Blogging since May 2009

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

It's a Big Deal

When I was younger, I was laser focused on becoming a head basketball coach in Indiana. 

I did it.

I achieved what I'd always wanted in my young adult hood, and I did that job for seven years. It was a good seven years in many ways, but there were enough bad things that I decided to hang it up.

Will I ever be a head coach again? Maybe...maybe not. 

Would I be interested? Sure. 

Am I looking? No. 

There are a couple of things that bother me: 1. I never won a sectional as a head coach, but that doesn't bother me as much as the second issue. 2. My daughter remembers a little me being in charge, but my son doesn't. He's heard the stories, but I am "just" the assistant to him.

With that said, I have been an assistant at Silver Creek HS going on the third season.

After sitting out a season, I wanted to coach again, I knew I had something to give, so I contacted the Head Coach, Brandon Hoffman and he allowed me to join his staff.

I cannot say enough how wonderful he has been allowing me to coach again and allowing my family to be involved with what we do here, especially my son.  

It's a big deal to be a head basketball coach in Indiana.

It's a big deal to be an assistant basketball coach in Indiana.

It's a bigger deal to be good role models and parents and Coach Hoffman is and allows me to be both.

Monday, November 9, 2015


Got Your Parent Goggles On? Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote an article on how parents often see their children as better than they really are at just about anything. It's not just athletics, it's any activity. In the coaching industry, this is sometimes called "parent goggles". We often do not see other children the same way as ours because we are blinded by our love for our own children.

However, there can be another pair of goggles we wear. This type of goggles allows you to see every single mistake (real or imagined) that your own child makes when you coach or watch from the stands.

This pair of goggles has made me lose my mind while coaching my own kids, they have helped me nitpick things they didn't know or didn't do. 

This pair of goggles has allowed to overlook the same thing in another child that I fly off the handle when my own child does the behavior.

This pair of goggles has embarrassed me and has forced me to apologize to my own children.

This pair of goggles catches me wanting to scream at a 5, 7, or 11 year old in a way that no adult should talk to someone so young.

This pair of goggles has made my children cry over a game, or worse yet, at practice when they are supposed to fail as they attempt to get better.

This pair of goggles allows you to get so angry at your own child that the anger crosses over to the coach or other children and what you believe they do wrong.

But really are they different pairs of goggles? I don't think so.

I believe the same reason we think our own children are better than they really are is the same reason we tend to over coach our own kids. We love them and we want them to be better.

Sure, some of us try to re-live our past or lack-thereof when it comes to our children's activities and some of us may believe the failure of our children somehow is reflected in us.

And I believe that some of us are overly critical of our kids because we believe college scholarships are given out like candy on Halloween night.

I believe these are possible reasons for our visual impairment.

I try to remember how my dad was as I grew up and competed. He lived far from Salem High School as a teen so he wasn't able to participate in many activities. Because of his lack of participation, as I participated I never had the parents at home that replayed the game or was highly critical. I had the parents that would try to console me with a pack of gum, or tell me how well I played after a loss. I didn't have the parents who were angry with me after a game, I had the parents that were there to love me even when I was hard to deal with which was often.

That's the parent I want to be. College scholarships will be the after effect, not the end goal. I want my kids to work hard, do the little things, play hard and listen to their coaches. I want them to compete and enjoy victory and learn how to handle adversity in defeat and I want to be there to hug them and have a pack of gum waiting if needed. 

Those are life lessons that they can take from their experiences that will help as they enter the real world.

But I haven't been the best athletic parent in the past and I probably won't again in the near future,

I guess I will just plod ahead in the constant struggle of a parent who can be too hard and one that can be too easy when it comes to sports with Madison and Brandon.

Hopefully, I don't screw them up too badly.

Friday, November 6, 2015

My favorite Friday Females

Take Off the Mask

I write about different things here. Some basketball or sports related and others just life related.

I have had positive feedback on both which wasn't my point in the first place starting this 6 years ago. It was a place to write and it made me feel better with much of the stress that I happened to face at that time.

But there are some who have made derogatory comments mostly subtle, but comments often said with a grin. I know where they come from. Some of these people are quiet people and would never share their thoughts or life publicly, so to them this is a dumb idea.

For others, it is that they haven't allowed themselves to admit or maybe even think about some of the things I write about.

Because to them, to admit or even to consider they may not have it all together all the time is somehow a sign of weakness.

I get it.

I understand how society works, maybe that's why we have so many people medicated, violent and unhappy. They have never been given the green light by mom or dad or a spouse to open their minds or better yet, to open their mouths.

To open your mouth and to show your fears or anxiety isn't a bad thing unless it becomes an every day all the time thing. Then it probably shows that you need more help than just typing in a blog.

Find someone that you can talk to. Find someone you don't have to wear your worldly mask to.

Find someone you can be real with.

Or don't.

It's up to you.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

She's a Keeper...Fo Sho

About a year before the tornado hit Henryville in 2012, I had a panic attack. I didn't know what was going on, but I had an out of body experience that scared me. I am sure it scared a couple of my students, too as I hurried to the office at school to the nurse's office. There I was checked out, my blood pressure was quite elevated, they called my wife and I headed off to the emergency room.

After being checked out, they found nothing was wrong physically and it was probably a panic attack.

That was scary.

Then a week after the tornado in which my wife and I were in the school when it was hit by an EF-4, my anxiety increased to the level of another panic attack. And I had quite a few the following weeks entering into mild depression.

Through counseling, I realized that I had panic attacks all the way back to 8th grade. They were scary, but it was nothing that scared me to the point of fear of death. When you have a panic attack in your 20's, you wave it off. When you have one in your 40's, you think heart attack.

I was medicated for awhile, but decided to wean myself off that medication.

But I live with good days, OK days, and bad days. My anxiety always exists and I talk too much about too many things to the point that I know I annoy some people. It's a way of releasing some anxiety. It's a way to cope.

But I still have a panic attack from time to time and they are always scary.

And my wife has been supportive, loving and I am sure scared by what I have gone through. Her love and caring heart have helped immensely when others may have left because it had gotten to be too much.

I try to keep it from my children, and somewhat from my wife when the bad days arrive. I've told her that I try not to vent on her because it's too much. I've told her that when I talk to her about my anxiety or panic that it's bad because there are many days I say nothing trying to shield her from it somewhat.

But she's been awesome through it all.

I do not deserve her.

I do not deserve her love.

I do not deserve her understanding.

But I have it and I will keep it and I will hold on tight for as long as I can.