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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What a very interesting and enjoyable read! Thanks for your writings.
ReplyDeleteSara