards all that you did and have yet to do.

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Awesomeness, Spring, Read it All, and Moving Forward

Before I get started tonight I just wanted to throw a shout out, can’t believe I uttered that phrase, to the FSC athletic department. The sports are killing it so far. Men’s and women’s basketball are deep in the conference tournament, softball has its new complex, women’s and men’s lacrosse are playing in their new complex and the women are ranked numero uno early in the season, baseball is tearing it up, and men’s and women’s tennis are battling on the asphalt non-stop. I do miss that comradery, but I am keeping up from afar and it is impressive.

Onward and upward. There are some cool things going on these days. Literally, we are going to catch a break from the winter heat we have been baking in and enjoy the last bit of cool down before the truly oppressive spring starts up. It is Spring Training time and the ballparks are filling up with the smell of peanuts, hotdogs, and cold beer. The seasoned citizens are out watching the young whippersnappers attempt to chase their dreams on the clay diamond. High school basketball is in the playoffs and parents and scouts are all watching to make sure the meal ticket performs like he/she is supposed to. Multiple festivals and events are popping up all over the area and there are things to do every night and through the weekend. Forget productivity, let’s go eat food, hang out with friends, and have a few drinks. I think there are 1200 5k’s in the next couple of weeks. We are doing one as a family tomorrow night. It will be fun. I had someone ask me how they thought we would do and I responded that we all would finish. He asked, “No, your time.” I answered, “As long as they will let go.” It’s for a worthy cause and I will treat it like I play golf. I tour the golf course and take in all aspects of the beauty that surrounds me. Tomorrow, we are “running” through downtown Winter Haven. If I was to run “fast” I might miss some of the great improvements, they have made in the area. If I slow my pace a bit, by occasionally walking, stopping to talk to people I might know, or grabbing a cool drink, I figure I can better take in the sights that will be available.

I was perusing through the multiple social media platforms the other day and it hit me at how quickly we go from post to post, picture to picture, and event to event. How many times do you actually just take the time to digest what is coming across your feed? Do you really read what is being posted? Click links to read the story? Probably not, right? Yeah, me neither most of the time. There was a time that I spent a lot of time just looking for cool things across the platforms, saving things I might want to use later, and then watching videos and reading articles. Nowadays, I scroll as fast as my fingers will get through most of the minutia that comes across. I know it won’t go away but I wonder if there will be a time that social media has become so tiresome that we will rebel a bit against the bullshit that is posted so frequently. Don’t get me wrong; I love seeing the cool stuff. Unlike many of the reports you get from the news, it doesn’t offend or affect me at all when I see cool pictures from awesome places that people share while traveling. I think it is great because maybe I will never have the opportunity to see those places and I am seeing it from a traveler or a tourist and not from a media campaign office. Seriously, how shallow are we that we would get jealous that someone is getting to have a beautiful trip? They may be independently wealthy, maybe they have saved for years for this experience, or heck, maybe they just said screw it; I want to see the world and don’t care about my future finances. It is not for us to judge but boy do we. Social media also let’s me know where everyone stands with their political, religious, sexual, and any other belief that someone can post about. Entertaining, eye opening, but never really offensive. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and now they have multiple billboards to post it on whenever they want to do so. Go for it!

To wrap it up for tonight I will finish with this bit of life and loss. If you were part of the Webber family at any time in the past 35 years or so you knew Lois. She was the switchboard operator, front desk guard, and mother to many who were away from home. If there was an issue, she was aware and if you had a problem she had a solution. She knew if you were going to get in trouble and there were times she was able to get you out of said trouble. I know she made great marks on my family. She was my dad’s first line of defense for many things on the campus, his travel coordinator, and eyes for him when he wasn’t around. She was all that for her family at Webber and but even more for her direct family. The love was apparent today during her Memorial service that I had the privilege to attend. It was a great service and was a chance to catch up with some long-lost Webber associates and alumni. Her loss will sting for a bit, but it was comforting to hear the stories from those there today to celebrate her life and from those across the world who posted their thoughts throughout the Facebook feeds that had popped up. Lastly, my dad and I were talking about Lois with her granddaughter, Holly. The consensus was that Lois was a bombshell in her younger days. We all new her as the grandma who took care of us, but none of knew her or saw evidence of her in her younger days. I am guessing she broke many a heart in her time. Holly was pretty funny discussing that part of her grandmother that she wasn’t even aware of until they found the pictures of proof while making the video montage. I guess that goes back to learning about people versus just scrolling through. Oh well, on to the next page.

Have a great weekend, do something that scares you, and go see something that makes you think out of your comfort zone. Have a blast and we will talk again on Sunday.

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