Dear friends: Over the years I have shared this powerful story with many of my friends, colleagues, clients and athletes. It‘s a little long but well worth the read. I have broken the story into three easily readable sections with the first part posted below. Parts 2 and 3 will be posted tomorrow and Wednesday respectively. I encourage each of you to take a few moments, read it and share it with your own children or, if you’re a coach or leader, with your team. It’s a wonderful example of the power of persistence and humility.
The following is based on a TRUE STORY. I’ve changed the names out of respect but what follows is how I remember it.
Part-1 – Meet me on the Astroturf
I had played baseball since I was a young boy and I was pretty good. Growing up I was almost always on the all-star teams at every level. I was the captain of my high school team and destined to play at college. In my senior year of high school I received two invitations to participate in the Orioles’ and Brewers’ instructional tryout camps. It was there that I learned I was good…but not great. I was scouted by a number of colleges and the national scouting bureau and started as a freshman on my college team that played in the small college NCAA national tournament nearly every year. Yet, despite this, I didn’t love the game and never really cared much about it. I continued to play primarily because I had been playing since I was a boy and it just seemed “expected” of me and it felt like the thing to do each spring….but my heart was never really in it.
In my sophomore year at college, we had just come off a year where we went to the small college NCAA national tournament again for the third straight time and we were expected to vie for a national title. Each spring our coach would hold open tryouts where some 30-40 new players (freshman) would try out for the team and each year the coach would keep about four or five new players to add to the roster ….mostly to fill out our (JV) practice squad.
This particular year seven new catchers tried out during the open tryouts. I was the starting catcher and we already had three catchers on the roster, however, I had a friend, Dave Grable, who was trying out as a catcher that day and I was hoping he might at least make the practice squad. At the end of the final day of tryouts Coach would tell everyone to “meet me on the Astroturf by the pitcher’s mound…I want to have a ‘talk’ with you all.” As they gathered you could feel the tension as he asked them to take a seat. He would then tell them that he was going to call out a list of names…”if you hear your name called, immediately gather your gear and go directly to the team room…I’ll be in to speak with you later…if you do not hear your name called, then please stay here with me…I want to talk with you…you have been cut.” Coach was hard but fair and he took no pleasure in cutting anyone. He was from the old school and it was clear he was teaching us a lot more than just baseball out there.
So the new boys would gather on the Astroturf by the pitcher’s mound and await their fate. As Coach began calling out the names you could see the anxiety on the faces of each player as the names were called one-by-one. I had gone to watch that day because I was hoping my friend might make the team. One by one Coach called out the names and each time he did the tension among the boys grew and by the end they all just wanted it to be over. As Coach read the last few names there was an awkward pause before and then he said “that’s it…if you haven’t heard your name called stay here…the rest of you go” and he motioned them off the field. My friend’s name was not called…Dave had been cut. Immediately I looked over at Dave and his head dropped as he took in a deep breath of despair. My heart broke and I felt bad and waited for Coach to finish his “talk” with the boys before he sent them on their way. For most, they would never play baseball again. Coach always tried to soften the blow in his comments but, to be honest; I don’t think it helped much. When Coach had finished, Dave got up, turned towards me and when he did I could see the pain and disappointment in his face. As he got closer he began to cry and it broke my heart to see my friend like that.
When Dave made it over to where I was standing I told him how sorry I was but he didn’t really respond. We then turned in silence and walked towards the field-house without saying a word. About half way there Dave suddenly stopped and looked over at me. For a few seconds he didn’t say anything and then tears filled his eyes and he said, “I hate you BAB.”…BAB was my nickname in college…short for Babashan, of course. For a second I was shocked and wondered why he would say this, but I knew he didn’t really mean it…not in the way it sounded, anyway. “Why, Dave, what did I do?” He said “because you don’t really love the game like I do. You don’t really even care about the sport the way I do and it’s just not fair…God wasted my talent on you…. it should be me out there, not you.” As I listened, I remember feeling terrible and, for a second, I wanted to defend myself but I realized that was not my place at that moment. My job at that moment was to be his friend, so I said nothing.
That night I lay in bed thinking about Dave and all he had said. He was right, I didn’t love the game…in fact, I was really tired of it. I didn’t care anymore and I was on auto-pilot. I loved my coach though and that was really the only reason I was playing at that point. As I thought through the night I began to wonder why it was this way. A part of me felt guilty and ashamed and I knew I needed to do something…but what, I had no idea.
The next morning I awoke and decided that I would simply go talk to Coach and tell him he needed to reconsider his decision about Dave. I was feeling very brave and safe in my dorm room but as soon as I set out across campus to the coach’s office, I began to shrink with each step I took. By the time I had made it to the coach’s office, I was standing in a pool of my own nervous sweat and I felt like I was two feet tall standing in the doorway just trying to summon up the courage to make my entrance. So much for being a hero… I couldn’t even knock on the coach’s door for God’s sake. At one point I looked around as if searching for the guy who had put me up to this madness, but then I gathered myself closed my eyes and knocked.
Immediately I began the chant to myself… “Please don’t be in, please don’t be in, please don’t be in”… I began to rethink the brilliant strategy I had come up with and after a few seconds I heard nothing and breathed a huge sigh of joyful relief …then just as I was ready to turn and walk…run away actually…I heard his voice from behind the door….”come in”…I almost fainted.
Now, before I go on, it is important for me to paint a picture of my coach. His name was Dean Deshon and he looked as though he was straight out of central casting. His nickname among the upper classmen was ‘”Digger” ….and God only knows why they called him that. I just assumed it was because when you looked at him you wanted to die and fall into your own grave…as in “grave digger” …or because he had buried the hopes and dreams of so many young players along the way…but I was never sure and I was too scared to ask. He was old-school, hard, and in perfect physical shape for a man nearly sixty years old. He had a bald head and that menacing look that can sometimes accompany a man with no hair. His voice was gruff, he was prone to short answers and when he looked at you, you felt weak, small and powerless. His face was hard and chiseled and looked like a cross between Popeye and Frank Purdue…the old chicken guy. Frankly, I was scared to death by the man and when he yelled “come in” my entire life flashed in front of my eyes.
Still, somehow I summoned the courage and I opened the door and walked in and saw ‘Digger” sitting behind his desk working on some paperwork. For what seemed like a few minutes I just stood there…frozen…and Coach didn’t even acknowledge the fact that I had entered the room. Then he slowly tilted his head up from the work he was doing, looked me in the eyes, and made a facial expression…you know, the one that’s says “well?”
At first I forgot why I was even there as random thoughts suddenly raced through my head….”who invented liquid soap and why, are paper towels really better than the cloth towels and I wonder if I could learn to surf” …. after a few second I gathered myself and I could see Coach waiting for me to say something but this time as I went to speak I began to stutter and stammer….”Oh, ah, ah, we’ll Coach” I said, “I’ve come to talk to you about Da, Da, Dave, sir.” “Dave?…Dave who?” he said. I immediately knew I was in for a tough ride. “Ah, Da, Da Dave Grable sir…you know the big kid who tried out for the JV team.” “Ah Dave….he’s a good boy” Coach said. “What’s wrong with him, is he alright” Coach asked, “Yes sir, he’s fine…but I wanted to talk to you about maybe ah, ah, re,re,re reconsidering cutting him…?”
Suddenly, the coach’s face lost all its expression and right then I knew I had made a very big mistake. I began to panic and I wondered what would happen if I just turned and ran out of his office. “So you think I made a mistake” he said. “No sir…I don’t think you made a mistake, but I think that you might want to think about making a place for Dave because he has a lot to offer.” “A lot to offer,” the coach said. “You know we are trying to make it to the Nationals again this year, don’t you?” He went on, “Dave is a nice boy but he’s slow, clumsy, and awkward… he can’t hit or throw …I mean we are a baseball team after all. What do you suggest we do with him…make him team mascot?” ….Mascot…hum….for a second I considered the idea but then quickly came to my senses. “Well coach, Dave just loves the game and he told me he was willing to do anything to be on the team. Maybe he could come to practices and catch batting practice and shag fly balls or something like that… anything…he really loves the game, Coach, and I just think we might be able to use a guy like that around the team.”
After I spoke, Coach just sat there looking at me. He said nothing for a few seconds and then said, “is that all?’ “Yes,” I said and he then dropped his head back down to his work and mumbled “get to your next class and I’ll see you at practice today.” He then motioned me out of his office, said “shut the door as you leave please.” And it was over.
After I closed the door, I stood just outside his office for a few seconds trying to gather myself and understand what had just happened. I had no idea if he had really even heard me but I felt good that I had tried. I also felt the kind of embarrassment you do when someone sees right through into your soul …when your real self is evident and your tough exterior is wiped away clean and all that is left is your true naked self. I felt small and weak …but proud for even coming at all.
Later that day I was in the locker room getting ready for practice when the coach walked by. As he passed, I looked up and when we made eye contact, for a brief second, and while I could not swear to it in court, I think he actually smiled at me….but since I hadn’t really ever seen him smile I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t quite sure what it meant or even if it had really happened but at least he didn’t kick me off the team, so I was happy about that.
I dressed and headed out to practice. As I walked I was thinking about the events of the day when I noticed a big man standing on the field with a rake working and shaping the pitcher’s mound. As I got closer I could see that it was Dave. Immediately thoughts raced through my head but I was not sure what I was seeing or what it all meant. When I was close enough I called out to” Dave” but he didn’t look up at first. Then, just as I got near the dugout, Dave seemed to notice me and he stopped, held up his rake over his head and gave me a big smile.
When I arrived in the dugout Coach was already sitting at the far end in his regular seat. I began to get ready, putting on my spikes and gear, occasionally looking down the bench to see if I could catch the coach’s eye. At one point I looked up and the coach and I locked eyes and he gave me a wink … in that “knowing way” …but said nothing. I nodded back but said nothing either.
It was our secret and I felt good, really good….but what I didn’t know was that I had set into motion a series of events that would change the destiny of our team.
PLEASE READ ON… Part II – “The numbers don’t add up” …will be posted tomorrow…
Wonderful story cannot wait to read the follow up parts