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Alligator Skin, Coach Travis
G’day everyone,
My
son’s football team lost its playoff game by only two points. Although a heart-breaker of an ending, it was a great game. It was close, both
teams were evenly matched, parents behaved courteously (a rarity), the
refs didn’t screw up much, and the weather was pleasant.
Everyone was emotionally worn the heck out by the game’s final seconds. Then, we had a 45-minute post-game huddle.
Our
coaches took turns spreading the love. It wasn’t a bitching session.
Tears flowed everywhere, and it was the love and frustration we all
shared that moved coaches, players, and parents.
There are sore losers and braggarts in every crowd. We can’t please all people all the time.
As you said, Coach Travis, we are a band of brothers during both good and bad times.
During
that post-game meeting, you shared your frightening memories of past
failures and bad choices with us. Those decisions haunted you from
behind your prison-cell’s bars. You vowed never to make the poor choices
again that landed you in jail.
You
had it all, and you lost it all. Your rise to the level of professional
football is offered to only the chosen few. You were at the very
pinnacle of success. Some bad choices later, you’re in jail, and your
hot lifestyle came to an abrupt, humbling end.
Under
such circumstances, many folks choose not to go on, while some become
broken shells of themselves, and others keep repeating the same mistakes
that have the same consequences. Then, there are the very few — those
who have let the wake-up call sink in — those who see the world for the
beauty and magnificence it really has. These few beaten individuals rise
above their wrecked pasts, take their lumps, and humbly learn to be
better people.
Coach
Travis, you are indeed one of those few special people. Yesterday, while
you shared your convictions and emotions with us — your young players,
their emotionally wrought parents, and your fellow coaches, you held your head up.
Sure,
we were all frustrated and upset. That’s human nature.As you said
during that 45-minutes of speeches none of us are perfect, and you
shared with all of us your painful memories of failure and
disappointment. You also shared your feelings of love, joy, and
inspiration to this same bunch of supporters.
You
have been the captain who lead your team to an 8 and 2 season, and lead
us into the post-season playoffs. You provided strength, education, and
direction from your unique perspective, from that of a seasoned,
college-football star, and pro-ball player.
I
have no doubt that you are tough as nails. You’ve been through the
wringer. All this swirling emotion came to a head during that post-game
huddle. We all wanted to be there in the moment, yet all of us just
wanted to go home. Everyone was spent and many were weeping openly. It
was a massive release, an expression, of our team’s — our team-family’s
frustration.
Leaders
learn, keep learning, and then learn some more. No one is born to lead.
We become leaders through experience, choices, education, and life’s
lessons. We all come from different backgrounds, communication
abilities, educations, and the like. Some of us learn to lead, and others
aren’t comfortable in that role.
During
this 2018 Panther season, all of us put our trust in you and your leadership
abilities. We had faith that you would make our kids stronger, better,
and smarter football players.You did it — you, the other coaches, the
players, and their parents — all followed you into the post-season.
Leaders
also don’t always make the best or perfect decisions. Leaders are just
as human as the rest of us. We all have our own perspectives of what’s
right and what’s wrong. We probably all wouldn’t agree on a political
discussion if we had all met in a coffee shop.
On
the football field, you are our chosen leader. Within our mix, at any
point in time, will be harmony and disharmony. We all can’t get along
all the time. It’s one of the many facets that make us human. Also, it’s
human, and very American, not to agree with our leaders. Historically,
we’re a people who openly gripe about our leaders. Freedom of speech is a
Constitutional right and not a privilege granted to us commoners by our
leadership. Freedom of speech is to be enjoyed, but it’s a benefit that
also comes at a price.
Yesterday,
we were emotionally drained people who wanted to go home. Some of us
who remained emotionally charged, exercised their constitutional right
to express themselves. It was done so without mercy, without compassion,
and without sensitivity, and without awareness that their emotionally
charged venting hurt you.
Certainly,
some comments were mean spirited, but they were said by a very few
minority. None of us were happy with losing yesterday’s post-season —
and our final — game of the season.
Then,
the whining persisted foaming over into the team’s Facebook page. Sure,
it’s unfortunate, but trolls and other openly opinionated people spew
their displeasure. Many insensitive, callous comments were aimed at you.
Right or wrong, yesterday wasn’t the day, and our team’s Facebook page
wasn’t the place to whine openly about our team’s volunteer leaders.
Coach
Travis, you represent the team as its vocal and highly visible leader.
As such, you’re the one that upset people are going to complain about.
When the team fails, the head coach most often bears the brunt of all
dissatisfaction. That’s the trade-off to the perks of being the leader
of a team in the United States.
Two
years ago, I suggested to you that parents and players need to get
alligator skin — to toughen up — because the message wasn’t always going
to be pretty. People screw up and get called out for it. We take our
lumps, hopefully learn from them, and get on with things.
You
made decisions during yesterday’s game that I didn’t agree with. So
what? My opinion means nothing from the sidelines. Every game, press
conference, and personal appearance always has at least one griping
detractor. So what?
I’m
fairly certain that throughout the lifetime of your chosen profession
that you were hit with tons of criticism. Right or wrong, it was laid
out there. It stung, it humbled, but the man I see before us today, such
criticism didn’t ruin you.
You
didn’t let it ruin you. You didn’t give in to those who wanted to bring
you down to their level. Again, you rose above the hate, the derision,
and the judgements levied against you.
What
occurred yesterday when a few unhappy people chose to batter you with
nasty comments, you could have made the choice to ignore it and rise
above the situation. However, yesterday was an emotionally supercharged
day, and every stinking one of us wore our emotions on our sleeves. We
were the walking wounded. Instead of all banding together, as your
speech indicated, some of us splintered off, stomped away, and spewed
our objections to everyone within earshot.
I
believe what they did was wrong. It’s not my place to say that their
opinions are wrong. You certainly didn’t deserve to be blindsided on the
team’s Facebook page. That is a private forum for team support and
direction.
Whomever
used the team’s Facebook page as their place to rant was absolutely
wrong. I believe they should have hashed it out with you, offline and in
private. It didn’t happen that way, of course.
Coach
Travis, just as we had to toughen up and power through this loss, so
should you. Take your shots from your detractors. Who cares today what
was said yesterday?
Well,
we all do now because you quit — because of a few trolls’ unkind words,
you gave up on us. Just doesn’t seem right. The reasons you have for
quitting are certainly understandable — supporting your own children’s
teams, are absolutely understandable. If you’re actually quitting for
such reasons, then please do go support your family.
Please
don’t use the inappropriate comments made by a few insensitive people
cause you to jump ship. Doing so is not in the character of the leader
you are for us.
Have a nice day.
~R.J.
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