Boys 2 Men

Just last week, I got this from a long-time reader.  I felt it was worthy of sharing in its entirety.

“Football gave my boys something I could not.  Wow, that has been hard to write and hard to admit. 

Let me start this story and tell you that I was a rabid athlete, from a long line of rabid athletes.  I played every sport that I could play….I played baseball on the boy’s team at Southside at age 8..then my parents found out there were actually girls softball teams that played on fields instead of the cow pasture on Huffstetler Road.  I played football daily in my yard with my older brother, neighbors, visiting all-stars such as Ray Porter, Big Chris Whitehead, Little Chris Whitehead and others. 

I woke up every day in the summer to get my chores around the house done and then sat waiting on Ken Shepard Sr. to open the Lanier Gym at 10 am where I stayed until he would run us out.  I went to Greenback gym where my uncle is a legendary coach in that community (Bill Satterfield), for any opportunity to play against Kim Berry and hopes to get some coaching time from the revered Coach Ken Byrd.  If I heard that Dawn Marsh was anywhere in Springbrook playing basketball, I went to get beaten by her every time. 

Before you assume my parents were like the new show ‘Little Tykes,’ with my dad driving in the car with me running beside shouting ‘run Forrest run’…it wasn’t like that.  The drive to play, compete, and win was all mine.  

So with that history, if you would assume that both my boys left the hospital in Peyton Manning Jerseys you would be wrong.  I wanted my boys to be physically active.  I coached them both in Soccer, being the only mother in the league for several years.  They swam every summer for Green Meadow.  They both played baseball, have more hours on the trails in the Great Smokey Mountains than most adults, and often can be seen on the local lakes in our Sea Kayak.  In other words, they are very active. 

So when both the boys asked to be signed up for football, I froze.  I talked to old coaches, Joe Huff, to men in my life that played football, my mother who watched my brother take hit after hit on Friday Nights.  After much discussion I tried to find a team that would have some of their peers on it so at least they would continue to make memories with the friends they are around in our community.  I went to the sporting goods store and bought the safest mouthpiece, gel pads, and socks I could find. 

The boys were playing football.   The first practice I was nauseated.  Not for fear of safety, but feeling that they were losing precious time that they could be reading great novels, listening to great music, eating great food, engaging with great people.

Surprise:  The game of football and more importantly the coaches gave my boys something I could not give them..gasp.  I saw them go to practice with enthusiasm, say yes sir and no sir to a male authority figure, push themselves physically every day, not give up, learn organization skills to get homework done in order to get to practice, and come home exhausted every day with a feeling of accomplishment from pushing themselves both mentally and physically. 

I watched them learn the game and love the game.  I watched them get their rear ends handed to them, and get up and do it again.  I watched them walk with pride on and off the field when they were in uniform.  I spent the year walking the sideline at every game, not saying a word, but unable to sit down.

I watched my sons take a small step into manhood.  I watched my younger son accomplish a victory in the Super Bowl where the coaches got every player to play at their personal best every player, because it was their only hope of winning. 

I am now a football mom…last weekend my youngest son summed up his thoughts as we got out at Everett Park for a basketball game--he glanced over at the football field and told me “Mom, just seeing the football field makes my mouth water.” 

And if you see Coach Latham, Coach Dockery, Coach Overman, Coach Marcus, or Coach Ricky Maples, thank them for teaching the young boys of Blount County the love of the game and leading my boys into manhood, even though the thought of them being Men makes my eyes water.”  (April Satterfield-Stadel)

Wow!  I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Texting and Forrest Gump

I'll issue a spoiler alert right now:  This has nothing to do with sports or athletics or being healthy but might have everything to do with living longer.  Yes, I know you're in the sports pages and maybe this is not what you turned here for but this is some serious stuff.

I just sat behind a jeep that was sitting behind an SUV at a red light.  Actually it was a red light that turned green and then turned red again before any of us moved.

You see, the SUV driver never moved, even though the light was green.   The jeep driver never blew her horn but did at one point throw up her hands in desperation.  I didn't want to blow my horn either because I didn't want the jeep driver to misinterpret my toot.

So we all sat there. 

And then finally when the light turned green for the second time, the jeep driver blew her horn and the SUV driver raised up her head and then VERY slowly pulled through the intersection.  

The jeep driver turned right and I followed the SUV driver through the intersection.  At the next intersection, I was able to pull up beside her.  What I saw was a middle-aged woman busy on her smart phone.  I can only assume she was texting.

Now I try and not jump to conclusions but I'm pretty sure that she missed that first green light because she was busy texting or reading an e-mail or on Facebook or something.   And if that isn't "distracted driving," I don't know what is.

Monday of this week I was driving to Nashville and was almost there when I fell behind a car in the left lane that was going probably 20 miles per hour below the speed limit.   This was a part of I-40 that was undergoing a lot of construction with concrete barriers leaving only a narrow pathway.  

When I finally was able to pull around him, passing him on the right (is that a confession?), I could see clearly that he was busy texting on his phone.  

Are these people crazy?   Let's forget for a moment that it is against the law.   In the case of the lady in the SUV, it was at least disrespectful (and they get mad at me for riding my bike on a country lane). On I-40 near Nashville, it was dangerous.

And don't get me started on teenagers.  Our youngest drivers not only think they're invincible but they think they are already great drivers.  Give me a blue-haired geriatrician behind the wheel of a lead sled any time instead of a teenager with a cell phone. 

A 2010 National Highway Traffic Safety Administration report stated that "driver distraction was the cause of 18 percent of all fatal crashes." A Virginia Tech Transportation Institute study found that "text messaging creates a crash risk 23 times worse than driving while not distracted."

Arguing against texting while driving is a lot like arguing about global warming.  Everybody that does it thinks it is safe just like too many people that don't live near a vanishing glacier imagine that our weather patterns are simply a normal weather cycle.

The laws of the state might be argued but the "Law of Common Sense" seems beyond argument.  Like Forrest said, "stupid is as stupid does."

 

 

Athletic Skin Problems

If you remember, last week I wrote about some of the more catastrophic sports injuries that we see.  Like broken bones and concussions.   Today I want to talk about skin problems.

It might seem like I’ve gone from one extreme to another but skin problems can be pretty serious on their own.

One of the most common sports that we see this is in wrestling.  A big part of that is due to a lot of skin-to-skin contact between wrestlers.   Wrestlers have a tendency to share those things.

And the wrestling mat can get infected too.   Some organisms can live for a long time on even a dry surface.  That’s why wrestling mats are cleaned on a regular basis.

The big fear among skin problems is MRSA, usually pronounced “mur-suh.”   MRSA is actually an acronym for Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus, a bacteria that through evolution has become resistant to many commonly used antibiotics.  In other words, a lot of antibiotics just don’t work against MRSA.

And MRSA can be one nasty bug.  Improperly treated, it can migrate to organs and cause really bad health problems.

A lot of the blame for the emergence of MRSA is placed on the over-prescription of antibiotics, especially when the source of the infection isn’t a bacteria at all. 

Put simply, a lot of childhood and adolescent problems are just not produced by bacteria.  The common cold?  It’s a virus.  Antibiotics won’t work.  Same for a lot of ear infections.   Anything that might be viral can’t be effectively treated with antibiotics. 

 
I remember well an argument that I had with my then-medical student daughter.   She was going to be a pediatrician and had declared that the only children that she would prescribe antibiotics for would be those that truly had a bacterial infection.

I told her then that parents that bring their children to her would almost always want to walk away with that magic pink medicine (an antibiotic). 

She’s now Dr. Whitney Dee, a pediatrician at Maryville Pediatric Clinic and it is a battle that she fights almost every day.   If parents only understood that if their child doesn’t have a bacterial infection an antibiotic just won’t help and, what’s worse, that they may ultimately be more susceptible to more serious infections like MRSA...well...her job would be easier.

Oh, and she wanted me to mention that just because snot is green, it doesn’t mean there is a sinus infection.  It just means, well, that the snot is green.

Another common skin problem among athletes is Impetigo.  Impetigo is quite common and very contagious.  The problem is that it can be transmitted through contact with clothing, towels, or other items.  

We see a fair amount of impetigo in football as well as wrestling.  As with a lot of bacteria, it tends to thrive in a moist, dark environment (dryness and sunlight can kill many bacteria) so we will often see it develop underneath shoulder pads.

Football players are not among the cleanest of athletes that we see either and shared toweling, clothes, and pads can help spread the infection.  Several of our schools spray their football locker rooms with an airborne disinfectant in an attempt to kill those same bacteria.

Since a lot of the bad odor in locker rooms (you might just have to trust me on this one) comes from bacteria, it is sometimes amazing how fresh those locker room smells after spraying.

A third problem that is far less troublesome is dermatitis.  Dermatitis is actually an inflammation of the skin so it responds to anti-inflammatory treatments such as hydrocortisone cream.  Since dry skin makes it easier to get dermatitis, keeping your skin moist with lotion is important, especially this time of the year when cold air leaves your skin quite dry.

Just always remember that effective treatment of any skin problem usually requires an accurate diagnosis, and for that you need to see your pediatrician or family practitioner.

Little Eyes Are Watching!

I've written pretty much the same column before.  Even indicted my childhood chum here before.  But some stories are worth telling again.

I must have been about 10.  I was attending a high school basketball game and sitting on the balcony with my friend Jimmy Greenway.   We were sitting right over the main entrance to the gym and as people would enter, we would drop popcorn on them.

Keep in mind this was the early 60's, when "big" hair was all the rage.  We were generally aiming for those bouffant hairdo's.  You had to time it just right to get them as they walked by.  We hit a few.

A woman with a small son-he was maybe 4-sitting in the stands behind us turned to her son and said "don't turn out like them."

It shocked me.  Bothered me badly (obviously, since I remember it so distinctly 50 years later).  And it changed me.

Young and old, let me remind you of an absolute fact:  Somewhere, sometime someone little is looking at you, watching how you behave.  

It might be someone you know.  It might be a complete stranger.   But they are modeling their own behavior after yours.  If they know you and admire you, they might dream of being just like you.

I generally like Charles Barkley.  I liked the way he played the game.  He has a great sense of humor and is an excellent basketball commentator.  But when he declared that he was "nobody's role model," he lost me.

He may not choose to be a role model, but he is.   When a professional athlete admits to an extramarital affair, those that admire that athlete just inched closer to accepting that as normal behavior.  When a college athlete describes an incident as consensual sex, it becomes a little more acceptable to too many people.

I hear coaches tell their players about this stuff all the time.  I hear them say "when you are in the community, you are representing yourself, your team, your family."

I guarantee you that there is somebody looking at every member of the MHS and AHS state championship football teams and dreaming of being "just like them."  In every way. 

How do you act when you are in line to pick up a burger?   Do you treat the clerk with respect?  Are you patient?  Do you offer someone that is struggling your place in line?

Or do you do like I saw a couple of older guys do last weekend at the movie?  When told that they were in the wrong wing of the theater, they acted as though the teenage ticket-checker had insulted them.  One guy jabbed his straw down in his popcorn with such force that he spilled part of the contents.  That one was laughable (and I did laugh).

Maybe we learn how NOT to act from watching someone else.  But I never wanted to be that person so when I heard what that young mother told her son, I resolved to change.  

I want to walk-the-walk.  I want to be that person that behaves admirably, respectfully all the time; sometimes especially when I don't think anybody is watching.

Little eyes are watching you.  And copying you.  And if you don't watch out, they are going to grow up to be just like you.

What would you have them to be?

 

Gym Stereotypes

Before you jump to the conclusion that this may be about you, let me tell you that the character I'm describing today is not one person but a composite of several.   (But if it hits too close to home...well...maybe you ought to think about it for a minute.)

OK, your New Year's Resolution (NYR) was to finally get fit.  So you joined the gym.  But really, I probably shouldn't get used to seeing you around.  Statistics tell us that 80% those that join a gym based on their NYR will be gone in 4 months or less. 60% will be gone by mid-February.

So here you are.  And it appears you asked for workout gear for Christmas because everything looks brand new.  But man, you look pretty ridiculous in those Lululemon Yoga pants that may seem to come in men's sizes but were most assuredly not meant for guys.  Especially not for guys that need to lose 35 pounds.

And the high tech shirt that you cut the sleeves out for goodness knows whatever reason--you don't yet have the arms for that one although I did catch you flexing your biceps just now.  Was it for that cute girl on the elliptical machine?  Oh my goodness, I thought for a moment you were going to lean over and kiss it (your biceps, I mean).

But before you actually get started with anything, you've got to make sure that you have your tunes on.  The arm holder and the neon ear buds take a good 10 minutes to adjust just right and then you sit looking at what I can only imagine is a hundred different workout playlists--at least it seems that way because you flip through them for another 10 minutes.

So the first thing you do is to rack up a bunch of weight on an Olympic platform but never really get around to lifting it.  Just when you think people are not looking, you move over to another weight.

And there you are.  Standing there looking at a weight, staring at it really.  I can't help but think of that guy on late night TV that used to bend things without touching them before a live audience. Wasn't he The Amazing Carnac? He would just look at a fork or spoon and they would start to bend. You had that same look in your eyes so I half expected the bar to start bending merely from your stare.

Once you got around to actually lifting a weight, you screamed/grunted so that everybody within a quarter mile radius could hear you and notice that surely you just lifted a monumental amount of weight or even did a PR or something like that.

Oh and then after you did pick the bar up, you immediately dropped it, I guess because you saw that on TV. And then you picked it up again and dropped it again. Don't you know that lowering that weight to the floor will help give you better strength than dropping it ever could?

I bet you've got a set of dumbbells by your bed at home because...well..everybody knows it's "curls for girls."  In a random study, I didn't find a single female who listed big biceps as the physical trait they most admire in the male species--didn't even make the top 10.

Oh, and you really didn't do a very good job of fake-hiding your supplement stash.  I guess my first clue to that was when you took it out of your cavernous gym bag and put it on the gym's front desk. 

What's that?  You want some advice about how to get fit?  Really?  And you're willing to put in the time and the effort?  And listen when the professionals set up a program that seems completely different from everything you ever heard?

Wow.  There's hope for you yet?  But dude, forget the Lululemons.

Make Changes, Not Resolutions

Did you make any resolutions this week?   Did you resolve to eat better?  Exercise more? 

Quit smoking?  Slow down and smell the roses?  Sleep more?  Sleep less?

One friend resolved to be the best that he could be.   Maybe he plans on joining the Army. 

How about this?  How about resolving to establish new habits?  Don't just promise yourself to lose 10 pounds, change your eating habits for the better. 

Let's face it....New Year's resolutions are really just a decision to be a better you.  Whatever you see as your shortcomings, whatever you see about yourself that needs to be improved, that's what you resolve to change. 

I looked up "resolve" in Webster's dictionary (online edition, of course).  It said " to make a definite and serious decision to do something."

OK.  I'm good with that.  A "serious" decision, huh.  But shouldn't there be some sort of commitment-type thing in there too?

How about a commitment to establish new habits?  Good habits are what make a lot of people successful.  Books have been written about the subject.

For this discussion, I did what most people do:  I googled up "habits of successful people."  And I found a lot of what really seemed appropriate to this discussion.

Like "Don't Create Back-Up Plans."   You're going to get up in the morning and exercise. Period.  There really isn't an option. Hitting the snooze or re-setting the alarm simply doesn't happen.

And do it at least 5 days a week.  Remember that morning works better since it kicks up your metabolism and removes your excuses.

"Do The Work."  There is no easy way.   Eating right takes effort.     Quitting smoking is hard--nicotine is highly addictive.  If exercise that makes you healthier were easy, everybody would already be doing it.

How about the point that successful people are "Goal Oriented."   Yeah, it does help to establish goals.  But aim high.  And when you reach your goals, set new, higher goals.

It just makes sense to follow that with "Be Results Oriented."  Maybe "be the best person I can be" is just too ambiguous.  How about no fried foods for a month.  And then another month.  And another.  Actions that you follow long enough become habit.

"Successful People Are Honest With Themselves."   I like that one too.  Like, having a diet soda with a triple cheeseburger, hold the lettuce.  Now just who do you think you are kidding?

I like the observation that successful people "Avoid The Crowds."   All those people walking on the treadmill while reading the newspaper, does it seem like it's working for them?

Forget the resolutions--make the decision to truly change the way you pursue health and happiness by making exercise and eating right habits.

Life is Good

It is the tendency of most columnists to reflect on the past as the year comes to a close.  I want to do that but in a little different way. 

I want to look at 10 years backward and then 10 years down the road.  It was an article in Smithsonian the magazine that prompted this approach.  In it, the author looked at the age at which you become the person that you are finally going to be.

I guess part of it is that I've never really wanted to stop growing and changing (and improving) so I eagerly await the person I am to become.  It's not that I don't want to get old, it's just that I like the process.  I guess that's why I went back at 55 to get still another college degree, a doctorate in physical therapy.

Anyway, 10 years ago I was 50.  I was CEO of Appalachian Therapy Center and enjoyed going to work. 

Maryville High School's football team had just lost in the semi-finals to Morristown West in a messy, wet game that had been postponed to a Saturday night.  I remember this huge defensive end at Mo West that seemed destined for greatness and a Rebels team that simply ran out of time.

My son was not yet married to my favorite daughter-in-law and had just finished his football at Clemson University with a career ending injury while playing in a game at Florida State.  It was a great ride. 

Our daughter was (is) married to a wonderful young man but those grandbabies had not yet started coming around.  Let me say that being the parent of adult children was (is) absolutely wonderful. 

In 2003, I had been married for 26 years to the same wonderful lady.  I was riding my road bike a lot and had made the decision to ride year-round.   I still had a mountain bike and some great excursions with some buddies on that bike were coming in the next few years. 

Life was good.

10 years from now, I'll be 70.  

My partners and I sold Appalachian Therapy Center to Blount Memorial Hospital and the merged clinics became Total Rehab.   Then they give me the job doing what I had been doing for years:  running several outpatient clinics, seeing patients, covering high school sports, and writing this column.  I always said I would retire when it quit being fun.  It still is so there's a chance  I'll probably still be doing it all then.

MHS will have appeared in its 20th straight state championship game and they will name the 6A championship trophy after George Quarles, since he will have coached in every single 6A state championship game ever played.

We will have had our 7th grandchild and I think that might be it.  The oldest will be a senior in high school.  I'm predicting that volleyball will be her sport, just like her mom.  I will have enjoyed watching every game the grandchildren play and will never have yelled at a coach or referee.

I will be painting more but still giving them away.  I'll still be known around town as the guy that writes the column in the newspaper. 

I'll still be on the road bike but my mountain bike days will be limited to gentle days on velvety smooth singletrack.   Oh, and there might have been a brief hiatus in my biking while I got that bum right knee replaced.

I will have been married 46 years to that same wonderful lady.

And life will still be good.