Saying Thanks

I was talking just this week with one of the best men Blount County has produced.  I'll not identify him here (I prefer to stay on the good side of federal law) but let's just say that his surgical skills were legendary.

He called me over and said "Joe, I've got a column idea for you.  Have you ever thought about writing a column about how people ought to express their appreciation, their gratitude more often?"

I decided then and there that it was definitely worthy of a column.

Some of you may recall the story of how my high school football coach  was such a great influence on me.  In a nutshell, I was an underachieving high school sophomore when I overheard him tell another teacher at my school "if he works at it, he can be a good one."

My work ethic after that became if not legendary, at least of  epic proportions when compared to the freshman Joe Black.  In other words, I decided to get to work.  I haven't stopped since.

And it all goes back to that high school football coach. 

Have I taken the opportunity to tell him how much I appreciated him?  Oh yeah.  Many times.  Every chance I get, really.

When I was inducted into the Blount County Sports Hall of Fame, I invited him to come.  Much to my surprise, he came. 

I hope you don't take it as any disrespect for the Hall of Fame, it is a tremendous honor and I am proud to be a member, but the greater honor was the presence of my high school football coach.  Such was the esteem that I held for him. 

But you know what...that sort of thing happens all the time. Coaches, teachers, and others shape the lives of young people every day.  

It probably happens more often for coaches, since they get our attention so thoroughly.   It is part of the job and even the reason a lot of coaches get into the business anyway. 

I mean, don't we all want to make a difference? 

Another person that had a lot of influence on my was a high school English teacher at my school.  It's not unfair to say that until I got in his class, English was not my best subject.  I've also said here before that there are English teachers galore rolling over in their graves that I've written a newspaper column for 29 years.

But he changed all that.  He stirred those creative fires.  He broadened my horizons.  His impact on my life was much more subtle than the football coach.  It took me years to truly appreciate what he had done for me.

I had never had much opportunity to tell him how much I appreciated his influence on me until we sat near each other at a Clayton Center concert last year.  I didn't pass on that opportunity. 

So how about you?  Is there a teacher or coach or other person that was a positive influence on your life?  Have you taken the opportunity to tell them about it?  To tell them how much you appreciate them?

Don't miss any opportunity that you might have.  Those opportunities diminish as the years go by.

And to that much-loved doctor:  Let me say how much I appreciate the professionalism and dedication that you displayed for so many years in this community.  You set standards that everyone in health care should aspire to.  You have certainly been a role model for me. 

Team Sport Kind of Guy

Some of my earliest memories are around football, when I was too young to play but wanted to play anyway.  I was in the 4th grade when I started playing.  I was on a team filled with big ol' 8th graders. 

What were my parents thinking?  (They were thinking that if this was something that I really wanted to do, then they would support met.)  I'm sure I never got to play in a real game that first year but I do remember practicing on the outfield of the old baseball field downtown. 

I have come to the conclusion that there are two types of athletes:  Team sport athletes and individual sport athletes. 

Except for a few years when I lived and breathed tennis, I've always been a team sports kind of guy.  

Even in those tennis days, I always preferred doubles tennis, which is definitely like being on a team.

Football and basketball have always been my sports.  Growing up, it was all about football.  I got most of my growth early so it looked like I was going to be rather large.  Alas, I quit growing when I was a sophomore in high school so those much-desired college football opportunities never materialized.

I was probably better suited for basketball anyway but when my high school football coach suggested I focus on football because I might have a future there, well basketball got abandoned.

Later on, in college, I became one of those gym rats who always had a basketball in their hands. I played regularly until I was 59.  I can still hit the three or take it to the hole (although much more slowly and awkwardly than I used to).  I may have missed my best sport.

Even the cycling that I do now is more of a team sport.  I rarely ride by myself, much preferring the company of a group ride. 

You may have seen us out there.  Unless we're strung out on a hill, you will find us in a tightly compacted pack, ebbing and flowing much like a flock of birds that you see flying across the sky that seem almost like a single unit.  I find great beauty in that.

That's part of the appeal to me--that teamwork mentality where you are part of a group.  In a group ride, you've got to trust those around you.  That trust builds friendships.  I've often said that most of the best friends I have are found on the back of a bicycle.

The same thing is true for a football team, a basketball team, any kind of team.   To be successful, you've got to trust your teammates.  You've got to invest in their success.To truly be a good team member, you've got to give up a lot of yourself.  You've got to give up your personal ambitions. 

But I truly believe that the shared joy of being on a team amplifies the happiness you can get from sports participation.  And if it is shared with people who also happen to be your friends, it is all the sweeter.

I've seen it many times on many different teams:  Kids that have grown up together, have been friends for years, celebrating a victory together.  Their joy is magnified by being part of something bigger than themselves.

For a team sport kind of guy, it doesn't get any better than that.

Everyday Birthdays

Just the other day, I got an inspirational message from  a friend that said "treat everybody like it is their birthday."  I liked that and I knew then I had the topic for this week's column.  Back to that thought in a moment.

I have a granddaughter who lived with us for several months.  Well, she and her whole family did.  

Their south Knoxville house had sold right before the second child was born.  He came a little early so had to spend a month in the NICU at Children's Hospital so the decision was made that they all move in with us.

We're lucky--we all get along quite well.  Maybe others will remember it differently but there were very few conflicts the whole time they were here.  My daughter-in-law really gets along great with her mother-in-law, destroying the stereotypes often found in that arena.

One of my fondest memories from those months was my granddaughter declaring every day as somebody's birthday.  We would all get home in the evening and she would declare with delight "it's Mommy's birthday!" 

Every day.  Everybody got to participate.  Occasionally even I would get to be the birthday designee.  Infrequently, it was her birthday.  But usually it was Mommy.

She would then squeal "happy birthday" and "let's sing happy birthday" (which we did).  We even occasionally did a cake and a candle.

I'm not sure she even realized what a birthday meant but she just knew that on that day, our family job was to make that person feel special.

How cool is that?

This little 2 year old bundle of joy and energy just wanted someone to feel special.  She never had to be prompted and if we came in at different times, she would make sure that we would know whose special day it was.

I would walk in the door:  "Daddy Joe!  It's Mommy's birthday!"

What if we cranky, overworked, it's-been-a-hard-day adults could adopt that attitude?  What if every day, we chose somebody to treat like it is their birthday.

Do you think that there would be more smiles?  More happiness?

I'm not talking about gift giving or cakes with candles.  I'm talking about doing all you can to make them feel special that day.  To demonstrate unconditional love on a daily basis. 

For all my grandkids, when their real birthday rolls around (alas, only once a year), their parents make sure it is a very special day.  Maybe a little extra for this one just because of that not-quite-a-birthday tradition.

How about you?  How about treating someone today like it is their birthday?  It will put a smile on your face.  

Icy Roads

Those of you that know me best may know that I seriously considered getting on my bicycle during all the icy mess this past week.  It's a well known fact that the cold usually doesn't deter me.

But the streets and the weather were so bad that I didn't hesitate at all to hit the bike trainer instead.  

Maybe I've finally beaten the insanity that gets me on the back of a bicycle at 10 degrees (but it probably had more to do with the fact that the power was out at my house). 

About that power outage that a whole lot of people shared with us--it was inconvenient but we didn't suffer.  We were blessed to have a gas-log fireplace which gave us enough heat to stay semi-comfortable and keep the pipes from freezing.  The cupboard was far from bare.

Let me interrupt this to sing the praises of those utility workers that stayed out in all this mess to work to get us all taken care of.  My goodness, what sacrifices!   We waited patiently, knowing the hardships that they were enduring, all just to get our power turned back on.

We were among the lucky ones.  We had a source of food, heat, and options.  We still had our children's houses to go to--warm houses with plenty of room for us.  But we opted to stay in our own home, warmed by the fire and bellies full, suffering very little.

Lots of people had neither heat nor options.  Lots of people were cold and hungry.

The Blount County Chapter of the Red Cross provided a place for anyone in need, offering food and shelter.  From all reports, they were busy.

Think about being hungry and cold and waiting for the utility company to get your power turned back on.  That's not really too bad.  There might come a time when you will look back at it all and laugh. 

But what if it wasn't temporary?  What if you had little hope of the power being turned back on or the cupboard filled?  In this weather.  We don't stop to think about hunger and homelessness in Blount County but it is very real. 

In big cities, homelessness is obvious.  People pushing grocery carts, asleep in alleys and on park benches. Homelessness in Blount County is mostly a different picture.  There are lots of folks here that are in housing that we all would consider inadequate.  No running water.  No electricity.  No insulation.  Living in cars. Multiple families in a too small house.

There are resources but hardly enough.  Second Harvest Food Bank is there to help with food.  

Welcome Table, a program available at local churches, serves a lot of people every month.  Family Promise gives shelter to families without a place to go.  They do what they can but hunger persists.  Housing needs persist.

People don't choose to be hungry or homeless.  Most often, it is circumstances beyond their control.

We don't stop to think about it, but pretty much every one of us could be in that category, not knowing where our next meal was coming from.  Not having a warm place to spend the night.

Imagine being uninsured (or even underinsured) and then having a catastrophic injury or illness.  

How are you going to pay for that?  And then what will you have left to live on?

You too could end up hungry.  Or homeless.  Or desperate.  

Being a Role Model

One of my heroes died recently.  His name was Bob Shubert and he spent most of his life living in our foothills.

Bob Shubert played high school football in 1965, when I was 12 years old and now, almost 50 years later, I still remember his football number.   (He was  #88.) Now THAT'S what you call making an impression.

Growing up, he was the coolest guy I knew.  Played the guitar.  Wore the cool clothes.  Had the cool hair.  But most important to me, he played football.  He was bigger than life for sure.

And there were others.  Peno Campbell, #30.  For some reason I remember numbers.  Pat Harper #20.  Butch Crabtree, #12.  DeFlabb (not his real name) Messamore #76.  

These were the guys that were enough older than me that I could look up to them and be in awe.  I'm not sure I could have spoken back to them if any of them had ever tried to talk to me.  I would have been completely blocked.

I watched the way they walked, the way they talked, the way they related to others.  If they jumped off the bridge, well, I would too.

Such is the influence that sports stars (and others) can have on young folks. We just simply cannot forget the impact we might have on others.

I remember when  Charles Barkley declared that he was no one's role model.  He didn't want that job.

Well, guess what...we don't have that choice.  Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, there's a chance that someone is watching how you behave.

Oh, maybe they're not looking at you as a role model, trying to copy your behaviors, mannerisms, and speech, but they're looking at you.  Maybe they're simply judging you for their own purposes.

Even those of you that know me well might not know how much I love music.  I used to sing in a gospel quartet and once upon a time played the trumpet (and can still play a decent harmonica) so I don't think I'm without some musical talent.

But I listen to music a lot.  My tastes are broad and might easily be called eclectic.  From Robinella to ZZ Ward.  Ingrid Michaelson to Old Crow Medicine Show. Rachmaninoff to Kenny Chesney.

And in my training room, I play music pretty much all the time, always from personal playlists.  This past fall, I was playing songs from an artist that I thought I liked.  But since there were teenagers in the room ,I started listening to the words.  Usually I just listen to the music and the beat.  I'm not looking for meaning or messages in music.

But I didn't like some of the words in these songs.   Nor the messages in his words.

I'm against censorship and know that we live in an imperfect world but I also believe that we have an obligation not to fill our heads with garbage.  If we hear a word or a phrase enough, I believe it becomes acceptable in our brains and then might come out in our words or deeds.  "Little ears, be careful what you hear...."

So that artist's stuff got deleted.  I don't want anybody, especially those young folks that I have a responsibility to, thinking it's OK with me and then that it's OK for them.

It's just all a part of that role model stuff.

Super Bowl Commercials

Like everybody else, I watched the Super Bowl for the commercials.  Well...not really...but they sure do make bathroom breaks difficult. And just like every other office in town, my office compared notes on Monday morning about which commercial was the best.

My vote going for the Dodge commercial featuring a bevy of centenarians.  It consisted of words of wisdom from those 100 years old and older.  Among the advice were the following (adapted especially for the sports pages):

Learn from your mistakes.  That makes sense.  It's often been said that we need to practice smarter.  Practicing wrong is simply practicing to repeat the wrong.  Good coaches are invaluable in this process.

Live for now.  We're not promised tomorrow.  I've often heard coaches tell their players to enjoy their games, that it will pass too soon.  Being in the injury business, I can tell you that many seasons are ended by injuries.  Enjoy every moment.

There are miracles all around you.  1969 Mets.  Doug Flutie's Hail Mary pass.  The 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team's victory over Russia.  T.D. Blackman's block of a field goal.

Be strong.  Well, yeah.  But it's not always your muscles.  Sometimes it is your character.  How do you behave in the face of adversity?  How do you respond when the odds are stacked against you?  What do you do when the other team scores 28 points in the first period?

Don't complain.  Just shut up and play.  I've seen a lot of games.  I mean...a LOT of games.  Basketball.  Football.  Baseball.  Football.  Volleyball.  Wrestling.  Track.  You name it--my resume is full of it.

So let me tell you some of the things I've learned in all these years.  Coaches that don't play your kid are not trying to harm your child's future.  Officials that make the call that goes against your team late in the game are not just trying to make sure your team loses. 

The other team is not _______ (dirty, cheating...your choice).  They are individuals just like you are.  They want to win just like you do.  And no, God is not on your side, so praying for a victory is a waste of time.  He has lots more important things to do.

Never ever forget where you came from.  If you're on top, remember what got you there (effort, practice, dedication, coaches, teammates, a great support system).  Most of the time, your success depends less on you and more on everything around you. 

Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.  I never was a trash talker.  I don't really understand why anyone has to talk so much during a game.  I've been called an old fuddy-duddy (yeah, I really said that) for that opinion but my advice for those that talk too much: Shut up and play the game.

Don't be a sissy.  OK...that one's way too sexist for me.   But what they're really trying to tell you is don't be soft.  Don't whine.  Play hard.  Give it all you've got.  It sort of reminds me of my other favorite Super Bowl commercial which talked about running like a girl.  Ain't no such thing.

Don't be afraid.  Never.  Ever. 

And then there was that Budweiser puppy thing.

Eating Well on a Budget

I grew up in a working family.  My father dropped out of school in the 6th grade to go to work in the local hosiery mill to support his family after his own dad had died.  He worked in one factory or another until age 55 when heart disease forced him into disability.

That's when my mom went back to work, first in a school cafeteria and then later in the same factory where my dad had worked.

I guess my first real work was mowing yards at about age 10.  As I grew, I moved on to farm work.  

By 12, I was on everybody's first list for hauling hay.  We sold honey from our own bees, had a huge garden, and bartered with neighbors for things we didn't grow.

Maybe we didn't have a lot but I was never hungry and never without a good roof over my head. 

When I was 14, I became good friends with a fellow whose family were tenant farmers.  That's where you worked on someone's farm and in return were provided housing on that farm.  I'm sure there was some pay but it wasn't much.

What I remember about those days is that whatever we could catch or kill, his dad would cook for us.  And mostly make it edible.  

About that same time, I became friends with another kid.  I remember visiting him in his home and sitting in his room.  The walls were covered with newspapers, which seemed odd.   Where we might have wallpaper, he had newspapers. 

Some time later I was talking about that with a quite wise adult.  He told me that it was because that family didn't have any insulation in their house.  They had covered the walls with newspapers to keep out the cold.  They probably made paste out of flour and water.

It was then that I began to see what real poverty was.  And it was all around.  My football teammate who didn't smell the best because his family worked on a pig farm and had only a well pump for water.

Kids that had breakfast and lunch at school because that was really the only food they could get.  My classmate that was so hungry that he tried to eat the flour straight from the bag and got it all over the kitchen.

I got challenged this week on all this diet and nutrition stuff I've been writing about lately.  Oh, it's not what you think--I've had nothing but support for the basic premise that we need less flour and sugar in our diets.

No, it was about the cost. 

I had admitted that it was more expensive to eat healthy and certainly took more time in shopping, food preparation, and cooking.  It really does. 

So how can someone who is struggling to make ends meet even begin to be able to afford a healthy diet?

It's not easy.  But it can be done.  You really need to do two things:  Eat smarter and shop smarter.

Eat fruit and vegetables.  You don't have to have grass-fed beef to improve what you do eat.  Just cut back on sugar and flour.  Fill your buggy from the perimeter of the grocery store, where you find more whole foods.

Grow a garden.  Buy fresh vegetables when in season and freeze them.  Plan your meals and plan your shopping. 

You don't have to have organic. Just do a little research and you'll find good alternatives.  Cook more/eat out less.  Sodas, junk food, and processed meats may fill you up for less but you'll pay a lot more in the long run in health care costs.