No Regrets

The year that you've anticipated for years:   Senior season.  It seems like it would never get here.

Maybe it started years ago in youth leagues.  Maybe it was a different sport but it led you down a path to where you are today.  Football, volleyball, golf, soccer--those are the fall sports that are now in full swing.

Maybe you really didn't find this sport until you got to high school but you have spent many hours preparing for these games.  You've worked hard, put in the sweat and tears, and now it is time to put all that into a memorable senior season.

Right now, your dreams are vivid and robust and full of success.  My wish for you is that it is everything that you dreamed of.   You will remember these days for the rest of your life.

It's been a very long time but I remember those feelings and dreams.  Maybe it is because I get to be around a new set of high school seniors every single year so I'm reminded annually of what it is like.  What it feels like.  What it smells like.  The confidence of having prepared well yet the insecurity of was it enough.

If you have done all you can do and lay it all on the line come game time, you should have no regrets.  For most, it represents the end of your athletic career.  I would hope that you take the active lifestyle that you learned from sports and carry it on perpetually.

For others, maybe it is the platform for other things.  If it gets college paid for, great.  That is a wonderful thing.  For the infinitely small number that will become professional at their sport, that's OK too.

But right now, before the games actually begin, it seems like you have all the time in the world.  You do, but you don't.  So savor every moment.

Enjoy the practices.  Enjoy the pre-game meals.  Enjoy your coaches.  Savor the bus rides and the meetings and the time spent with teammates. 

Because I can tell you, before you know it, it will be over.   And then all you have are the memories. 

So build good memories.  Don't be afraid of taking center stage.  Never miss an opportunity to appreciate those around you, especially your family who is probably there every time you take the court or field. 

Don't get caught up in needless drama.  Discard those people from your life who interfere with your focus, with your goals, with your team.

Don't waste a minute worrying about "things."  If you've done the work, arrive ready to play, and give it 100%, you'll have nothing to worry about.

Finish what you start.  If things aren't going well for you, if the victories aren't piling up, find what it is that you can do better and dedicate yourself to those things.

Stay coachable.  I don't know of a single coach around here who doesn't have your best interest in mind all of the time.  All that they really want is for you to be the best that you can be.  They are never never never trying to get in the way of your athletic "career."

In the end, the effort, the preparation, the dedication, and the focus are what matters most.  All that other stuff will take care of itself.

And parents, give your child the room to make the best of this season.  Support them, love them, and for goodness sake, be there for every game.   It will most assuredly be over in the blink of an eye.

Heat Control

I saw 94 on the thermometer yesterday.  I'm afraid that is an indicator of things to come in the next few weeks.

And we've got teams practicing all over the area.  Football is a bit more difficult with regards to dealing with the heat because of the pads and the helmet that you have to wear.

By the way, those face shields that too many football players like to add to their helmet don't help at all with dealing with the heat.  They actually trap heat inside your helmet.  In my book, they're pretty worthless.

Kids wear them to look like the pro's.  They don't realize that the a player in the pro's plays fewer snaps than most high school players.  They NEVER go both ways (something that a lot of high school players do).   Starters never play special teams.

All that means that they get more rest time.  More time to cool off.  And in hot weather, pro teams have all kinds of cooling devices for their players, including individual air conditioner-type devices that they can hook up to on the bench.

It seems like most of the players that I see wearing these shields are receivers, which makes no sense.  The one legitimate reason for wearing the shield is to protect your eyes from gouging but the only place in football that happens is in the lineman scrum in the middle of the field.

Dealing with the heat is hard enough.   The two keys to successfully dealing with the heat are hydration and being smart.

Back in the day (you've heard that one before), we got salt pills before practice and one small cup of water during.    We had fewer problems dealing with the heat but we didn't have air conditioners everywhere.  My house wasn't air-conditioned and only my parents' vehicle had a rarely used AC (it burned up too much gas).

We worked outside all summer so were much more acclimatized to the heat. 

All of our high schools have student athletic trainers whose #1 job is to make sure that our players are hydrated.  There are no limits on how much they can drink.  Our coaches adjust practice to accommodate warmer weather and we are constantly monitoring the heat index.  TSSAA has clear rules on what is an acceptable heat index.

One piece of advice that I've given for years that has been almost universally ignored is that if you have an athlete who is going to be fighting the heat, turn off the air conditioner.  Not many families are willing to make that sacrifice.

This year, I have already dealt with athletes with terrible sunburn that I'm pretty sure wasn't a part of their heat acclimatization process, athletes that have avoided the heat of the day for their workouts all summer, and players that limit their fluid intake because they didn't want to become "waterlogged."

Reminds me of that old movie Dumb and Dumber.

Anyway...yes, it's hot but if you hydrate properly (both water and sports drinks) and are smart, you should be fine. 

If not, well then we've got that watering trough full of ice water (full immersion) waiting for you which is, by the way, the absolute best way to deal with it when the heat gets to be too much.

Your Average Joe

Write this one down:  The backbone of success is a solid work ethic.  In life, business, sports--you name it.

What is a "solid work ethic?"  A willingness to do the work.  All the time.  Someone with a solid work ethic is willing to keep going even when it is hard or it hurts and especially when they are tired. 

You sometimes can succeed on talent alone.  Some people are that good. 

I rehabbed a baseball pitcher several years ago that had that kind of talent.  He was recovering from surgery to his shoulder and had made it as high as AAA baseball. 

He had a golden arm and it had carried him to the brink of making The Big Show, Major League Baseball. 

He had never really had to work hard and most definitely did not know his way around the weight room. 

He was all arm.  The rest of his body was a mess.  Maybe the worst core strength I have seen on a professional athlete and that was probably a huge factor in his shoulder injury.

When that arm failed him, his entire professional career was in jeopardy.  It may be unnecessary to say but during the summer that he spent with me, he definitely learned his way around the weight room. 

Randall Cobb had that kind of talent.  I know of several other local football stars that might have had as much talent as Randall (maybe) but who didn't have his work ethic. 

After he finished a stellar career at Alcoa High School, Randall turned that work ethic and talent into a successful career at the University of Kentucky.  Then, when given the opportunity, when some might have doubted if he could make it or not, he turned it into a successful career with the NFL's Green Bay Packers.

Talent? For sure.  Solid work ethic?  Without a doubt. 

Brandon Waters remains one of the hardest working athletes that I have known.  His work ethic when he was a high school football player remains legendary.  He had talent but nobody had his work ethic. 

It carried him from state championships at Maryville High School to a solid career at Tennessee Tech.  I can think of no one better to train young athletes than Brandon and that's just what he's doing as an Assistant Football Coach and Head Strength Coach at his alma mater.

At 6'6" and 255 chiseled pounds, Dylan Jackson is the whole package. I would offer him a football scholarship just looking at him.  Throw in speed, quickness, and athleticism and you can see why schools like UT and Alabama want him on their football team. 

At this point, it would be easy for him just to coast through this year.    But that's not for Dylan.  He's working hard every day.  Coach Quarles told me that just last week, he arrived at school early only to find Dylan already there, already hard at work. I predict his work ethic will carry him far.

But you don't have to be that big or that fast to be successful.  There are a lot more kids out there that are average size and merely decent athletes that will have really great sports careers.  I would suggest that for them, it is also all about the work ethic. 

And like I said, that work ethic can serve you well not just in sports but in life and relationships and business.  Trust me...a solid work ethic can carry the average Joe a long way.  

Boys Growing Up

This column has been years in the making.  Maybe decades.  It might not have a lot to do with sports but for me it is a natural extension of a discussion about what we do growing up and how it influences the athletes and adults we eventually become. 

Bill, Ronnie, Teddy, Jerry, Tony,  Gary, Ricky.  We grew up together, at least until college age, when most of us drifted apart--some way apart.   It seems like we were always together doing something.  We either walked or took bikes everywhere we went.

Every summer, from an age that would seem insane in today's world, we would get up in the morning and meet somewhere on our bikes. Lunch would be at whoever's house we found ourselves at when we got hungry.  Nobody carried money so buying lunch was never even an option.

Usually it was PB&J and lemonade.   Granny Miller would offer us souse meat sandwiches but that may have been to get rid of us.  Since I lived out in the country, my house was rarely on the list.  The only rule was be home by supper.

Although it was a game way out of our socio-economic status, we played tennis all the time.  We had a deal with the owners of the only two tennis courts in town (there were no public courts) that we would keep the courts clean and in return got to play whenever we wanted to unless the owners wanted the courts. 

We played the only organized sport available to us (football), and spent weekends and summers playing everything you can imagine, usually on our own.

We knew where you could find a flat yard to play (the Andersons, the Harrisons).  We knew where there was a decent basketball goal (the Smiths, the Junior High).  We would also sometimes sneak into the old high school to play basketball.  We would swim in the Tennessee River or one of the local creeks although without permission (definitely without our parents' knowledge) because there was no public pool.

Gary had a football, Bill a basketball, but all of us had a baseball glove and a baseball.  I had a bat (only wood back then).  I remember crying when an older boy broke it. There was no Little League but there was a program called Summer Recreation and pick-up baseball games were part of the summer mornings there.

We made do with whatever we had.  Street football on Ferry Street.  Red Rover in anybody's yard.  Fishing with a cane pole and worms  we dug up in the garden. 

We used to have contests at anything and everything.    Who could hit the stop sign throwing a rock the most times out of 10? (Usually Gary.)  Who won the three-legged running race? (Usually Ronnie and Tony.)

Things didn't work out great for all of us.  Gary, who would likely be a famous musician today, was injured in a motorcycle wreck and never recovered.

Bill discovered some bad habits in high school and stayed in trouble most of his adult life, finally dying a couple of years ago in circumstances that might still be unclear.   Jerry, the Italian kid of the group, died in his 30's of a heart attack.

All the others are still alive and have lived abundant, responsible lives.  Different in many ways yet forever tied together by how and where we grew up. 

All of us were what we would call "athletic" today.  Once apart, our paths diverged, with there being serious golfers and bikers and tennis players and water skiers and hikers and snow skiers among us.  I believe that has everything to do with the diversity that we followed each and every summer. 

Quoting Dickens:  "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  But isn't that what growing up is all about anyway?

Tips for a Healthier Lifestyle

I accumulate ideas.  Write them  down on slips of paper.  My bulletin board runneth over onto the adjacent walls. 

For one reason or many, these things provide a framework for how I try and live my life.  You already knew that this was going to be about what it takes to be healthy.  So here you go--Joe's tips for a better lifestyle:

Exercise daily.  You probably knew that one was coming.  You don't have to run a daily marathon but do something every day.  If it is just walking in the neighborhood, well that's better than doing nothing. 

There isn't a day off.  I've said it before, many times--find something you enjoy doing.  If it takes competition to motivate you, so be it.  Build it in.

Use reusable grocery bags.  Yeah, I know...it's hard to remember to take them when you go to the grocery store.  An estimated 8 billion pounds of grocery bags goes into our landfills every year.  8 billion pounds!   That's unreal.  If tied together, enough to circle the globe 300 times.  Each and every year.

Take the stairs.  Do you really need to take the elevator to go up one level?  I've even embarrassed people by writing about them here, using vague references so that others wouldn't be able to identify them.  But you know who you are.

Recycle.  It's easy.  Every person in America generates almost 5 pounds of waste a day.  Over 75% of that could be recycled.  We've got curb-side recycling, recycling centers, and recycling services that will come to your home and pick up all your recyclables for a really reasonable fee.   It's really easy.   And smart.

Don't always look for the closest parking space.  If you are physically able to walk across a parking lot, don't drive around waiting for the closest parking spot.  Use it as an excuse to get a few extra steps in.  And if you deserve that handicapped sticker, by all means you have a right to it.  But if you don't and use it anyway...well, there is a special place for you.

Turn off your engine in a drive-thru.  Whether it be the bank or the fast food joint, turn it off!  American vehicles burn up over 1.5 billion gallons of gasoline each year just sitting in the drive-thru lane and letting their engine run.

Yes, I've heard the statistics about restarting the engine but if you are going to be there more than 30 seconds, it pays to kill your engine.  And remember that the average fast food drive-thru time is 135 seconds.  For goodness sake, you don't need fast food much anyway.

Brown bag lunch.  It's healthier, it's cheaper, and it gives you time to run errands and still get home on time (or early) in the evening.

Get a mammogram.   It makes sense. 

Over 50?  Get a colonoscopy.  If you have a family history of colon cancer, start at 40.  Colon cancer is almost 100% preventable with colonoscopies.

Over 50?  See a dermatologist.  A lot of cancers that end up elsewhere, start as skin cancer.  So always use sunscreen when you're out in the sun so that the dermatologist doesn't have to work so hard.

Stop smoking.  You've heard it from me time and time again.  Smoking is about the dumbest habit you could develop.  Think of it this way:  If you smoke, your kids will likely smoke.  Is that what you really want?

Cut back on fried food.  Not eliminate (this is the South, after all), just cut back.  It will make a difference in the incidence of heart disease.

Preaching to the Choir

After two in a row about grandkids, it was obvious to me (and others) that it was time to move on to a new topic.  I'm often asked how I come up with ideas for this space.  After 28+ years, you would think I would have run out of ideas.

There are several topics I've visited more than a few times.  How to deal with the heat.  What it takes to be a good parent of an athlete.  Ankle sprains.  Concussions. Weight control, being healthy, nutrition, and...the bike.

The day the late great Jim Dykes told me he enjoyed my column was also the day that he suggested I quit writing about that (expletive deleted) bicycle.   But it's what I do and what I know--that and a little about sports injuries--so it has become a recurring theme.

Most of the time, it is an attempt to help others understand why it is that we do what we do.  I guarantee you that every single time I am on the bike, I encounter someone that doesn't think I should be on public streets and roads. 

It isn't always the one-finger salute nor is it getting buzzed by a driver trying to scare me.  And I've never been hit by a thrown object as most of my biking peers have.   More often it is just a toot on the horn and the impatience of cutting over quickly in front of me after they pass by.

This one fellow in Alcoa has quit responding to my articles on bicycling.  For years, he would send me a note every time I wrote about bicycling (you will notice that my personal e-mail account is found at the end of the column), telling me how bikers did not belong on public roads until we paid taxes to do so. 

I guess he was talking about a license plate, which, by the way, costs $56.60 in Tennessee for a car or truck and $49.50 for a motorcycle.  Or maybe he was talking about the tax on gas but the way I figure it, the time I spend on my bike reduces our dependence on foreign oil.  I'm betting that I spend more on sales taxes than he does but I guess that doesn't matter.

Anyway, this column isn't for him or the drivers that don't want us on the road.  This one is for the bikers.

Sometimes, we are our own worst enemy.   When we blow through a stop sign, the guy in the truck sees that and remembers.  When we crowd the yellow line on a narrow road, we risk losing the respect of the person in the mini-van.  When we ride three abreast and make it hard for someone to pass us, we don't make friends.

So bikers, listen up.   Ride safely.  Ride defensively.  Ride courteously. 

If there is a car behind you, ride single file.  You don't have to come to a complete stop when you get to a stop sign (that is compliant with state law), but you should allow the motorist first option what to do. 

Avoid the busiest roads, especially those that don't have any place where the motorized vehicles can pass you.  You'll almost never catch me on some of our main arteries like Montvale, Old Niles Ferry, or Morganton Road until well out in the county.  It's just prudent. 

If you find me on Broadway or Alcoa Highway, I've lost my mind.  I'm not saying that bikers don't have a right to be on those roads, just that it isn't smart.

Be aware of the position of the sun.  You are on a small vehicle and can be lost in the sun pretty easily.  Ride with extra caution near dusk or dawn.  Flashing lights are good and get you noticed. 

And if the state of Tennessee wants me to pay that $49.50 for a license plate for the right to ride these roads, so be it.  I'll be the first in line.

The Role of the Grandparent in Sports Today

This really happened. 

I was at a youth sporting event not too long ago. (I'll leave the sport out so as to not indict the sport--the sport wasn't the problem.)  I've written about that before.

I watched the parents and was both amused and disturbed by what I saw.  Let's just say that the sideline intensity far exceeded the intensity on the field.  There wasn't as much criticism of the game officials than I've seen often in the past, but these moms and dads were certainly animated.

When a score was made, the coach for the team (a parent) that was scored upon was in visible agony.  "How could you..." seemed to be his favored coaching method.

Sitting a little behind those parents were the much calmer grandparents.   Maybe they were calmer because they (we) have been there and done that.  I know I have. 

The grandparents offered gentle words of encouragement and support but were definitely less intense and never yelled.  I'd like to suggest that this should be the role of the grandparent.

John William Black and Worth Roscoe Mason.  Those were my grandfathers.  I never knew either of them.  They were gone long before I was born.  The only grandparent I ever knew was my maternal grandmother, who died when I was 7. 

I never had the opportunity to learn from them.  Never knew the patience that bypasses parents and goes straight to grandparents.  Never got to be bounced on their knee.

John William Black died when my dad was very young.  At one point, he owned a pool hall in Sweetwater.  My dad carried a token from those days his entire life.  That token even went to the South Pacific with him during World War II. 

Worth Roscoe Mason died too soon as well but my mom did get the chance to know him.    I don't have many stories about him but enough to know that he must have been quite a guy.

I want to stick around so that my grandchildren know who I am.  I want to be an example to them.  I want them to see that you can do the right thing every time and still enjoy life.   I want to be a living example that you can be a good guy and still be OK.

Just the other day, a fellow I know was marveling at the love that he had for his only granddaughter.  He remembers that surely he loved his own kids that much but that somehow it was different with this one.

We both speculated that maybe we were too busy "raising" our own kids that we didn't take the time to think about the love part.  Maybe we were too preoccupied with what they would become and ignored what they were at the time. 

Maybe.

I just know that my job includes being silly (often), always ready to dance (the hot dog dance comes to mind--if you don't know it, ask a grandparent), supportive, and loving unconditionally at every moment.