i've always been loved or hated
i generate a divisive response, and i never understood it. now that i am a coach on a semi-high (city confined) scale (a 5A high school program and a head coach of a specific team) I see why my personality might cause reaction. I don't always accept traditional boundaries, often in tunnel-vision of my goals or needs. people come to the games, see me on the sideline. watch and analyze how i deal with kids, myself, the referees, etc.
I have chosen to do the most difficult job i can think of for small wage instead of doing something easy (to me) for decent pay like serving tables or cutting yards.
Nothing is more stringent and rewarding as instructing, teaching or coaching youth. Having them in the classroom is one thing. Personally guiding them toward achieving a goal of learning traditional education and moving on to the next level of scholar is a feeling that few in this wicked world can compete with. Though the vision of success is tangible in society, you're not necessarily on a stage as much as you are coaching.
High school sports in Shreveport are a big deal. The city is actually quite large, formerly the capitol for a time of Louisiana, but does not have major sports teams. There was a Canadian Football Team here once (that my dad and uncle did play-by-play for) if you can believe that, but the city's energy has long been standing with the life and death of 17-year olds' athletic achievements.
Being back here has been a resistance since its existence. There is a city-wide stigma that is attached to every young adult trying to make a life for themselves: "i need to get out of here to show myself, show them, that i am something." Vague as it may seem, it exists and pushes against the establishment telling them this is a great place to raise your kids.
Quickly into my move back home I realized the greatness of this city. I was not connected to my old ideas. I felt like a kid again ready to decide what is best for me. I began to understand again the authenticity of my surroundings and the incredibly real love that blankets my path navigating across the city with no car.
The drops of youth left in me pushed me back to the decision-makers: high schoolers.
One of the great things going for this place is its excitement for the people making these decisions. Kids going around the country to legendary universities, an 18-year-old making it on the X-Factor, or the running back we watched play pee-wee ball scoring the winning touchdown for LSU against, say, Auburn (wink). We celebrate these young people with great fervor. We claim them as family.
I get to impact some of these kids lives. So much of the fabric that makes up my idealistic existence was molded by my high school basketball coach, my English professor in college, my childhood friends, their families...
And now I get to play the other side. These kids look up to me, laugh with me, cry with me, learn with me. It's symbiotic, reciprocal. I see why people do it when they grow up, the payoff is good.
Yet, coaching, the spotlight is on. Parents pick up their kids, hear what they have to say about you, go to the games and watch you act a mess and have conniptions trying to get their kid to block out. But they understand, and they do whatever they have to do to get their child to practice the next day because they value the experience of being on a team and a commitment to skill and growth.
I have to stand in front of my kids tomorrow knowing that I may very well be the reason why they are not performing at the level they should be. They are incredibly talented, yet don't play any defense. I have not practiced them the way I should, and it shows. We are 1-3, and I have acted crazier and crazier as the games have progressed.
But the kids play harder and harder. Listen more. Understand how bad it hurts to lose, every game so close they can taste it but can't eat it.
So, every day I want to go get a real job. I don't want the stage, the pressure, the incredible tangency of our goals and my inability to reach them. Then I close my eyes and see those kids, looking to me for answers. Asking me to guide them, teach them what I've learned, ask me what playing basketball for a Division-1 school was like, tell them about the times I played big games in Louisiana high school basketball. I think about their potential, my potential. What it would be like to get these guys where they could go.
I walk from my parents' house to the gas station to get some cigarettes with the last $4 and change I found under my bed that I have.
The attendant requests my ID, then asks if I'm that coach over at Captain Shreve, I tell him yes.
"Those kids really like you," He says. "I hear 'em talkin bout what they learned from Coach JJ all the time."
I look down and smile, reaching in my pocket to make sure I brought today's practice schedule.
