If you're taking the time to read this post you'll need some background. When my world imploded eight years ago I watched the exodus of every individual I claimed as a friend, and my family. Whatever faith I had in people went with them.
A new high school football coach had been hired at my Alma mater, and he appointed the coaches of the JV squad, and the freshman. I wasn't friends with either.
One day, the man selected to lead the freshman squad approached me. He said he'd been observing me through the years as a Stay-at-Home Dad, and asked me to become an assistant. Everyone I knew was walking away, but this stranger. I said I'd think about it, but he should know something first. I told him he should be aware that my primary objective would never be "to win". That would come second, behind the opportunity the game provided each player to gain self-knowledge.
The man looked me in the eye, and said, "That's exactly why I want you." Those five words provided an explanation behind the point of other people. One I was desperately seeking. My own mother would have disowned the son, and daughter, who walked their self-righteous path away. That's not the objective of being here.
She would have thanked this man for his ability to embody what others couldn't, just had she'd done with the near strangers who showed up in the place of 'friends' as she was dying. She would have done it because the life she lived was imperfect. She understood the importance of the ones who enter, as others exit.
This is simply, a thank you to anyone who understands the point behind their existence is deeper than the judgment they cast upon others. The following is a tribute to him.
"Just wanted to clarify where I'm at with coaching the Frosh this year.
I don't need to tell you how much I love being a part of the program at Aptos, and more specifically, at the freshman level. It's beyond passion. It's religion. And that's the problem.
When I was at L* P***, I couldn't get out of there fast enough during the fall because of when I entered, six weeks into the semester. Teaching was fun, but coaching was religion. Whatever light I carried was taken from the field.
I consented to teaching other teacher's lessons because it was simple, and prudent due to my arrival time. It was also a bore. I'm amazed by teachers who put on a pageant for their students. I'm equally shocked by those who don't. I cut myself some slack for my performance at L** P*** during the fall semester because of the way I was dropped behind enemy lines. And in the spring I caught a glimpse of what's possible when you sit still, and watch the people you teach.
One of two things will happen this year. I'll either discover that teaching isn't my calling, and renovate my existence, or I'll gain entry to the world. What's in my heart is a great distance from what I manifest in the world, and it's been a burden my entire life.
It's been a burden because I've never had the courage to ask the people who have gambled on me for permission to fail. I've never asked the people who offered me employment to allow me to attempt the embodiment of what they hired me for. If I'm gonna get booted from teaching, I want to be booted that way. I want to be booted for my passion.
I've been studying 7th grade curriculum all weekend, and I see possibilities that I didn't a year ago. I have no desire to be 'Teacher of the Year', or recognized in any professional capacity beyond employment. What I want is to be the same man in the world, that I am in my heart. Ironically, the only place I've ever teased at unifying the two was as a coach, on the gridiron.
I think what I'm trying to say is I don't yet know how football is going to fit. I know it will somehow, I just don't see the configuration yet. For me, I need to know that first, before I try to occupy the space.
This past year has left me completely wrecked. The absence of employment, being dependent on others, digesting my sister's regard for me as a person, failing to fulfill my role as a father in the manner I'm used to, revisiting the falseness of what I was forced to become for my siblings, and their discarding of me when I needed them most. All of that together was the closest I've ever come to checking out. If not for two things, I might have.
My brother Mike, who was relentless in his support, and faith. And writing, finally. This blog was the calibration that kept me engaged. It allowed me to provide evidence of light when all there had been, was darkness. I may have written publicly, but I wrote for myself. I can't tell you how many nights I wrote through quaking sobs that confirmed the intention behind my existence in the world when I wasn't able to find a place in it.
I don't want to fill a space unless I can claim it, and right now, I can't. I know you understand, and I love you for the opportunity you gave me to discover myself.
I'll be out there because 'out there' is where I am. Let me get anchored in my new role before I step back into the one that's old.
Thank you for providing a role that taught me who I am.
