Coaches as Role Models

Down at the little baseball diamond, the parents of little league players sit through most weather conditions on steel bleachers that are excruciatingly hot in the summer, freezing cold on those fall and spring evenings and when it rains? They can collect puddles with the best buckets made. We frequently trade stories of our kids, knowing glances, laughs as we yell something to our child and they turn around and glare at us and comments regarding basic social chitchat such as the weather. We are aware when a stranger is in our midst because we have parent-dar that zones in on the abnormal so that we can protect our children.

One morning, during a boiling little league extravaganza that watched us being blown away inning after inning, my stranger-dar went off. An elderly African-American gentleman was sitting and watching the game and he’d make little comments regarding stance and how the children were holding the bat. I smiled to myself as it occurred to me that he was a former coach watching the game and that none of these were his grandchildren. He was there for love of the game.

As I listened to his comments, men came up to him, one after another, with looks on their faces such as one might give a celebrity. Slack-jawed, excited, awed and amazed. “Do you remember me?” They addressed him with such reverence and each of them took the time to sit with him, reminisce, and then tell him how much he meant to them and what they were doing now. Some pointed out their own children in their brightly colored uniforms and, with smiles, let him know that their kids didn’t make the same baseball mistakes they did. No, sir.

What I saw was pure respect for this man. A man who’d coached little league for over 20 years, he’d tell me at another game. Some of his former players are doctors and lawyers and a few played in college. When the game was slow, he’d shake his head and look at me with an impish grin, “Don’t they know a hit is as good as a walk? What are they waiting for?” I laughed and agreed. At this stage in little league, there are few pitches worth hitting, but when they are there, I sure wish they’d go after them, too. The games are an hour and a half long and the parents are there diligently. Show us some action!

He still comes to the ballpark because he loves the games, he loves the kids and when he’s there, people treat him like a celebrity. He made a difference! Not a small difference, a huge difference. For 20 years he was a coach to some special kids who got to have him as a teacher, a role model, a friend, a counselor, a surrogate parent and a cheerleader. He wiped tears, encouraged them, taught them fundamentals and sportsmanship and left a lasting impression on these people that they haven’t forgotten.

They treat him with awe and they respect him. How many of us have adults that we revered as such when we were growing up? That we treat with such honor when we see them? He has at least 3 come up to him every game and he treats every one of them like they are the only one who has ever done it. He still makes them feel special.

I feel special just to be able to watch what he does and how he’s affected them.

How are you making a positive impact on the lives of children around you? Will they revere and respect you in 20 years? If not, what can you do to change it?

Jillian is a 30-something southern mom-blogger who is burning the candle at both ends and loving it.