Ode to Dr. Barrett

I doubt that he would have remembered me a week after my semester in his class was over.  I should have but never got around to thanking him.  But he changed my life forever.  

Dr. Richard Barrett was an English teacher at the University of Tennessee and I had enrolled in his English Literature class to complete the requirements of my curriculum after two years of college.  Truth be known, I really wasn't that interested in the class, I just knew that I needed it to graduate.

Let me go back a bit.   I started college majoring in Wildlife Management.  I thought that I could find a way to hunt and fish for a living.   Along the way, knee surgery and an encounter with a physical therapist (you may have heard this story before) prompted a change in majors to Physics/Physical Education with the intention of going on to physical therapy school.

The only problem was that I had spent two years "enjoying" college, not really applying myself.  My Grade Point Average was somewhere well south of average and physical therapy was really hard to get into. 

OK, so go back one more step.  My only academic distinction in high school was that I was the football player with the best grades.  I even got a trophy to affirm it (The Paul & Naomi Arp Academic Award).  My high school guidance counselor wanted me to go to trade school.

And English!?!  Well, let's just say that I was not any high school English teacher's favorite student.   I thought (still do) that diagramming sentences was a complete waste of time and that's what I remember most from high school English. 

I've said it here before a couple of times, but I was never NOT going to college.  It just wasn't an option.  I've never understood how my parents taught that lesson so well but they did.

Now back to Dr. Barrett's class.  I show up with a shallow academic history, no real study habits, and a career of underachievement in the classroom.   Athletically, I was OK--I have my high school football coach to thank for that (another story, many times told)--but academics...that was another story altogether.

I don't remember the assignment but I do remember the fear when he asked me to stay after class one day.  He had looked up my transcript and wanted answers to why my work and my grades were so far below my abilities.  He told me I was a huge academic underachiever.   In a nutshell, he challenged me to do better work. 

At that point, no one had ever expressed any confidence in my academic ability.   Nobody had ever really believed in me.

Oh, my mom always told me how smart I was but she also told me to always tell the girls at school that I was the most handsome boy in the school and, well, I knew that wasn't the truth.

And then there was my Junior High principal, Mr. Rothwell who had high hopes for me but I'm pretty sure it was because he was a family friend. 

But this was different.  Somebody, a college professor no less, had seen something in me that I hadn't even seen in myself.   It was a moment..an epiphany...that changed me forever.

I'm pretty sure that I ended up with a B in his class but that may have been my last B in college.   I turned it around academically and, as they say, the rest is history. 

Sometimes all it takes is somebody that believes in you.

Sandy Hook: An American Tragedy

Today I’m going to do what pretty much every socially responsible columnist has done all week:  write about the tragedies at Sandy Hook Elementary School.  If you expect great insight or a list of solutions from me, you might be disappointed.  

As a parent, burying my own kids was (and is) my worst nightmare.   I lived in dread of that call in the middle of the night that there had been a wreck and that, well, you know what can follow after that.

I've got 5 grandchildren and 1 on the way.  The oldest is a 6 year old first graders.  Just like those kids at Sandy Hook.  Something happening to one of them is unfathomable.  It simply cannot happen.  God, please take me instead.

Those teachers and that principal that rushed to help?  HEROES.  So are the law enforcement officers, the EMT’s, and the firemen who rushed in.   The horrors that will inhabit their dreams for the rest of their lives are indescribable. 

I’m really glad today that I don’t have to drop a child off at school tomorrow and the tomorrows after that.  I’m not sure I’m strong enough.  I would want to barricade them at home and keep them there safe forever. 

Columbine. Virginia Tech. Aurora, Colorado.  For the next few months, a lot of people will try and figure out what to do about all these horrible episodes.  I think we all have to expect some changes in our lives.

Could more School Resource Officers (SRO’s) help?  I would think so.  I know I feel safer when they’re on duty.

Greater security in the schools?   My wife worked in a local elementary school for several years and she said that her school was quite secure but if someone wanted in bad enough (as in bad enough to shoot off the locks), they could get in.

More gun control?  I don’t know.   I don’t understand the need for the general public to own assault weapons but it does seem common sense that if you make guns illegal that only criminals will own guns.   I also know that this boy’s mother should never have had enough of an arsenal to take on a small army.  In her home.  Accessible to her mentally ill son.   And her son was most certainly mentally ill.

Improved care for the mentally ill?  Most assuredly.   We have a huge and largely unmet need for mental health services.  Most of our homeless are also mentally ill so we can help two problems at once.

Some have called for quicker and broader institutionalization of the mentally ill.   We currently incarcerate 25% of the world’s population.  Let me put that another way:  In America, we have 5% of the world's population but 25% of those behind locked doors.  I don’t think bars are the answer.

Should our families be more responsible, more accountable?  There is little doubt that this was a dysfunctional family.  Dad was apparently out of the picture and Lanza's brother hadn’t seen him in over 2 years.  

Less violence in our everyday world?  Surely.   What used to be tasteless has become commonplace.   Things that are morbid and downright horrific have become a normal part of culture. Profanity in public has become acceptable.  Too many of us seem to seek the darkness instead of the light.  

What we need are people ready to make tough decisions.  From parents that say no to leaders that leave partisanship at the door.  From people willing to give up individual freedoms to better protect those most vulnerable to reasonable, rational, practical thinking by all of us.

Zeke Koko

If you read the Sports Pages, you probably know the name.   You know that he was an outstanding player for the Alcoa High School football team this year.

 You might recall that his Junior season was ended before it even got started when he tore his ACL in a scrimmage game the week before the 2011 MOC Football Jamboree.

But you probably don’t know much more about Zeke Koko.  I think it’s time to fix that.

 First let me tell you about who he is today.   A tireless worker and an undeniable leader for the AHS football team, Zeke demonstrates heart and desire and all those things that coaches preach and fans expect.

 I can tell you that in the months after surgery last year to repair his damaged ACL, Zeke did everything possible to make sure that his knee was as healthy as possible.  Rehab is never easy and sometimes painful but he never flinched.

Anything and everything that Alcoa Head Athletic Trainer Peggy Bratt and I threw at Zeke, he did with determination rarely seen in any high school athlete.  We demanded a lot of him and he did it all and then asked for more.

So finally his Senior season arrives and Zeke is finally healthy.   Then in week 4, in a game against Greenville High, Zeke tore a ligament in his right thumb.  That forced him to play in a cast until the Monday before the Tornadoes’ quarterfinal playoff game against CAK.

 Do I need to tell you that Zeke hardly missed a beat during all that?  

 If you have the good fortune to meet Zeke today, you will discover a young man that is mature beyond his years with a smile as big as the Montana sky that lights up a room when he walks in.

 A young man that will look you in the eye and give you the firm handshake that too many of his generation seem to lack.    I’ve actually never met his parents but this young man has got to be a testimony to their character and parenting skills.  

 Zeke moved to America from Sudan with his parents at age 2.   In the ensuing years, the family grew to include four younger brothers to Zeke who don’t even have to go past the front door to find a solid role model of their own.  

Good coaches ask their players “what’s next” with the admonition “don’t let this be the best thing you ever do.”  I’m not sure what’s next for Zeke.  He wants to play college football and he deserves that opportunity.    But what I really look forward to seeing is what he does with his life after football.  It’s going to be something special.

Take whatever you have, and give it away...

A buddy of mine tells the story of going fishing with his grandfather when he was young.  They all lived near Mobile Bay and fishing was almost a way of life.

This was my friend's first trip out into the ocean.  At their first stop,  they caught maybe a dozen fish, and then my friend watched in horror as his grandfather chopped up his prize catch into chum.

Grandad had something bigger in mind, bigger fish, that the chum would bring in.  But first, he had to give up something (the small fish), acting on faith that he would be able to catch bigger fish. 

Would it have been better to go on home with the small fish and maybe feed your family or try and catch the big fish and feed your neighbor's family too?

Life is a lot like that.

Do we settle for a decent job because it is a steady income and the benefits are decent or do we work to get the job that truly makes us happy?

Do we settle for a certain relationship because, well, it's the best thing that has come along yet and I'm not getting any younger, or do we wait for that perfect somebody? 

I remember counseling a young employee that was struggling with relationships.    To be honest about it, she had dated a string of what I will call "losers."   I asked her if she wanted to wait on "Mr. Right" or settle for "Mr. Almost-Good-Enough."   She waited and found her dream guy.

Do we settle for "good enough" or do we go for the best?  It's all a risk but if you think back on it, haven't a lot of the good things that have happened to you in your life involved some risk?

You risked asking that cute girl out on a date and now 38 years later, you're still married.   You weren't sure that you could make it through graduate school and you were quite sure you couldn't move half way across the country but you did and you could.

I'm a firm believer that we have to take some risks.

 I am just as firm a believer that you have to give in order to get.

 I didn't always think that way.   I can remember when I was little and it was Christmas and everybody said it was better to give than to receive and I just didn't understand that at all.

Giving of ourselves is the key to both our success and our happiness.   When you get to the point in a relationship when it seems better for you to do something for your significant other than it is for them to do something for you, it is magic. 

Try this:   Do something nice for somebody else in a way that they don't know who did it.  And then resist the urge to tell them.   Now think of it from their perspective:  Someone thought enough of me to do something nice but didn't want the credit.  How special is that?

There is a gospel song that I really like that includes the line "if you want more lovin' than your heart can hold, if you want to stand taller if the truth were told,  take whatever your have and give it away."

I like that.

 

All's Well that Ends Well?

I'm going to tell you a story today.  This is a true story.  No exaggeration...no embellishment.  

Not too long ago, my wife and I were riding bicycles on a gorgeous fall afternoon.  She's new to the game but seems to really be enjoying the bicycle.  Sunday afternoon seems to be our time to do this together.

Although most of my riding is still going to be with a decidedly faster crowd, I have enjoyed these nice little rides, (although that's not really what my wife thinks of them:  30 miles to her is half-way across the country).

On this particular day, we were slowly climbing up a long not-too-steep hill near where we live, when along came a motorized vehicle whose driver really didn't think we should be riding bikes on that particular stretch of road (or any road, for that matter).

To say that he violated the Jeff Roth 3 foot law (an excellent piece of legislation passed by Senator Doug Overbey that requires drivers of motorized vehicles to give bicycles at least 3 feet in clearance as they pass) is an understatement.  

I motioned for him to come back, not for a fight but to show him that I am a human being whose life he had just put in jeopardy.  

I got my wish.   Let's just say that the rest of this encounter was rather ugly.  I stayed calm because I feared for my safety and that of my wife.  In an attempt to personalize the encounter, I told him my name (big mistake), but he knew who I was anyway.  

When he sped off, I wrote down his license tag number.   By the next morning, I knew who he was.  

For the next couple of days, I agonized over what to do.   Press charges?  Have law enforcement officers pay him a visit?  My biking buddies wanted to form a posse and pay him a visit.  None of that appealed to my wife.

All I could think of was retaliation.  But fear and anxiety compelled me to do nothing.  I was angry, frustrated...in a word-victimized.

Then on the third day, I came to realize that retaliation was not the way to go.  That I didn't need revenge but that I needed to reach out to this guy with kindness.  Answered prayer?  Probably, but I didn't think of it in those terms at that moment.

Still, I had reason to believe, based on our only encounter, that I might not be received well at his house.  So I did nothing.

So the next day, I'm at work and our receptionist came to me and told me that there was a guy on the phone that really wanted to talk to me.   She gave his first name and I remember thinking,  could it be the same guy?  So I took the call.

It turns out it was him.   He had called to apologize.   He was genuinely remorseful.   He asked for forgiveness and I gave it to him. 

The absolute best case scenario for this whole event was for this fellow to realize that he made a mistake, apologize, and then change the way he treats bicycle riders.  I think that's what has happened.

Despite the fact that our initial encounter was really, really bad, I truly believe that this guy is deep down a good guy.   I also believe that the roads are safer because of this episode.

And maybe both he and I are better people because of it. 

Childhood Obesity Rates Improve!

OK, so maybe we've turned the corner.  Maybe the epidemic is over and better days are ahead.

I picked up USA Today while on a trip recently and one of the inside headlines read "School Meals Combat Obesity."  This is a topic that I've had some rather heated discussions about recently. 

You probably know that I spend a pretty good amount of time these days around high school athletes and their coaches.  Along about the start of the school year, new cafeteria restrictions were being blamed for hungry football players.

It seems the portions were perceived as being inadequate to supply the nutritional needs of young men most of whom were trying to get bigger for their sport.

Let me take you back a lot of years.  During my early school days, my mom worked part-time in the high school cafeteria.   Before I got to the high school, she had taken a full-time job at the local grammar school.

But she left a lot of friends in that high school cafeteria.  Friends who knew well who Jretta Black's son was.  And they took real good care of Jretta's boy.

You want a little more chicken?  How about an extra roll?  Want more dessert?  At one time, they even kept a pack of hot dogs in the refrigerator for me.

You see, I was a 185 pound offensive lineman/linebacker who couldn't gain weight no matter how much I ate.  It probably didn't help that I was always doing something outside of school and football.  Bagging groceries at the White Store (#32, by the way, for those of you remember that venerable local chain), "hauling" hay, mowing yards.  

That I was treated differently by my mother's friends is undeniable.  That it might have been unfair to other kids who needed extra food because they were hungry is likely.  

I can appreciate what football players are going through who are subjected to healthy eating initiatives that were put into place to help curb our obesity epidemic.  Let me state for the record that portion sizes for a 270 pound football lineman should be drastically different from the 120 pound chess club member.

But when I read that childhood obesity rates had ebbed in several areas around the country that had been dealing proactively with the issue, it helped me understand. 

Said Dr. James Marks, a pediatrician and senior vice president for the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (an immensely respected organization dedicated to improving our world):  "We've had 30 years of increasing rates of obesity, but we might be seeing the turning point for this epidemic."

In Mississippi, obesity in children in grades K-5 dropped from 43% in 2007 to 37.3% in 2011.  That's huge in our most obese state. 

I preach the sermon all the time about how our kids need to be more active.  That's an essential part of the culture change that is necessary to see real improvement.    But kids have also got to learn to eat smarter, making better food choices. 

And if they're not going to get it at home, I think it's OK that they get that portion of their education at school as well.

 

Pitch count is everything

I may have seen more problems this past summer with the shoulder and elbow among young softball and baseball players than ever in my career.  "Little League Shoulder" and "Little League Elbow" are catch-all terms used to describe pain and dysfunction that is far more complex than simple names might imply.

Baseball and softball seasons have been over for a while for almost everybody.   Even the World Series has been played, short as it was.

Yes, I know about "fall ball" and it does seem like preparations for spring seasons are just around the corner but my point is about to be that now is the most crucial time to do what is necessary to protect young arms during the lull between games and serious training.

One of the many journals that I take is Sports Health.   An article entitled "Prevention of Elbow Injuries in Youth Baseball Pitchers" in the most recent edition confirmed that now is the time to address this topic.

The authors of this piece described the problems leading to shoulder and elbow problems among baseball players (but really, among all throwing athletes).  The biggest risk factor is pitch quantity.  A function of that is pitches per game, innings pitched, rest between outings,  and pitching on multiple teams.   Pitchers that also play catcher must also count those throws against their pitch count.

We know that throwing mechanics are huge.  Bad mechanics mean excess stress on the shoulder and elbow and sooner later something is going to get hurt. 

So I asked Josh Pitts, pitching instructor at Dr. K's Baseball & Softball Academy located next door to the clinic where I spend most of my time in the Cherokee Athletic Facility, what he sees as the biggest problems in throwing mechanics.

#1:  Throwing with a "short arm," which mainly means leading with the elbow during the throwing motion.   Following close behind are bad habits in their throwing motion, throwing with their arm instead of using their whole body, lack of leg strength or failure to use the strength that they have, and balance issues.  All those are correctible with proper instruction.

We've known for a long time that throwing athletes need to have strong supportive musculature to be able to throw without injury.  We also know that it is most important to have good strength in those muscles that decelerate the arm.  But most people don't realize how important leg and core strength are both to performance and to injury prevention.

I have long railed against teaching too young kids how to throw a curve ball but Josh and the authors of the article cited above don't see that as a huge problem.   Sure, if a youngster is going to be taught how to throw a curve, they need to learn proper technique, but it may be more simply pitch count, innings pitched, and rest between outings that determines injury rates than exactly what pitches are being thrown.

I am still dismayed when a 12 year old comes into my office and claims to be able to throw five different pitches.  I will go on the record here as saying that no 12 year old pitcher in the world needs to be trying to throw  that many different pitches.   That kid was also in my office for a reason.