TKA: The Last on this for a While

This is going to be the last you hear on this topic for a while. I am back at work and life is slowly returning to normal. So it’s time to put this story to rest for a while.


I’m talking about my recent knee replacement surgery. The next time you hear from me on this topic I will be telling you about a return to the bicycle. I promise.


You already know that it’s been a bit more than I would have thought. I thought I was stronger, more prepared, and ready for this thing. I even told Dr. Jones (that did the surgery) that I was not going to be his typical patient.


Well, this piece of garbage knee that I gave the good Dr. Jones to work with had something different in mind. This thing decided that I was going to pay for ignoring it for way too many years. It decided at surgery that “all right big boy, I’m going to show you who is boss.”


I’ve been humbled. I’m not superman. I’m far more normal than I ever thought. This knee replacement has been just like everybody else’s. It hurts. It’s stiff. No part of it is easy.


Oh, it seemed like it was going to go just like I planned. The morning after surgery, the wonderful physical therapist Kim Tippitt got me up and walked around the halls of the hospital. That was after Physical Therapy Technician Bill brought me coffee and my wife sweet tea, something he does for lots of folks (and another column unto itself).


Kim expertly guided me through my first few steps, coaching me along the way and then took me to the PT gym on the same floor to go through a few exercises. When she came back for another jaunt, I asked to use my own forearm crutches and she obliged.


I was off to a booming start. I went home that night and came to a screeching halt. The pain was rather significant. I was, perhaps, human after all. The next few days taught me lesson after lesson. I was most assuredly human.


Surgery was on a Wednesday. My first outpatient physical therapy visit was to be Friday at one. On Friday morning, I called and cancelled that appointment, opting instead to move it to Monday. My family could not believe it. I was definitely called out on that one. I just wasn’t ready.


Let’s jump back to the now. As I said, I’m back at work. Everyone is looking out for me but I’m where I need to be. Two weeks at home did not drive me crazy. My wife has taken incredible care of me. I’ve read a ton, watched some good movies, and caught up on a lot of writing.


Physical Therapy is going well. My knee is really stiff but that’s mainly because of the extra length of time that I had to stay in a tourniquet for the surgery and for the extent of the garbage that my knee had become. Pain is manageable. Walking isn’t too bad.


Several weeks ago, a friend said to make note of the date when I decided that this whole affair was worth it. I really can’t say I’m quite there but I know that the day is coming. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.


And I can’t really answer the question “are you glad you did it?” I guess I am but I’m ready to be normal, pain-free and back on the bicycle.

TKA: The Saga Continues

I received some good column writing advice many years ago…some advice I’ve tried to always follow. The late great Jim Dykes told me “write where you’re at.” Works for me. For 35 years.


Well today, I’m in the middle of recuperating and rehabilitating from knee replacement surgery. I told you about all that last week. I thought I might update you later but this is pretty much my whole world right now. This is “where I’m at.”


Every moment is consumed with getting through this, getting better, and getting back to some degree of normalcy. But I have to tell you, this thing has been a bear. Dr. Jones tried to tell me that it was not going to be much fun. He tried to tell me that it was painful but I thought I was tough. And when I started whining, he reminded me that he spent an extra hour just chopping away bone and bad stuff.


I originally had thoughts of going home on the day of my surgery. THAT wasn’t happening. I had these thought I would get a new knee and be back to work in a few days. Huh-uh. Wasn’t gonna happen. So now I’m working every day on moving my leg, walking, exercising, going to physical therapy, and, yes, simply recuperating.


Simple tasks take more energy. Sleep doesn’t come easy. I’m still using crutches to get around (I was NOT going to use that walker thing). And then there’s that whole thing about “staying ahead of the pain.” I didn’t really understand that at all. Everybody told me about that. Told me how important it was.


But I was different. I was tougher than most. At least I thought I was. I learned that lesson the hard way the first night home after surgery.


I had been functioning at a high level on this piece of junk knee for well over 10 years. I could do everything but run. Until this year, my wife and I had taken a big hiking trip every fall for many years. Oh, I knew it was time. There were days when the knee would ache and I would think “find Dr. Griffith and a surgical suite and we will fix this thing right now.” I knew I was taking way too much anti-inflammatory medication.


Most of that was because I could still ride my bike. It hurt occasionally but for the most part, I could ride without any trouble at all. I’ve spent a lot of years getting to a decent level of proficiency on the bike and I knew that a gap in my riding that a knee replacement would demand would mean that I wouldn’t be able to ride like I did for a long time.


That’s important to me. Not because I want to be faster than most. And I’m not really very competitive on the bike. That has nothing to do with it. A lot of my very best friends are those people I ride bikes with. Steve, Maysoun, Bob, Emil, Ken, Clay, Tim, Clark, and on. There is a friendship, a camaraderie among bikers that is like nothing else.


You’ve got to like each other. You’ve got to trust each other. You’ve got to support each other. When one person goes down, we all hurt. When one person gets a flat, we all stop. It’s a fellowship that I don’t get in many other places.


For now, that’s gone. Oh, I know I will be back. I know I will catch up. But there’s a gap in my life, in my psyche from that absence. So now I work. I don’t believe anyone can say (yet) that I’ve been anything but an exemplary patient. Despite leanings this way in the past, I am dedicated to not do anything stupid.


I want to close with some advice, both personal and professional. If you’ve been putting this thing off, reconsider. I waited ten years too long and because of that, this has been much harder than it needed to be. Although I’m not quite there yet, almost every patient I’ve ever rehabbed for this has ended up saying “if I had it to do over again, I would have had it done a long time ago.”


I’m sort of counting on that.

TKA and Down

This has been a rather eventful week for me. Last Wednesday Dr. Justin Jones of OrthoTennessee-Maryville (formerly known as Maryville Orthopedic Clinic) put a new knee in me. Yep…one of those knee replacement things.


Now this is something that I know a lot about, though not on quite so personal a level.  As Baby Boomers have hit their senior years, it is becoming more and more common.


The technology is getting better all the time too. (I’m pretty much counting on that). But this surgery was way overdue. I’ve had previous knee surgeries on this knee, dating back to college days, but none quite like this. This was the big one.


If you saw me trying to run onto the football field to check an injury this year, you knew something was up. By the end of this football season, I barely strolled out onto the field, regardless of the anticipated severity of the injury. My right knee just wouldn’t allow it.


It goes back to my football days. And farming, when we would literally tackle calves to give their shots and tags (we were football players—we thought it was cool). I had a few injuries along the way but none too bad. I played basketball until I was 59 when this same right knee told me clearly it was time to give it up.


I have rehabbed hundreds of patients with total knee replacements. A common refrain is “I wish I had done this a long time ago.” I’m not sure I feel that way yet. I probably will.


I do know that literally up to the time of the surgery, I was riding my bike. I had no trouble out of my knee on any of the group road bike rides that I take every week. And weekends on the mountain bike were my regression to a younger self, when I would zoom around sweet singletrack like I was in my 20’s (…OK…in my 30’s).


But walking became difficult and running became impossible for me. Steps were too often one at a time. My family became quite protective of me in recent months but what they didn’t see, they couldn’t change. Like climbing around doing repairs on my barn. Or like last Sunday, when I zigzagged around my lower pasture doing a final season treatment of fire ants.


But it was time. So on Wednesday, I got 90 minutes of Dr. Jones’ best work and now I’m home. Yeah, 90 minutes. Maybe three times longer than it usually takes.  There was a whole lot of chopping and chiseling. The end result will be a much better knee than I’ve had in a very, very long time.


I know it’s my employer but everyone at Blount Memorial Hospital was awesome. From Shannon in Pre-op to Carmen on 5-South and everyone in between. I was well informed through every step and treated with compassion and professionalism by everyone I encountered.


And now the rehab process starts. I’ll be in the hands of my colleagues at Total Rehabilitation-Cherokee, mostly Candy Martin. I promised many that I would be a good patient. Just don’t try and hold me back. Dr. Jones won’t. He already told me as much. He put a great knee in there. I’m not going to be stupid but I do plan on working harder at rehab than I’ve ever asked a patient to do.


I guess the best advice came from my friend David Schoeni—he said “don’t be a hero.” I don’t plan to be but you might see me back on the bicycle sooner rather than later.

Strength Coaches and Injury Prevention

We had three local teams in the football state championships this weekend. It is a huge accomplishment just to make it to this level. It is amazing that three teams within spitting distance of each other are all there.


The Total Rehabilitation Athletic Training staff was there. Shawn Davies, ATC covers Greenback. Peggy Bratt, ATC was where she always is…on Alcoa’s sideline. And I was there for Maryville High. It is a privilege we don’t take for granted.


At this point in the season, it is often the teams that are healthy that are most successful. Our athletic trainers are a part of that but probably not the most important part.


The unsung heroes in injury prevention are those in charge of strength and conditioning of our athletes. The time in the weight room and in the gym is the foundation for performance but also for injury prevention. 


Success on the field or on the court starts in the offseason. And it’s not just getting bigger, stronger, and faster. It is developing balance, coordination, agility, flexibility, and core strength. I preach the core strength sermon all the time.


Think of your core as the foundation that you build your house on. Remember the story about building your house on the sand? Same thing. Knee problems? Work on your core. Shoulder problems? Work on your core. Back problems? Definitely work on your core.


The Strength Coach at Maryville High is Brandon Waters. At Alcoa, it is Brian Nix. Coach Waters is always seeking ways to develop his athletes, particularly when it comes to preventing injuries. I’m quite sure Coach Nix does the same thing.


At the end of the season, Brandon and I will always have a long conversation about what his athletes need to do to prevent injuries. During the season, when someone gets hurt, he is always seeking answers as to why.


There is really no accident to the fact that the football teams at Alcoa, Greenback, and Maryville are in the state championships. In many respects, they are the healthiest teams. And that didn’t happen by accident.


I travel to other parts of the state often and am frequently asked what is the reason for all the athletic success that we have around here. It’s not just football. Look at the soccer teams at Maryville, Alcoa, and Greenback.


For the first time ever, I’m going to give you my opinion on that.


We have great coaches around here. We have great community support. We have kids that buy into their respective programs. We have kids that grow up playing multiple sports. Yes, we have great athletic health care.


We have kids that buy into the concept of team play. We have coaches that are more invested in developing solid, responsible adults than they are in winning championships (I just happen to believe that the two go hand in hand).


Congratulations to the many teams in this community that are out there every day, working hard, striving for success, staying coachable, and learning valuable life lessons.

Who Loved you into Being

I watched the new movie “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” last weekend and I find that I’m feeling quite thankful for a lot of things, not just a table full of food with family around.


In that movie, Tom Hanks, playing Mr. Rogers, turns to a reporter and asks him to “consider for 1 minute the people who loved you into being.” The really cool thing is that in the movie, Tom Hanks’ character looks straight into the camera, basically asking everyone in the audience the same question.


I don’t know about everyone else that was there but I did what he asked. I thought about my mom and dad, aunts and uncles, friends, and my wife.


My parents were a bit older when I was born. My dad liked to say he had to practice a lot to get me. He had his first heart attack when I was 5 so the dad I remember was never very active (cardiac science back then was that you essentially did nothing). But he was always there for me.


When I built a tree-house at 12, he sat at the bottom of the tree and coached me through it. When he was unable to tend to our bees, he sat in that same chair and talked me through the process.


His 6^th grade education meant that he could never really help me with my homework but he still demanded excellence in the classroom. My summer job in college was at a local factory, the place where my father had worked until his heart sent him home. The guys there would tell stories about how hard my dad worked. He was a little man but could outwork anybody.


My mom was this tiny lady but with strength it’s hard to fathom. When my father’s health failed him, she went to work, first in the elementary school cafeteria and then at the same factory where my father had worked. Although dementia tainted her later years, she lived 94 years and was feisty up until the very end.


I was blessed with aunts and uncles that helped mold me. Soon after my dad had to retire, my uncles took me to Knoxville to buy me a proper sport coat and pants, something I didn’t have. They were role models, maybe good and bad, but they loved me and I knew it. Most say I look like my Uncle Dood.


My Aunt Gin had style and flair and if I have either of those, it came from her. I did her eulogy where I complied with her wish that I add “my Aunt Gin was a hoot.”


I have been blessed with great friends throughout my life. Ricky Alexander and I practically grew up together. He was the kid who lived closest to me and we were always at each other’s house. Scouts, football, hunting, fishing…one adventure after another. If I ever went to battle, I would want Ricky there with me.


Ronnie McNabb and I were friends from an early age but became inseparable in high school. Countless hours on the tennis court, dated best friends, roomed together in college. We don’t see each other often enough but still consider each other brothers. If I needed anything, he would be there.


As an adult, I have had many great friendships, some lasting literally for decades. Ken Bell and I can drive across the country and enjoy each other’s company for days on end. I’ve spent thousands of miles riding bikes with Steve Bright and trust him like no one else. Danny Smith who does physical therapy the right way all the time. Others. Friends that love you like family even if they aren’t.


And then there’s my wife. Forty-three years and going strong. I look forward to getting home to her each evening. I’m gone a lot (work, volunteer stuff, bicycling, politics) but she remains my rock and my foundation.


So who loved you into being who you are today?

Medical Bankruptcy

When I first started writing this column, it was all about sports injuries. It actually started out as a question and answer thing, answering questions about athletic injuries.  Dr. Bob Haralson and I took turns answering the questions in this space. It was called “The Jock Doc.” We did it that way for about a year.


It became a column not long after and I’ve been writing it every week since then. For 34+ years.  In all these years, I have covered a wide variety of topics, often having little to do with sports. But it’s always been about helping this community be a better place because…well…I’m all about making this community a better place.


When I arrived in Maryville in 1977 (December 12^th, to be exact), there were three physical therapists in all of Blount County. Blount Memorial now has about 90 Physical Therapists and Physical Therapist Assistants and a whole host of other rehab clinicians that are Occupational Therapists, Athletic Trainers, and Speech Therapists. There are other rehab clinics and clinicians around our community providing good care.


Obviously, health care has changed. The medical community here has grown to meet the needs of our county, also reaching into surrounding communities. Our population is now over 130,000. Here’s the problem:  Every single day, I encounter someone without health insurance or someone that is terribly under-insured.


All too often, I will get a boy or girl having had surgery to repair a torn ACL, a devastating injury to a young athlete. And maybe they have no health insurance or are under-insured. The rehab following ACL reconstruction is extensive. But even if they have insurance, maybe their insurance has a hard max of 10 visits for physical therapy (that means that insurance will only pay for the first 10 visits). They need more than that to get back to their sport.


Health care costs, including the costs of providing physical therapy, are expensive. Insurance and other forms of third party-payment are important in helping us get the care we need while protecting our financial viability. Unfortunately, over 500,000 people go bankrupt because of medical bills every year. That constitutes a national crisis.


Let’s look at this from a different perspective. One of my best friends in the world just got back from M.D. Anderson Hospital in Houston. He has a rare and aggressive form of cancer. So he traveled to the best cancer treatment center in the world. The cost doesn’t matter. His life is in the balance.

In the United States, we have the best medical professionals, the best technology, the best hospitals, the best medical care in the world. Twenty years ago, my friend would not have had a chance. Now, he does. And he will pay whatever it takes to beat this thing.


I’m not going to get political on you and offer my opinion about what we should do as a country. I don’t think there is a single best solution. But I can tell you my opinion about what you and I can do.


We can get healthier. We can take better care of ourselves. We can eat better. We can control our weight. We can exercise daily.


We can get an annual physical, not because we’re sick but because we’re making sure that we stay healthy by controlling our blood pressure, managing our diabetes, and by discovering medical problems early, before they turn into catastrophic events and diseases.


We can stay away alternative forms of “health” care that claim to treat everything from glaucoma to asthma to bedwetting. We have research that tells us what the best course of action to treat injury and disease is. Insist on evidence that what any provider is suggesting will really work.


We can prioritize our health and take ownership of our personal wellbeing at a level that will drastically decrease what we spend on health care. And be healthier and happier because of it.

More on Simply Moving

I want to talk about movement again today. I listened to a podcast this week about movement and it had some really great points. We just really don’t move much anymore. Modern conveniences have created a sedentary culture.


I see tons of patients with shoulder problems. A lot of those are related to their posture and a lot of that is from spending too much time in front of computers and digital devices. Neck, shoulders, upper back…all pay the price for sitting too long.


Lots and lots of jobs consist of sitting in front of a computer all day long. Even my job requires me to sit at a computer for long periods of time (hello, medical documentation). We even advise people who work at computers to set an alarm to tell them to get up and move around every so often.


Modern conveniences have been built around not moving. Drive up for fast food. Eat in your car. Drive up to the pharmacy to pick up your medicine. Drive up to the bank to handle transactions. We don’t even get out of the car.


We can call in our grocery order, pull into a designated spot and someone will bring everything we ordered and put it in our vehicle. I realize that can be a great blessing for those with limited mobility but I still advocate for getting out and going inside to do your shopping, even if it is in one of those motorized wheelchair-type things.


Even when we get the stuff home from the grocery store, we don’t have to do anything to it. We don’t have to wash it. We don’t have to chop it, peel it, or dice it. It’s already in a bag ready to eat. Instead of planning, assembling, and preparing dinner, you can get a complete meal at the grocery store that requires only that you heat it up.


And ordering things online. First, you sit in front of a computer, making your choices. You wait a couple of days and then it is delivered to your door. It couldn’t be easier. And it couldn’t require less movement unless somebody carried from the porch into your house.


You can order take-out from lots of restaurants and don’t even have to go pick it up. Someone will pick it up and bring it to you. You could conceivably exist in today’s world without ever leaving the house.


Even the rear facing cameras on our cars can be seen as a deterrent to movement. You don’t even have to turn around to look behind you. (But don’t take mine away—it’s a blessing for senior citizens like me.)


When I was a child, we had three TV channels. And those channels signed off about midnight. Heavens forbid that the President was talking—it would occupy all three channels. And the remote was my Dad telling me to get up and change the channels. You actually had to touch the TV!


Today we have an almost infinite number of shows to watch, 24 hours a day. That means that you have the potential to sit for hours on a time, completely captivated by what is on the TV screen. For goodness sake, we had to suffer through the Lawrence Welk Show when I was growing up!


We need to move, not just when we exercise. We need to move throughout the day. Don’t drive around looking for the closest parking spot. Don’t take the elevator up one floor. Never surf channels just trying to find something you might like to watch. Walk. Meander. Shop. Move!


You might find this hard to believe, coming from me, but exercise is not the solution. Exercise without a life of movement is like taking vitamins and supplements to provide you with what you’re not getting from what you eat. If you are sedentary much of the day but spend an hour in the gym exercising, you just aren’t getting the movement that your body needs. You’ve got to move all day.

You need to MOVE!

I’ve got a patient right now that came to me about three weeks ago with back pain. At her first visit, she was in a world of hurt. I had no idea how she was still going to work every day. But this isn’t a story about the patient. Or even about back pain.


This is a story about movement. This patient had been having back pain for about three years. She had tried a lot of different things before she found her way to my door. Previously fit and always active, her back pain had limited her activity level and added 70 pounds to her frame.


When I first saw her, it was clear that she was terribly deconditioned. For three years, she had simply failed to move. Any initial injury was likely long since resolved but now she had to get over the recovery from whatever it was that started her back pain.


Our bodies need to move. No…our bodies have to move. We are made to move. I don’t mean we have to run or jump or play sports. But we do have to move.


A lot of the health problems that we as Americans are suffering from today are due in no small part to the lack of movement. Obesity. Diabetes. Heart disease. Vascular disease. All those things and more can be effectively treated with movement.


Let me break it down in a little different context. Years ago, rehab, my world, was focused on joint protection. In other words, after knee surgery or shoulder surgery, we might brace or splint and protect the joint from movement. Then we got smarter. Now we know that early movement is a huge advantage in rehab. Total knee replacement? Needs to move early and often. Rotator cuff repair? We will even go into the recovery room to start early movement.


Our joints, ligaments, tendons, and muscles need to move. Put a healthy joint in a cast and take it off in a month. That joint, which didn’t hurt before, will now hurt.  I guarantee it. Our heart, GI tract, lungs, and blood supply need us to move. Our bodies are amazing and how they work is simply incredible but without movement that body starts to deteriorate.


You don’t have to run a marathon but you might need to walk around the block. If you can’t walk, then maybe you ride a bicycle. If you can’t ride a bicycle maybe you can swim. If you can’t swim maybe you can just get into the water and move around. It works. It really does.


Our bodies are not made to sit in the same place for long periods of time. People who spend too much time at a computer have all sorts of issues. People that drive for a living will eventually pay the price.

Something will fail them. Their back. Their neck. Most likely, their shoulders.


I don’t watch much television. I do have a favorite show:  Madam Secretary. I can’t tell you when it is on but I know that my wife keeps it on DVR so I can watch it whenever I want to, without commercials. The only other time that you will catch me sitting in front of the television is when
Clemson’s football team is on. But sitting even that long leaves me feeling…well..yucky. And stiff. My body is telling me that it needs to move!


So here’s the rest of the story about my patient--the first time I took her to our rehab gym, she cried pretty much the whole session. I picked her exercises carefully (and wisely, I hope) but I was convinced she just needed to move.


The second session she cried but cried less. The third session she noted that she was better. By the fifth session, she declared that she felt “marvelous.” For the first time in three years. I didn’t provide her with any great physical therapy interventions, I simply asked her to move. And gave her parameters to do so safely.


What about you? Do you need to move more? Do you stay in the same position doing the same thing for long periods of time? I’ve got one really important piece of advice for you, simple as it may be. JUST MOVE!

Be A Generalist!

I just finished a book called Range, by Daniel Epstein. The subtitle on the book is “Why generalists triumph in a specialized world.” The book starts out by comparing the development of the careers of Tiger Woods and Roger Federer, the greatest golfer and tennis player of their generation.


Tiger was destined for golf from an early age. At age 4, he was beating 10 year-olds. Everything from birth to his professional career was focused on making him the greatest golfer ever.


Roger, in contrast, played everything.  His mom was a tennis instructor but she did everything she could to discourage him from a tennis career. He played squash, wrestling, and basketball and went skiing, swimming, and skateboarding.


When other kids were attending tennis academies, working with personal trainers and nutritionists, and competing around the globe, he was agonizing over having to give up soccer. And at an age when most tennis professionals retire, he was still the number one ranked player in the world.


The book is full of statistics and research and reaches some pretty startling conclusions. In a nutshell, the most successful of athletes in pretty much every sport played lots of different sports growing up.

The exceptions were gymnastics and…well…gymnastics. That’s it. Really. Everything from golf (well, except for Tiger) to football to equestrian events, the most successful athletes were generalists.


The easy answer to why is athleticism. The more complicated answer is in emotional development.

It seems like there is a ton of pressure on young athletes to be stars, to be on the winning team, to be successful in sports at an early age. Pitching coaches for 8 year olds. Sports performance training for adolescents before their body is ready for that kind of activity.


According to the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons, more than 3.5 million children age 14 and under are treated for sports-related injuries each year.


Dr. Jim Andrews is probably the leading sports medicine physician in the world. An orthopedic surgeon in Birmingham, Dr. Andrews’ patient list includes Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods. His surgery allowed Drew Brees to return to the NFL after a devastating shoulder injury.


Dr. Andrews on youth sports injuries: “I have seen my patient population and surgical cases get increasingly younger. Children, parents and coaches need to realize that kids need to take a break from playing one sport year round. Sports should be fun for children. Overuse injuries in children is a concerning trend.”


His core advice is simple—Take time off, don’t specialize. OK, but when is it OK to concentrate on only one sport? Maybe in high school. Maybe later. Certainly not before they reach puberty.


The bottom line is that there is no way in the world that anyone knows that a 10 year old is destined for sports stardom. Oh, we can have a good idea that they’re going to be really good at something, but we can really never know exactly what. Everybody thought Roger Federer was going to be a soccer star.


Winning a weekend baseball or softball tournament is meaningless if your child doesn’t get better. Winning a flag football league is a waste of time if your child doesn’t have fun. Let your kid play. Let your kid have fun. And let them play everything.

Not necessarily vicarious

OK. I get it. You want your children to have opportunities that you did not have. You want your children to accomplish things you did not or could not.  I appreciate that. I understand that may not be living vicariously (something that very involved parents get accused of all the time).


Let me back up a minute. The last two columns have preached a harsh sermon at parents that would yell at their children’s games. Yell at the referees. Yell at the coaches. Yell at their kids. Lots and lots of yelling.


In 34+ years of writing this column, I don’t think I’ve ever had more positive response to a column. Tons of emails, getting stopped by friends and strangers, text messages—you name it, I’ve heard about it. And they’ve all been positive.


Well except for the examples shared from all across the country about youth leagues being abandoned because they couldn’t get referees or coaches. That part is sad. And devastating to the physical and emotional development of our children.


As so often happens, instead of focusing on all those negative comments, I started looking for the positive comments. And they were everywhere. Positive far outweighed negative. Oh sure, there has still been the occasional parent yelling about a missed call and I really did hear this week a parent yell “BLOCK SOMEBODY” after their own child was tackled for a loss.


But I really liked most of what I was hearing. I watched a kicker run off the field being mobbed by his teammates after making a kick (he had missed one earlier). I heard people in the stands whooping it up after a big play. I heard parents and others clapping for a goal or a good play, regardless of which team they were on.


And I realized a few things. I realized that good parents want things to be better for their own children than maybe it was for them.  That is what being a good parent is. Good parents want their children to have positive experiences in sports, again, that maybe they didn’t get to have.


Wanting those positive experiences for your child isn’t necessarily living vicariously through them. There’s a basic difference…if you are doing it for you, then it is living vicariously. If you are doing it for your child, it is not. If their success somehow validates your unrealized potential, then it is living vicariously.


I learned some things through being a parent. I learned that I could not make success happen. I learned that nothing I did came with a guarantee. I learned that coaching from the sidelines never helped anything. I learned that yelling at the referees didn’t change a thing. I learned that being critical or second-guessing teachers or coaches never accomplished anything.


I certainly wanted my children to be successful in everything they did. Everything. I wanted to enable them to achieve their dreams. But here’s the difference—I wanted them to achieve THEIR dreams, not mine.


At the end of the day I found that it is most important to teach your children how to be happy, to enjoy life, and to be satisfied with what they have instead of always wanting more.


It’s OK to enable your kids to have experiences that help them achieve all that. It’s OK to insist that they be treated fairly and have opportunities. But if it is not kept in perspective, if it isn’t fun, if winning becomes more important than playing, then we have a problem.

You may not choose to be a role model but you are

I happen to believe that our true character is revealed by how we act when no one is watching. We need to also consider that even when we don’t know it, somebody might be watching you, copying you…wanting to grow up and be just like you.


A year ago, I told the story about taking one of my granddaughters to a soccer game. We stood at the playing of the National Anthem and I saw this granddaughter look at the team lined up and slowly copied them—her right hand over her heart and her left arm behind her back.


I snuck a photo which is an all-time favorite. The story was about role models. About how children are looking at others to learn how to behave. About how impressionable children are.


And how important it is for us to set a good example. That is a timeless message. Age doesn’t matter. Somebody, somewhere is looking at you, especially if you are an athlete.


Just last week, another story about the same granddaughter came out. It seems she is now copying the hairstyle of her favorite soccer player. Something about putting bands in her ponytail all the way to the end.


Thankfully, this young lady has embraced the fact that she is indeed a role model. She is now playing soccer in college but knows that her influence can reach all the way home.


We should all be prepared to assume the responsibility that comes with being someone’s role model. It may not be a role that we want and we might not be ready to accept it, but it often belongs to us anyway.


I’ve told the story here before about sitting on the balcony at a basketball game dropping popcorn on people below. A young mother turned to her son and said “don’t grow up to be like them.” I might have been 10 but I remember it to this day.


We are constantly role models for someone. Take smoking. Statistics tell us that if both parents smoke, there is a very high likelihood that their children will smoke too. Often while still teenagers. Is that what you want for your child?


And a sedentary lifestyle. We don’t inherit obesity. We get it from a sedentary lifestyle and bad eating habits. If the parents sit in front of the TV for several hours each day and dinner is fast food, that is what the kids learn to do.


When I was a teenager, I had this family friend that I thought was from the coolest family ever. They lived in a house north of Atlanta that had a wilderness playground for a back yard. The dad had model trains. Three brothers, something I always wanted. When I visited, we were always fishing and exploring.


Mark decided in high school that he wanted to be a wildlife biologist. I thought that was pretty cool. Any guesses what my first college major was?


I had another friend that I thought had great taste in music. Guess what I listened to? Yep, whatever he was listening to. Another friend was a great dresser. Guess who I copied?


My point is this…you should always be conscious that somebody might be looking at you to learn how to dress, talk, behave. And it might be your friends. Maybe it is your family. Teenagers, those little kids in your life are going to look at you as their role model much more than they do their parents.


Embrace that role. It will help you make better decisions. If you even think that someone is modeling their behavior after you, it makes it easier to do the right thing all the time. And you never know when little eyes are watching.

I'm not going anywhere

I will retire one day. Not today. Not soon. But one day. I will give up my spot on the sidelines of the Maryville High School football team. A spot and a privilege that I will always cherish. It will be someone else’s turn. Someone younger. Someone just as qualified. Someone who will hopefully love it as much as I do.


And when I do, I’m not sure I’ll ever go back. For sure, I could never walk the sidelines with the team and the coaches. Whomever takes my place doesn’t need that. Too many years and too many relationships—I wouldn’t do that to my replacement. The last thing they would need is them thinking that I’m looking over their shoulder, judging whatever they are doing. I won’t do that. They will do fine and I hope will do a better job than I ever did.


I won’t sit in the stands either. I just don’t think I could listen to people yell at the players and the coaches. There probably isn’t enough bond money for me to do that.


I remember when my son was playing football in college. It’s probably the only time I consistently sat in the stands and watched a game of any kind. I’ve always been a part of whatever game I attended.


All the parents sit in the same section at college games. Obviously, those deciding such things know better than to put families with the fans. It was also one of the coolest things about having a son playing college football—we made lots of friends with other parents.


One time, there was this family sitting on one side of us and one of the family members said something about one of the players. That player’s family happened to be sitting on the other side of us. Now, keep in mind, this sort of thing doesn’t happen often. Families understand things. 

Just when things between them started heating up, one of them got distracted and things went back to normal. Being in the middle of that mess told me pretty quickly that I didn’t want to sit in the stands very much, especially if I had a vested interest in the team on the field.


As for MHS football, for the rest of my life, this team and these coaches will be my family. So no, I won’t be able to sit in the stands and listen to people criticize them.


I just don’t get it. These are teenagers and these coaches want nothing but the best for these kids. I remember hearing someone yell from the stands to George Quarles “you need to pass more coach.” Really? You know more about calling the offense than GQ?


My least favorite is “BLOCK SOMEBODY!” Uh…I don’t think so. Block somebody on the other team, not just any somebody. That one hurts more as the parent of a lineman (and a former lineman myself) when it comes from the parents of a running back that just got tackled.

I wrote last week about yelling at referees and umpires. That column got a lot of comments on social media and a dozen or more emails in my box. Everyone had egregious examples of bad behavior by parents of young children. My son-in-law thought he might have to protect his 9 year old son from the other team’s parents in a soccer game last weekend.


It’s beyond ridiculous. I had several people send me articles about youth sports leagues having to close down all across the country because they can’t get officials.


If you are a parent, support your son or daughter. Be their parent, not their coach. You do not know more about what is going on than their coaches. If you disagree with the officials, understand that they know that they don’t get everything right, every time. If you think you can do better, great. They would love to have you.


But be kind. Be positive. At the end of the day, these kids aren’t going to be making their living playing sports. And maybe 3% of them will get college paid for by their athletic exploits. They are much more likely to get college paid for by their academic exploits. I heard a statistic once that said for every athletic scholarship, there are 1000 academic scholarships.

You are much more likely to get there by reading to your younger children, taking them to the museum and art gallery, and expecting academic excellence. Sure, sports are important, essential even, but you're not helping them in any phase of life by yelling at their coaches and referees or by coaching them from the sideline.

You want you child to be a great athlete?  Get out in the yard with them. Throw a ball with them. Run with them. Encourage active play.  Let them play everything. Hike, paddle, ski...do it all. You're building athleticism when you do that.

Let our children learn positive lessons from their sports. Don’t teach them what they don’t want be like with their own children.

The future of youth sports is in jeopardy

We have a national crisis. Our kids are at risk of having the opportunity to play sports. Why? Because of the physical and verbal abuse that the referees and umpires are receiving. Who is doing that? Parents.

A bit of a disclaimer. I was not the perfect parent of a young athlete. I disagreed with officials, maybe sometimes loudly. I got angry. But I never ever thought of hitting one. That’s not the case today. Game officials are regularly confronted and beaten, all across the country. Leagues everywhere are abandoning youth sports because of it.

I happen to believe that youth sports participation is an essential part of growing healthy adults. Youth sports are our best vehicle to learn teamwork, to learn how to be coachable, and to understand the pure joy of movement and athletic competition.

I’m the grandfather to six kids. All six play a sport of some kind. I would hate to think that we could live in a world where that wasn’t even an option to them. Last weekend, in attending the games of my grandchildren, I witnessed the genesis of a lot of this bad behavior—behavior that threatens the very existence of sports for kids. You think I’m exaggerating? Check it out. Look around the country. Leagues can’t find officials so they have to cease operations.

So here’s the scenario last weekend: I was sitting in the shade watching the end of a soccer game, waiting on the next field for my youngest grandson to play. What I saw was a young woman, obviously a mother, yelling at the referee, yelling at the players on both teams, eventually yelling at the opposing coach. Out of control.

I was sitting there calmly when I turned to my son and said “there’s my next column.” This was a game between two girls’ teams that were, oh, I would guess 5 and 6. I know this referee. He’s a good kid. A high school sophomore. There was nothing that he did that was unfair or inappropriate.

We then went to that youngest’s game with the same referee. No problems at all. No yelling parents. Coaches that were coaching. I have no idea who “won” that game. I couldn’t care less. My grandson was out there moving around, learning a little about the game, maybe learning a little about teamwork. Having fun.

So the next day, I went to another grandson’s flag football game. Soon enough, the parents from one team were yelling at the referees or coaching from the sidelines. As I sat down, I turned to my wife and said “I’m pretty sure I’m about to get more material for my column.”

Again, these were high school kids refereeing. Doing a great job. Talking calmly to the coaches and ignoring the parents, just like good referees everywhere. Near the end of the game, there was controversy about the score and the parents from the team that was behind were loud with their protests. These were the same parents that had been yelling the whole game.

But here’s the worst part—after the game, I heard three separate dads tell their sons “you really won the game, the referees just cheated you out of it.” Really? Like it matters? What kind of message are you sending to your kids?

Do you really think that coaching from the sidelines helps your child play better? Do you really think that winning a game at 10 is going to determine your child’s athletic career? There is no way that we know at 10 or 12 or even 14 whether a kid is going to be a sports star. And without a doubt, whether they win a youth sport game or not will have nothing to do with their ultimate athletic success.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe we need to keep score in our games. It gives them structure. But what if those games went away because we couldn’t find officials for those games?

Parents that coach constantly from the sidelines…are you trying to live vicariously through your children? Are you trying to get them to do things you couldn’t or wouldn’t accomplish? Do you really think that a college scholarship awaits your child if they succeed in youth sports?

Youth sports are all about movement and life skills that our children learn from participation. They don’t learn to be “winners” by winning a flag football game. They learn to be winners by learning the vast lessons that our games teach us. And from watching how their parents react to their games.

How about this—volunteer. Be a coach. Work in the concession stand. Better yet, be a referee. Your perspective will change. I guarantee it. And maybe you will understand that it is all about the participation and not about the game.

It's not about the bike

I made a new friend and rode my bicycle this past week. I know what you’re thinking--“Oh no, not another story about the bicycle.” Nope. Not this time. The bicycle is just the vehicle.


Here’s the story. This new friend was a good rider but unsure of his ability. He lives in a flat area so the hills around here intimidated him. He married a Tennessee girl but had only visited and had never brought a bike. Three years ago he had made a commitment that he was going to get fit. So he bought a bike. And started riding.


Barrell chested with a huge smile, he is quite fit. But he definitely isn’t one of the 130 pound bikers that can zoom uphill. He wasn’t too sure of his ability. It was part of my job to help him understand that he was totally capable of doing the rides that we had planned. I assured him that if he paced himself, recovered when he could, and refused to quit, he would be fine.


Did I mention that he was about to climb Butterfly Gap Road to Top of the World? Yeah. That. Never been up that road? It’s steep. And then toward the end, it gets even steeper. When it levels out and you think the climb is over, you get another steep section.


He made it with a smile on his face but that’s just where this story begins. You see, this fellow was from the middle east. From one of those countries where poverty is a way of life. Where women can’t get an education, hold a job, or drive a car. Where the law is whatever one man might decide it is and punishment can be swift and deadly. Where oppression is constant and children might be used as human bombs. That world.


While he was still a small child, his family decided to try and escape all that. He was just a child but he remembers it well. Days of walking, hiding, afraid to even beg for food because of the fear of getting caught. Hiding in a hole for 8 straight hours. He couldn’t whimper or cry lest he reveal his family’s position. A hole in the desert where he could have died.


Crossing into a country that didn’t want him. More walking but now they could beg for food. A family with small children sleeping anywhere they could find. For days on end. Threatened repeatedly by locals that hated him because of where he was from.  


Days turned into weeks and at every border crossing, the family was scrutinized, chastised.  Still having to beg for food and with everything they owned already bartered away for money to pay the bribes that those border crossings required, they were always hungry. And dirty. With but a few possessions they carried on their backs.


Finally, they got far enough to gain a certain amount of acceptance. A country that gave them just a whisper of a chance. Dad found work. They lived in a tent for a while. They were able to eat regularly.


But they had this dream. A dream of coming to America. The Land of Opportunity. Where freedom and equality ruled the land. Where you didn’t get beaten, maimed, or killed because of your religious beliefs.


So they lived a life of frugality that you and I would consider unfathomable. And they got enough money to come to America. They got jobs, found a place to live. Were able to go to school. Quietly built a life.


The rest of the story is still being written but I can tell you that that boy hiding in the bushes as his family escaped sheer hell is now a successful businessman with a lovely wife and two children. Manifesting that American dream. As far as I’m concerned, climbing Butterfly Gap on a bicycle is nothing.

Coach Dutton

I recently had the opportunity to reconnect with some old high school football teammates. And when I say old, I mean it. This was the 50^th reunion of the 1969 state champion Loudon Redskins football team. We were invited back to be a part of the induction of the 1^st Loudon High Sports Hall of Fame.

The game was the season opener against hated rival Lenoir City (I still don’t like the orange and black of Halloween). The game was on Thursday and my game was on Friday so I had the chance to go.


We were asked to arrive early and have the pre-game meal with the current team. The ’69 bunch sat and reminisced while the players wondered how this bunch of old guys could ever have played football. We joined them as Coach Harig delivered his pre-game speech, calling on his team to stand on the shoulders of those players that had gone before.


I really enjoyed catching up with old teammates like Dickie Blankenship, Wayne Poole, Ronnie Watkins, Fred Chaney, Scotty Akins, Yancy Hampton, Hank Evans. I’ve stayed in touch a bit with others, like Gordo Watson, J.L. Millsaps, and Lonnie Hawkins. I was overjoyed to get to spend time with Mike Bivens. I had not seen him in 25 years.


“Big Mike” and I spent a lot of years together. He and I went all through school together and were always among the better students, were good kids, and went to American Legion Boys’ State together. We even bagged groceries at the White Store together for a while. And when it came to football, we were side by side. He was the tackle and I was the guard on the right side. He was the defensive tackle and I was the linebacker behind him. Always together.


As his nickname implied, he was the biggest of all of us. I think he was class president all four of our high school years. He was our protector, our brother, our teammate. Smarter than most, gentler than all, I honestly recall only once seeing him angry. He made it a very special night for me.


It was also an opportunity to spend some quality time with one of our coaches, Dr. Gary Dutton.  Coach Dutton and I have crossed paths numerous times through the years but our conversations were always brief.


You may have heard my story about how legendary Loudon football Coach Bert “Chig” Ratledge changed my life’s direction forever when I overhead him tell someone “he can be a good one if he works at it.” He was talking about me, this underachieving high school sophomore with zero self-confidence. Coach Dutton was just as important an influence on me in those oh-so-important teenage years.


My senior season was 1970, the year that Maryville High won the high school state football championship. In my many years in Maryville, I’ve come to know a lot of those Maryville players. Tommy Beaver. John and Joe Emert. Buzz Thomas. Jeff Mills.


When we played them, I knew a lot of Maryville’s seniors by name. Coach Dutton, who played at Maryville College, had coached those players as 9^th graders at Maryville Junior High before returning to his alma mater to begin a long and storied career in coaching and academics. He made sure we knew them as individuals.


I was trash talking from the opening kickoff (yeah…I know…hard to believe), surprising the Maryville players by calling them by their names. We knew that team well. Jim Allison, all-state tackle that went to UT. Troy Bowman, a bruising fullback as big as our linemen.


Oh did we want to win that game for Coach Dutton. Those were his boys once but we were his team now. It was a great game. We led most of the game, up 21-7 at one time. It was tied 28-28 late in the game when Maryville scored the winning touchdown.


As I walked off the field, totally exhausted and broken hearted, I went up to Coach Dutton and said “I’m sorry Coach.” He replied “it’s OK Joe—you gave it everything you could.” And that’s something that has stuck with me my entire life--that there is honor in losing if you give it everything you’ve got.


We can never be successful at everything that we do. We will inevitably fail at something. But it’s what you do when you get knocked down that matters most—that is what determines who you really are.

Dealing with the heat

I’ve written this column before. Several times. I’m probably going to use some of the same language in here. I avoided going back to read previous columns on this topic so I wouldn’t be influenced by those.


Folks, it’s hot out there. Our athletic trainers have had to work extra hard this week to keep our young athletes safe and healthy. TSSAA has a list of guidelines that we are to follow when the Heat Index (a combination of air temperature and humidity) reaches certain levels.


I can tell you that our standards are even more stringent than those of TSSAA and most of our efforts this time of year are directed at dealing with the heat. Frequent breaks. Water available throughout practice. Acclimatization periods.


We have a really dynamic student trainer program in place at the high schools here. Those students have all participated in a week long camp in the summer and are a valuable asset to our athletic teams. They often become the eyes and ears of our Athletic Trainers.


They are taught what to watch for and are constantly observing our athletes to see if they are struggling with the heat. Red face. Labored breathing. Excessive sweating. Struggling physically. That’s when we want to get them, pull them out of practice, and get them cooled off.


If it gets to the point where the athlete is stumbling around, seems confused, or seems “out of it,” we develop a sense of urgency to get them cooled off. At each of our high schools we have a tub ready, filled with ice and water, to put an overheated athlete in.


It’s called “cold water immersion” and it is absolutely the best way to deal quickly and effectively with heat related problems. It’s cheap, it’s easy, and it’s important.


If someone stops sweating or becomes lethargic or listless, we have a medical emergency on our hands. Cold water immersion as quickly as possible and call an ambulance. The body is cooking itself and systems are shutting down to try to save themselves.


The key is prevention and prevention starts with hydration. Plenty of fluids, using both water and sports drinks is essential. It can’t be all water. You need the electrolytes that you get from sports drinks. And it is important to not just drink when you are thirsty or when you are practicing—it is important to be fully hydrated all the time. That means you drink all day.


If you are participating in a hot weather sport (or other activity), you should be drinking enough to where you have to pee regularly. And the color of your urine is important. It should be clear and light yellow. If it is bright yellow, you are not hydrated enough. Cloudy and you’re already in trouble.


All this is important away from sports too. I’m reminded of this on hot Saturday afternoons when I’m trying to do way too many chores in the hot sun. I’ve already rode my bike for quite a few miles that morning so I’m probably already a bit dehydrated.


The bike can be deceptive. You are moving so there is always a breeze so you really don’t feel the heat too much, but that also means that sweat is evaporating more quickly, dehydrating you more quickly.


Since my work hours during football season stretch from dawn to dusk, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on Saturday afternoon and no choice but to do it during the hottest part of the day. I try to do what I insist that others do—drink lots of fluids and take regular breaks, but I still find myself behind on the hydration side. And once you get behind, it’s hard to catch up.

For a man your age...

I’m hearing it more frequently. “You look good for a man your age.” Or “you sure are active, for a man your age.” Not too long ago, I might have taken a tiny bit of offense at that. Not anymore. I now accept it for the compliment it was intended to be.


But then just this week, I picked up a men’s magazine and on the cover in big, bold print was “Staying Healthy and Active as You Get Older.” The problem is, it offered articles for men in their 30’s, in their 40’s, and in their 50’s.


What? Does the pursuit of good health and an active lifestyle stop for men when they reach their 60’s? It sure seems like it does. Now I realize I am not in the demographic for this magazine. By this set of articles alone, I’m pretty sure it is intended for men in their 20’s and 30’s. They didn’t so much as say that but it sure seemed clear to me.


And I’m alright with that. There are lots of magazines focused on older men.

Like….or….maybe….oh well, I guess they don’t exist. I guess when you get into your 60’s and 70’s (a decade that is staring me in the face right now), you’re supposed to be inactive and unhealthy.

Then today, a work colleague who happens to run ultramarathons was told by a health care provider that she was too old to run. That she really needed to quit thinking of herself as an athlete. Oh, and she’s 35.


Are you kidding me? I hardly even remember 35. I certainly thought of myself as an athlete at 35. I remember that my kids were into everything and I was right there with them.


But I’m not going to list the things that I was into in my 30’s and 40’s and beyond. To do so would be either bragging or complaining. But I will tell you that I played basketball until I was 59. And unless this is the first time you’ve read my column, you know I ride bikes. A lot. And I’m 66.


What’s a guy to do? Where do active, older adults go to for advice? It was at that moment that I realized that maybe that was something that I need to write about. I’m in that demographic. I pursue good health and an active lifestyle with a vengeance. I know what it’s like to be in my 7^th decade and still out there doing stuff, having fun. So I’m going to write about what it takes to be healthy and active in your 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s.


In your 60’s, your joints are starting to fall apart. More and more people are getting hip and knee replacements than ever before. That doesn’t mean that you need to take it easy—quite the contrary. Getting healthy joint replacements means you can do things that you maybe haven’t done for a while.


Your relationships are settled and your emotional health may be at its peak. People will constantly ask you when you’re going to retire but you don’t have to retire until you want to. You know who you are and you really get to be that person.


In your 70’s, don’t let others decide what you’re going to do. Travel. Do all those things that you didn’t have time for when you were running the rat race. Lift weights. Unless you’ve worked hard at it, you’ve lost a fair amount of muscle mass. It’s more important now for you to do strength training than it was when you were in your 30’s.


In your 80’s, your balance is not as good as it once was. You need to do some simple things every day, like stand on one leg with your eyes closed. March up and down on a pillow (or other unstable surface). You need to stretch more. You need to exercise daily. Always wanted to paint or do woodwork? Now’s the time. Follow your passions and yes, even follow your dreams.


In your 90’s? Enjoy everything. Enjoy every day, every moment. Do what you want to do? Heck yeah. As for me, I’ve got a long bike trip planned for when I’m in my 90’s. May even ride across the country.

You've got to play something

If you have paid close attention through the years, you might remember that I had three rules for my kids when they were growing up.  We would often recite those on the way into school in the mornings. I can remember pulling in to Ft. Craig School and together reciting those rules.


Be good. Be smart. Play something. I want to focus on that “playing something” today.


Tennessee is one of the most obese states in America. Our kids are obese. Our adults are obese. You can read all kind of statistics but the consensus appears to be that about half of Tennesseeans are significantly overweight.


We also know that active children become active adults. A sedentary lifestyle begins young and begins at home. Get home, have dinner, settle down in front of the TV or computer. That seems too often to be the American way.


A better way is to get out and do something. Walk around the neighborhood. Shoot hoops in the driveway. Go to the park. Ride bikes. Just move. It doesn’t have to be sports or part of a team or anything like that.


Let’s go back to that parks thing. We have great parks around here. Our community is laced with Greenway trails. You don’t have to go far to find one. We have parks with basketball courts and parks with wide open spaces. Tennis courts and softball fields. We have pavilions and picnic tables everywhere.


You can even drop in at our library, which is found mere feet from one of the Greenway trails and our beautiful downtown lake. One of the amazing things about the Greenway trail is that you can go for miles with very few road crossings. The planners did an awesome job.


Let’s talk about sports a bit. One of the most obvious ways for our kids to stay active is to play sports. There are leagues or organizations for just about everything. Basketball, football, flag football, soccer, softball, baseball, gymnastics, swimming, volleyball, wrestling, and on and on.


My personal parenting advice was to play everything. Dr. Jim Andrews, probably the most renowned sports orthopedist in the world, argues strongly against sports specialization for kids. Playing just one sport at an early age is just a bad idea. Kids don’t develop the all-round athleticism that will serve them as they get older.


There are three arguments here. One is that athleticism thing. I’ve said it before that my son loved gymnastics at an early age and that it was the balance beam that he enjoyed the most. The balance beam is a girl’s event but you will never convince me that part of his balance and athleticism didn’t come from that.


The second is that there is no way that you will know what sport your child is most suited for at a young age. You’ve got to let them play different things until either their passion or their body dictates focusing on one or two sports.


My son was always going to be a football player. His body dictated it. He loved basketball but after quitting basketball his junior year in high school he put on 30 pounds of muscle and made himself into a Division 1 football player. My daughter discovered volleyball as a high school sophomore almost by accident but then discovered that she not only loved it but that she was good at it. She also went on to a successful college career in volleyball.


The third point is that early sports specialization leads to an increase in injuries. Young bodies need different movement patterns to properly develop. They need to run, kick, throw, jump…move! Research clearly shows that avoiding sports specialization early on definitely decreases injuries.


So remember rule three:  Play something.

How clean is your coffee pot?

This is really how this happened.  Let me back up a minute. I love to get to my clinic early, long before anyone else shows up. I set up my computer, put up my gym bag, unlock the door, turn on the lights, and make a pot of coffee.

Before I make that pot of coffee, I need to retrieve water from the other side of the gym, where there is a sink. This is the coffee pot in our reception area so it brews several pots a day. I usually take just a few minutes to clean it up from the day’s residue.


On this particular day, it wasn’t too bad. I started just to do a quick rinse, thinking “this pot is clean enough, I’ll clean it another day.” But then this thought hit me—good enough just isn’t good enough.

I’ll go back even further, maybe 50+ years ago. One of my dad’s favorite bits of advice was “anything worth doing is worth doing well.”


So back to this day: I took the few extra seconds to clean the pot. It is important to me for it to start the day clean. I believe people expect that. And that oh-so-simple little task made me think about those little things that we need to do every day.


I’ve heard a lot of coaches talk about the details. The right footwork. Consistency. Doing the little things right every time. In team sports, it is important for many reasons, but if you’re doing those little things, then you are more reliable as a teammate.


In individual sports, it can be just as important. Start out with the wrong step in tennis and you’re a half step slower getting to the ball. Don’t execute the turn just right in a swim meet and you might have lost the race. Step wrong in a long jump and you get disqualified. The little things.


I’m a big list maker. My chores at home start with a list. I will bust it hard on the weekend to get everything on that list done. My wife and I have a pretty good deal—she can put anything on the list she wants to but I get to prioritize it and nothing gets added once I get going.


I’m the same way at work. Somebody saw my laptop this week. On the perimeter of the keyboard are all these notes (to myself) about individual tasks that need to be done. Those are my high priority items.


On my desk (which, truth be known, is really just a countertop separating our clinic from our gym) you will find a rather large number of similar notes. Some have been there so long that they are worn and tattered. Those are either lower priority or projects without end.


When someone sees my desk, they might remind me that there are digital forms of post-it notes that I can put on my computer. I used to have one of those. It didn’t work for me. I need the physical act of peeling up one of those notes, wadding it up, and throwing it in the trash. I get a lot of satisfaction from that.


What this gives me is a vehicle to remind me to take care of the details, to pay attention to the little things. It might be a call that I need to make or a thank you that I need to extend. Looking at it, I’m reminded to wear my black polo to the football jamboree, to order a new book on Amazon, to set up another meeting.


I don’t ignore the big things. I’m a “Big Picture” kind of guy. But I’ve learned that to accomplish the Big Things, you’ve got to do the Little Things. You’ve got to pay attention to the details.


Clean out the coffee pot? Here’s the thing—a grubby coffee pot might be how someone judges me, judges my office. So before I even see them, they might have formed an opinion about me or my clinic.


So…what are the Little Things in your life? What are the details of your day that deserve your attention?

How often do you get to see real heroes?

This is going to be a hard column to write. I’m often asked where I get ideas for this space. Somehow, something always comes up. This one jumped up and hit me in the heart, so I knew that I had to write it. I want to talk about heroes.


I can remember growing up that most of my heroes were sports stars. Johnny Unitas. Dick Butkus. Julius Erving. I grew up with the space program and John Glenn was certainly one of my heroes.


I was a teenager during the Vietnam War, a controversial war at best. I can’t say that our country’s leaders at the time were heroic to me. My friends that went to southeast Asia were surely heroes but when they came home, sometimes scarred and forever changed, we didn’t really think of them as such.


Growing up where I did, it never dawned on my that someone with a huge intellect could be a hero. Albert Eintstein and e=mc² was just goofy professor-type stuff to me. My vocabulary certainly wasn’t sufficient to understand how smart some people could really be. And that those were the people most likely to change the world.


My heroes tended to run along the lines of those that escaped poverty and mere existence, through sports, adventure, or business. The only politician that seemed heroic was John F. Kennedy.


But we are surrounded by heroes. A law enforcement officer that puts on that shield and carries that gun into the night…that person is a hero and worthy of our admiration. We have no idea what that is like but it takes something beyond bravery. Maybe a strong desire to protect those that under certain circumstances cannot protect themselves.


I find it a bit ironic that growing up, a lot of little kids want to be a fireman or an astronaut, or a sports star. Things change and those kids grow up to be accountants and entrepreneurs—admirable, even necessary professions but they don’t sound as dashing.


I believe firemen are real heroes. Think back to 9/11. There’s a very clear visual of people running from the destructing twin towers of the World Trade Center. Yet, running the other way, into the face of trouble, are the firemen.


It’s what they do. In situations where others find it best to flee, they head straight into the burning building or to the danger itself. If you ask, they’ll tell you that it is part of the job. If you keep asking, they will tell you that carrying a child out of a burning house is worth the risk.


Our military personnel are worthy of consideration as heroes. Especially those that have been in combat situations. Each and every one of them put themselves in the line of fire of somebody trying to kill them. And they do it because of their belief in our nation, our people. Because it is their duty.


But let me tell you about a different kind of hero. One that dwelled among us. Who was part of our community. A family man. A fellow that started a business to provide for his family and quietly went along to be a good man. The father of four daughters. Married for almost 28 years.


When two of those daughters were caught in a riptide in the Gulf of Mexico, he jumped in to try and save them. He saved the youngest then went back for the next one. After pushing her to safety with everything he had in him, a wave came along and sapped him of whatever strength he had left. Resuscitation efforts on the beach were unsuccessful.


I didn’t know this man well but we had met and chatted on several occasions. He lost his life on July 14^th but he saved his daughters. In the words of his wife “you did good, Freddie. You saved your family.”


Rest in Peace, Fred Pepperman. You are truly a hero.

What kind of role model are you?

There’s this fellow that works out in our gym. He’s one of the regulars. One morning recently, he brought his young son in with him. I’m guessing the boy is about 7.

I had met the fellow and spoke to him in passing from time to time.  I knew where he worked and knew his boss. I knew he was sort of quiet. I had plenty of reason to think that his health was important to him. He worked hard in the gym.

But I had no idea he was a dad. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. But it was completely outside the context in which I knew him.

This kid was a little blonde-haired cutie. Dad showed him around a bit and then settled the kid into a chair that the boy had carefully placed. I thought it was pretty cool for the boy to watch his dad in a vigorous workout and smiling while he was doing so.

I found myself watching this youngster watch his dad. And what came into my head was what a great example this young father is giving his son.

We know that active children become active adults. If we’re really going to solve the childhood obesity problem, then we’ve got to get our children more active. Less TV. Healthier food. An active lifestyle.

There is little doubt that electronic devices can be the enemy of an active lifestyle. Hand held devices may be worse than TV because of the postures they promote (think head bent forward).

Frankly, mom and dad, it starts at home. I happen to believe that obesity is not so much genetic as it is learned. And most of those lessons come from our parents.

I’m not talking about strength training and daily visits to the gym. I’m talking about just being active. I might define it as the anti-sedentary lifestyle.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, if it is fun, they will not only work harder but they will get more out of it. I’ll admit that some of my miles slogging it out on a road bike are not always fun but put me on a sweet single-track trail on my mountain bike and the effort fades away.

It is never enough to simply send your kids outside to “play.” They will quickly get bored. Give them some options but more importantly, be a role model for them. Do stuff with them.

It can be anything from flying a kite to a walk in the woods. Wading in the Little River at the Y. Climbing on the equipment at Sandy Springs Park. Playing catch in the back yard. Swimming off Louisville Point Park. Walking up to the Lookout Tower at Look Rock.

Horseback riding. Cycling on the bike trail in Townsend. Paddling on the Little Tennessee River below Chilhowee Dam. Hiking the many miles of trail in the Smokies.

Sitting in a car driving around Cades Cove doesn’t really count unless you get out and hike a bit. Add a side trip to Abrams Falls and you’ve got a healthy excursion. Neither is cruising around the lake in a motor boat, unless you are being pulled behind it.

Whether you like it or not, little eyes are watching you. All the time. Little kids, especially, just want to grow up to be like mom or dad. What kind of role model are you?

Oh my: Football season is HERE!

Tell me it isn’t so…football season is upon us! I thought summer was just getting cranked up. The Dead Period is over and it’s here!

Don’t get me wrong. I love it. I’ve said too many times that I’ll quit my day job before I quit football. Too many birthdays have meant that I’ve had to make some accommodations.  Like running onto the football field. Not. Gonna. Happen.

I’ve decided that it is probably time to get one of those knee replacement things. As soon as football season is over. Which I hope is some time in December.

So…you are the parent of a high school football player. Maybe it’s the first time. Maybe you’re a veteran. Here are some things that might help it be a better season for you.

Your son (or daughter—we’re talking football here but the same basic concepts cross gender lines) has several coaches and only one set of parents.  It seems such a cliché but your child needs for you to be a parent.

That means loving them unconditionally, supporting them in everything they do. And don’t disparage their coach. And don’t yell at the referees. And show up for their games. And. And. And.

You get the picture. It really is quite easy to understand. Your child needs you but if you let them define how they need you, then it will work out well for all of you.

Get injuries checked. Around here, at the high school level and, to a certain degree, the junior high level—an Athletic Trainer is readily available. For high school football, one of our (Total Rehab) Athletic Trainers is always there. For practices, scrimmages, and all games. That’s because of the number of athletes that are on every team and because of the nature of the game.

You’ll also find our Athletic Trainers at a lot of other games and events. It’s what we do and we made that commitment to our local schools a long time ago.

We also open our doors at Cherokee every morning at 7 to check injuries among athletes. We bring all of our athletic trainers in to Cherokee for that purpose. Ortho Tennessee-Maryville (formerly Maryville Orthopedic Clinic) also comes in early and will see those athletes that our Athletic Trainers have determined need an orthopedic evaluation.

To make it clear, that service is provided to all of the schools that we serve and is intended for both high school and junior high athletes.

Stay in the present. Enjoy it while it is going on. I’ve enjoyed youth sports with the grandkids far more than their parents. I can sit back and enjoy the games and don’t feel in the least compelled to yell at the umpire, worry if they’re good enough, or question the coach. I can even laugh when a grandson runs to the dugout when he was told to go home (he was on third base).

Lay off the officials. They’re not perfect. They make mistakes. Yet, they are an essential part of every game. We cannot do it without them. Try this-imagine that referee is your son or daughter. How would you want them treated? Exactly!

Enjoy the process.  Blink your eyes and these days will be gone. Done well, with positive family support, sports can be one of the best things you can do in your life.

Leadership 101

Leadership. It’s been said that Leaders are born that way. That you either have it or you don’t. I don’t think that is entirely true.

You’ve heard my story before. How high school football transformed an underachieving kid into someone that knew that with enough effort, anything is possible.

My leadership path followed a different path. I’ve shared a bit of that here before but it bears repeating. I can remember being assigned as the leader of a Boy Scout Patrol, sort of a sub-group in the Boy Scout Troop (215) that I was a member of. It came as a bit of a surprise to me.

Whether on purpose or by accident, I was also given a Patrol of misfits—kids that maybe didn’t fit in elsewhere or who might have been, let’s say, difficult. Through what must have been extraordinary adult leadership, I was able to assist in leading this ragtag bunch in becoming a cohesive unit of overperforming Boy Scouts.

Another component of Boy Scouts is the annual Jamboree. They still do that. Part of the Jamboree is for individual Patrols to compete at things like fire starting, relay racing, tent building, and the like. I’ll jump to the end and tell you that my Patrol, the Owl Patrol, won every category.

That was quite obviously the beginning of my leadership development. I was given an opportunity. I stepped up. Did somebody see something in me? They must have. What was it? I have no idea. I was the underachieving kid from the wrong side of the tracks.

But I always did seem to thrive in Boy Scouts. I became an Eagle Scout. I was in the Order of the Arrow. I received the God & Country Award. Even today, I cannot tell you what resonated so strongly with me about Scouting but I loved everything about it.

Later, I got involved in Student Government in college. Since then I have held a number of leadership positions in our state and national physical therapy association, being elected President of my state and later elected to national office in the American Physical Therapy Association.

Was I born a leader? I suppose. In a way. But I surely had good teachers and role models all along the path. But what is a leader? And how does one become a leader? 

I was always taught to make a difference in the world. Just like I’ve never known how my uneducated parents instilled in me the absolute, beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt knowledge that I was going to college, I’ve never known how they also taught me that I was in this world to make a difference in this world.

Sometimes leadership is when opportunity meets ambition. Sometimes I saw doors and stepped through them. Other times, it was others who encouraged me.

But let me put it this way—anybody can become a leader. Everybody has something of that leader thing in their gene pool. And Everybody can develop leadership skills. I know. I teach leadership skills at many levels. You can become a more effective leader if you put in the effort, if you are open to learning, if you see yourself as a servant.

What? Servant? Yes..I’m convinced that all effective leadership is Servant Leadership. So I’ll end with a quote from Maryville native Dave Ramsey: “Bosses push. Leaders pull. Real leadership is servant leadership.” 

Camp Blackberry VIII

We just concluded the 8^th edition of Camp Blackberry. This is a week where my wife and I have all six of our grandchildren for the week, with field trips every day, great meals, art, crafts, lots of swimming, and lots of stories. We have our own song playlist and if you see us passing by on the road, we might all be singing at the top of our lungs. It seems like yesterday that they were all babies. Now they’re growing up, too fast for sure.

I’ve written about Camp Blackberry before. The idea isn’t ours—we got it from Dr. Bob and Sue Ramger, who did Camp Ramger for many years. We learned about their camp years ago and could hardly wait for our grandchildren to get old enough to start our own.

Ours is not a commercial operation and parents outside our genetic line need not apply. Someone asked me about going on vacation this week. Huh-uh. This is anything but a vacation. It is hard work and we usually crawl in bed at night exhausted. There is a reason God gives children to young people!

Our trips this week included kayaking on Indian Boundary Lake, tubing the Little River, horseback riding, pottery making at Studio 212, our annual visit to Lyles’ Farm, and our first visit to Dolly’s Pirates Voyage (oh my, it is awesome). We made it to Becky’s Grill and our final meal of the week is always Allison’s Catfish.

We cook. We sing. We share. We are together 24 hours a day. But what are we trying to accomplish? We want to be a part of our grandchildren’s lives in a different context. My wife spends a lot of time with them, as she keeps them during the day when their parents work. At Camp Blackberry, it is more a shared experience, with the cousins getting to know each other, sharing, arguing, but finding a way to do things together successfully.

Even though it is just one short week, there are lessons that we hope to teach. All of us will remember specific moments in our lives when things really change for us. I write about them here quite often. We don’t realize that slow, gradual evolution in our lives but quite vividly remember those epiphanous moments. We want to provide those moments of epiphany.

We want them to play together, so they become better teammates, family members, and co-workers. This is huge. When you’re young, you are by necessity focused on yourself. Maybe Camp Blackberry begins the journey about thinking about others, or at least how to function within a group.

We want them to be able to take instruction, so they become coachable and teachable, again, within the context of a group. It is occasionally important that they do something that they don’t understand, so that they learn to recognize how important it is to function within a group.

I’m not talking about following instructions without reason or to blindly do what those in authority tell us to do. It is our responsibility as parents/grandparents/leaders/teachers/coaches to make it understandable why we are asking someone to do something. The too simple “because I said so” is totally inadequate. We recognize that questioning authority is sometimes how great things are accomplished. We also want them to recognize that we must be responsible to a teacher, a coach, or a parent who is able to look at the big picture. That’s leadership (and more on that next week).

We want them to resolve conflict together, recognizing the greater good. To learn how to sacrifice self for the good of the larger group—for all of us want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

We want them to love life, to eat well, play hard, sleep enough, and love each other.