That is all. ™: TAKE A KNEE

I was 14 years old the first time I thought I was going to die. I remember it like yesterday. People usually remember things like that. It was during my brightest summer of high school football. I had never played football before then because I was always too big and over the weight limits for the younger leagues. High school football had no weight limits. I would finally get my chance. After three days of practice, I developed an excruciating pain in both of my shins. I kept playing, and as the pain got worse I began hobbling around the field. I was a lineman. Linemen always look like they are hobbling. No one seemed to notice except for the line coach, Mr. Korrow.

“Young!” he screamed, in an accent that fell somewhere between Boston and Atlanta. “What is your problem?” he asked me.

“I think I broke my legs Mr. Korrow.”

He trotted over to me and put his face up to the bars of my facemask. Between Mr. Korrow and the excruciating pain in my shins was a space of about one inch. And it was in that space that I was certain that I would die. He looked at me through the bars on my facemask and he could see that I was in agony. He did not say a word. He stepped back and looked around the field and then at his watch.

“Bring it in. Take a knee,” he said to his linemen. He turned and said, “One of the most important things that we must learn in this game and in life is the difference between pain and injury. When you are injured and you feel pain, your brain is telling you to stop before you hurt yourself more. When you are not injured and you feel pain, your brain is telling you that you are not strong enough to do what you are trying to do. At that point you have two choices. You can stop and remain weak. Or you can rest and then continue on, through the pain, and become strong. Learn the difference.”

After practice, I was called to the training room. I had shin splints and two choices. Pack them in ice and hobble on or stop. I was a lineman. I hobbled on.

I was 42 years old the last time I thought I would die. I remember it like yesterday. People usually remember things like that. It was during the darkest winter of my life. I had never been in such a dark place, full of torment and despair. I was always wise enough to keep my distance from such places. I had gotten too close to the edge this time. With one missed step I had fallen into a pit of misery and pain. When I finally reached the bottom, I found my one chance to get out. So I started walking. I had to walk 30 miles to reach my destination.

It was a January night and it was very cold. It was raining and the rain was freezing on me. I was in a great deal of pain. I kept walking, and as the pain got worse I began hobbling. I knew that I was beginning to freeze to death. I kept walking. Twenty five miles later, I was in too much pain to walk any further. I looked around for a place to lie down and die. I said the first prayer in my life that had ever come completely from my heart. “God, I got nothing left. What is your plan for me? My plan is to lie down in the ditch next to me and die. If you have a different plan, let me know.”

I listened. I heard nothing. Not a sound. I looked at that ditch for a long, long time. Then, out of nowhere, I began remembering things that people had said to me in my life. I remembered something a football coach had said to me when I was 14 years old. “…or you can rest and then continue on, through the pain, and become strong.” And I hobbled for five more miles.

My life changed that night. It changed for a couple of reasons. One reason was that I played sports in high school and college. The techniques that I was taught made me a great player. The lessons my coaches instilled in me has made me a great person. I use those lessons every single day of my life, in every aspect of my life and I pass them on. If you don’t believe that sports are important, know this. One lesson, from one coach, over thirty years ago, saved my life one night.

We forget these days “that victory is a single event and that success is a continuous motion.” A coach taught me that. We don’t realize that “to be great you just have to get a little bit better every day.” A coach taught me that too. So I keep hobbling, and I try to get better every day, through defeats and victories both, to find success. Because I was a lineman. And while linemen always look like they are hobbling, as long as they are hobbling, they are doing just fine.

That is all.

Afterword

The coach that taught me “that victory is a single event and that success is a continuous motion.” was Russell Gray. He began coaching in 1960. He stopped coaching in 1996 after 36 years. He celebrated his 80th birthday in 2013. Over 500 of his former players attended the event. They came from all over the country to be there. In 2014, at 81 years old, Coach Gray was approached to coach a high school in need of a coach. He is considering that offer.

The coach that taught me "Why settle for being good, when, with just a little more effort, you can be great!" Is Joe Brune. Joe Brune coached High school football, at the same school for 35 years before he stepped down. He did not step down for long. He returned, and, at 76 years old, is coaching the junior varsity football team...at the same high school.

Coach Bill Korrow has coached at the same high school since 1970. In 1993, Mr. Korrow's 12 year old son, Billy, died. I know Mr. Korrow was hurt badly. "You can stop and remain weak. Or you can rest and then continue on, through the pain, and become strong." So he rested for a while, and then he founded the Billy Korrow Memorial 5k Run, in his son's memory. Mr. Korrow is still coaching to this day. 44 years. He has coached thousands of kids with the same words he had for me.