Archive for the ‘coaching’ category
September 18, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 18, 2018
I did not get a too-early call this morning from Timberview Middle School. No phone ringing at 5:30 with urgency! I get did four phone calls from another school, but I ignored them. It’s gotten to the point where I rarely substitute at any other school besides Timberview. I’m like Andy Griffith in the midst of middle school Mayberry. Everybody knows me there! I coach three sports there, with this being my 18th year of coaching boy’s basketball.
So today is a day off! Yesterday I corralled 7th Grade language arts students the whole day, keeping them focused on verbs, mis-spellings, and the green grass of literature. I’ll giddy up the same herd two days from now.
Today, however, I’m relaxing…kinda’! When I leave Starbucks this morning I’m going up to the school to take care of a couple of details and surprise a coaching teammate with a cup of Americano with a little bit of cream. She deserves it for having to teach 8th Grade math all day.
Since retiring from being a church pastor close to three years ago (Doesn’t seem possible!) my understanding of “a day off” has been altered. It used to be that Monday was the designated day off after the hyper-speed pace of Sunday. Now it’s whatever day I’m not substitute teaching.
Could be Monday, could be Thursday, but it’s almost never Friday!
And what do I do on whatever day it is that I’m off? I think about what’s going on at the school, wondering which students will make unwise decisions and which teachers will be ready to pull their hair out. I’ll wonder what new color of hair will appear in a classroom that day and what 8th Grade girls will look like their jeans were vacuum sealed around them. I’ve noticed- and maybe you have also- that my middle school experiences are filtering more and more into my writing. In the first month of the school year I wrote 7 blog posts related to middle school. Today I’ll write 1,000 to 2,000 words in the third fiction book I’m writing and the story will have been influenced by my recent middle school experiences. One of the two main characters is a 7th Grade boy! That’s what I do on my day off! I write about middle schoolers.
I’ll also eat a more substantial lunch today, maybe a luncheon date with Carol. I won’t need to “wolfe down” a Tupperware bowl containing cottage cheese and cucumber, or a PB&J sandwich while gulping a bottle of water. Today I won’t even have to use a plastic fork!
I’ll be able to talk in a normal voice, use the bathroom when I want to, wear a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, and sit in the swing on our back deck and read Vince Flynn. I’ll be able to enjoy a third cup of coffee on my writing stool- the last stool on the right looking out at Pike’s Peak! I can stop at the supermarket and check out the “day old food” discounted rack and play Words with Friends. I may even run by Penney’s and see if they have underwear on sale!
And in the midst of all those opportunities and “down time” I’ll be thinking about Timberview, like a kid wondering what might happen in the next episode of my favorite action TV series.
Crazy, I know, but it brings a smile to my face! And I’ll ask myself “Was I that dorky when I was in middle school?”
Absolutely!
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Andy Griffith, blogging, day off, dorky, down time, middle school, middle school boys, middle school girls, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, Starbucks, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, teachers, teaching, teaching middle school, Vince Flynn
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September 8, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 8, 2018
Squirrels were named after sixth graders! When you’re around sixth graders for very long you just automatically blurt it out. “You’re squirrelly!” And then someone saw a furry looking hyperactive, confused critter climbing the tree in their front yard and he said, “Wow! I’m not sure what that thing is but it’s as squirrelly as a sixth grader so I’m going to call it a squirrel!”
Okay! It probably didn’t happen that way, but it’s a good story, and if you’ve been around sixth graders for very long you understand how plausible the story sounds.
Yesterday I was teaching sixth grade physical education. It’s kind of like filling thirty balloons with air and letting them go all at the same time.
We were teaching the students a new game, which was not complicated to understand. It involved trying to get all of the people on one team to the other end of the field without having the flags they wore around their waists pulled by someone from the other team.
Simple, right?
The other teacher I was partnered with that day explained the game thoroughly and then said the words that she wished she could take back, the words that cause body tremors and sweating.
“Are there any questions?” Hands shot up in the air like 4th of July bottle rockets.
“What if…someone doesn’t mean to fall, but he does? Does that mean he’s frozen until he gets freed by one of his teammates?”
“Yes.”
A future lawyer. “What if…the person who falls has been tripped, pushed, or in a collision that results in his tumble? Would he be held liable for the consequences of the action, or would you take into consideration extenuating circumstances…AND, is there an appeal process in place for the defendant?”
My teaching colleague has a blank stare for a moment. “We will consider each action individually.” The student starts to ask a followup question, but my colleague ignores her and looks at the body attached to another raised hand.
“What if…I’m running down the field and my flag falls off just because? Can I just put it back on? You know…like the wind just blows it off of me, because that wouldn’t be fair!”
“If your flag falls off because of the wind or as the result of some other act of nature you can put it back on and resume the game.”
The future attorney is raising her hand and waving it wildly as she considers her case before the Court of Sixth Grade PE Appeals. The teacher contines to ignore her, and turns her attention to a squirrel sitting on the top row of the bleachers.
“What if…someone calls my name and when I look to see who said my name a different person from the other team runs by and pulls my flag off?”
“Then you are frozen until a teammate frees you.”
“Ahhh!” he responds with a look of agony.
Redheaded girl with a bored look wishing she was in math class. “Do we have to play?”
“Yes.”
Blonde boy who has a tendency to want to always say things that makes his other squirrelly classmates giggle. “What if…someone’s shorts rip right down the middle and their underwear is showing?” Giggles from the gathered.
“If that happens they will be out for the rest of the game.”
“That’s not fair!”
“By the time they go back inside, change shorts, and come back out again, our class period will be over.”
Future prosecutor’s hand going berserk.
“Is this question relevant?”
“Yes, absolutely!”
“Okay! Last question because we aren’t going to have that much time to actually play the game.”
“I’m not throwing any accusations or inferring that a certain person, who will remain anonymous, would do this, BUT…what if someone from the other team made some offensive remarks about another person in the course of game play? Would that be grounds for, so to speak, legal action?”
My colleague looks at her with a facial expression that communicates “No comment!’
“Okay! Mr. Wolfe’s class is red and my class is yellow! Let’s play!”
And the squirrels rush the field to play the game for the one reason we’ve planned it for. That they will run around like crazy for the next fifteen minutes!
Categories: children, coaching, Freedom, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: middle school, middle school physical education, middle schoolers, Physical Education Class, sixth grade, sixth grade students, sixth graders, squirrels
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September 5, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 5, 2018
Two weeks ago my cell phone rang around 8:00 in the evening. I was finishing up the rewrite on the sequel book to the first one…that I hadn’t planned on there being a sequel to!
I picked up my phone and saw that the call came from my oldest daughter, Kecia. So I answered, as I have a tendency to do, by speaking Spanish.
“Como esta usted?”
“Huh?” came the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line. It was my ten year old grandson calling on his mom’s phone. Jesse does not speak Spanish yet, at least the way I speak it!
“Is this Jesse?”
“Yes, Granddad!”
“Oh!” (pause) “What’s up, Jess?”
“Well, we just finished Red Hot: New Life in Fleming.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and we really liked it!”
“You did? That’s great!”
I had sent the book draft in an email attachment and each evening right before bedtime Kecia had read a chapter of the book to Jesse and my granddaughter, Reagan. They had read the last chapter that night.
If no publisher picks it up for publication I know at least three of the most important people in my life will have given it “five stars” in their evaluation. (Now they are reading the sequel at bedtime!)
Kecia told me that they had cried when a tragedy had occurred for one of the main families in the book. And she told me that they had enjoyed a certain chapter so much that they read it twice.
Both of the grandkids (Their 3 year old sister isn’t quite into the reading and listening stage yet, although she does get read to every night.) are avid and excellent readers, encouraged by their third grade teacher mom. Their reading level is far above the average for their peers. It’s a byproduct of the fact that they have ended their day with a reading time for as long as they can remember.
So now I wait to hear from the publisher who has the draft. I pitched it to the managing editor of a publisher back in May at the Colorado Christian Writer’s Conference. He gave me his card and told me to send it to him. Since then we’ve exchanged a few emails and he’s told me it won’t be until around the end of October before they’ll make a decision.
Another publishing house of the “vanity publishing” type wants me to pursue it with them, but a good-sized payment is attached to their contract…that is, I pay them and sometime down the road…in a future life maybe!…I’ll break even!
My two good friends, both with knowledge and experience in the print industry, continue to encourage me and tell me that it is an excellent book. They have edited both my original draft and then my rewrite…as well, as the sequel. They have been drawn into loving the characters and have come alongside me as plots have been shaped and considered. In certain times in the writing of the book(s) one of them has said something like “What if…?” or “Why did you take the scene in that direction?”
The publishing industry is tough competition these days. Companies are much more selective in what they are pursuing. In this time of 140 character tweets people don’t read like they used to. BUT people will still read a good story!
For now I have at least three people who’ve given me five stars. Actually, my two editing friends would join the three related to me, so I guess I’m at five people!
Now I’ve started writing Book 3. It seems somewhat strange to write a third book in a series where even the first novel hasn’t been published yet…but I want to see how the story ends!
Categories: children, Christianity, coaching, Community, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Novels, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: book draft, christian fiction, Colorado Christian Writer's Conference, editing, library, literary works, Novels, print industry, publishing, publishing a book, reading, reading fiction, Red Hot: New Life In Fleming, vanity publisher, writing, writing fiction
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September 1, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 1, 2018
I was asked to substitute teach one day this past week in the classroom that serves as the base for the students at our middle school who have special needs. As the day went on I realized that I was the student and they were my teachers.
They treated me special!
One young lady let me join her in the morning for a few minutes of lego-building before she headed to class. I built a Starbucks drive-thru, which she flashed a smile about, but then threw me a look that told me that I needed to get back on task and stop goofing around.
A boy drew me into being a customer at his pretend restaurant, but when I didn’t put both of my legs squarely under the table he gave them a slight shove to get them where they are suppose to be…before taking my order of a pretend double cheeseburger and onion rings. A couple of minutes later when I had gone to the pretend restroom and then back to the table he repositioned my legs once again under the table like they are suppose to be.
Another young man drew an amazing picture of a mountain nature scene. His classmate flashed a “dab” for me a few times and explained to me what each of the three rubber snakes draped around his neck were with accompanying vital information that might save my life if bitten.
Towards the end of the day the lego-building student “instructor” was working on math problems. She pulled another chair up close to her and smiled at me.
“Would you like me to sit down?” She smiled, nodded her head, and patted the seat. Since my lego-building skills were suspect in her eyes, maybe I also needed math help.
Let me interject here! The para-professionals who work with the students are awesome. They guide them towards success in its various forms, whether that be improving their organizational skills, completing assignments, or relating to the other 1,200 students in the middle school. Every day is punctuated with the extreme emotions of tears and laughter.
The students who take on the role of “peer partner” during each class period of the day are just as incredible and important. They walk with their students to class, help them conquer difficulties, and bond with them in lasting friendships.
Last year an 8th Grade special needs student was on the school basketball team. Coach Achor told him he would play in a game sometime during the season. His anxiety was evident as he faced the possibility of that, but then the day of the game arrived. All of the special needs staff- para-professionals, teachers, peer partners, and other special needs students- were there. When he went into the game they all cheered.
And then when he made a basket they all cheered…and cried!
Last week I went back to school for a day to be taught. By 2:45 I had learned a little bit about acceptance, grace, the love of life, and the humor hidden in the simplest moments of life.
The next day after that I was the guest teacher for 8th Grade science. The student who had drawn the incredible picture of nature was in one of my classes.
“Hi, Mr. Wolfe!”, he said immediately upon entering the class. “What are you going to do this weekend?”
“Well, (his name) I’m going to do some running, some reading, some relaxing, and some writing.” I should have added, “In fact, I’m going to be writing about you!”
Categories: children, coaching, Grace, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: acceptance, autism, autistic, challenged, challenges, children, dab, Lego building, middle school, para-professionals, peer partners, special needs, special needs students, Starbucks
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August 28, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 28, 2018
Today, Tuesday, is my day off this week. I substitute teach the other four days of the week. Last week I manned a classroom Wednesday through Friday. Most of my days so far have been spent being the sheep dog for seventh graders. You know, chasing behind them and barking loud enough that the ones threatening to become wayward from the flock correct their perilous destinations!
Seventh graders in August are like caterpillars who haven’t cocooned yet. They are still wobbling around trying to find their way. The incredible thing is that most of them will evolve by the following May into beautiful butterflies of various brightness. Resisting temptation, their teachers will abstain from squashing a select few!
Last week most of the seventh grade flock headed towards the green acres of educational grazing, but there were a few who seemed drawn to the brier patch. I’ll call them “the warts of seventh grade”, the oddities who stand out like a bald man wearing a petticoat and drain teachers of energy and patience.
There are the warts that LIKE to be noticed. When the attention of a class gets too focused on knowledge and away from them an outburst deadens the pursuit of discovery. One wart’s stainless steel water bottle redirected the attention of her class half a dozen times as she dropped it, tipped it over, and kicked it. Each drop had the same effect of someone raking their fingernails across one of those old chalkboards we used to have…back in the old days! the student squealed in glee at her ability of distract.
One boy, resembling a bad rash in the midst of academia’s complexion, must not only be ADHD, but a few more letters added onto that. Like a bug headed for a zapper, he doesn’t seem to be able to keep himself from being sent to the principal’s office.
And then there are the few who mistake their warts for being adorable freckles. Like a bad case of acne on the teenager’s face, their teachers will be applying steady applications of disciplinary Clearasil to help their classroom complexion. For an even more select few there is now Clearasil Ultra that applies even deeper forms of correction.
In August “the warts” stand out. By next spring the beauty marks will, thankfully, command more of the attention. It’s why teachers teach! They teach for what they believe will be the result towards the end of the nine month journey, the vividness of their students’ discoveries, and the hope that warts can even be transformed along the way.
Categories: children, coaching, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 7th Grade, butterfly, classroom, classroom distractions, cocoons, educational discovery, school classroom, Seventh Grade, seventh grade boys, seventh grade girls, seventh grade teachers, seventh graders, sheep dogs, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, teaching, teaching middle school, warts
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August 25, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 25, 2018
I was standing in front of the classroom of thirty-five 7th Grade students. It was the second class period of my day, having already traversed through the treacherous path of Period 1!
I partially sat down on the table in front of the classroom to begin taking attendance. I looked down at my long attendance sheet of names and noticed something else.
I was unzipped! Not just a little bit, or with partial coverage, but as wide open as a Montana range!
When the revelation of such a moment becomes known to a person several questions immediately follow: How long have I been this way? Who noticed? Who noticed, didn’t say anything to me, but is now saturating the school with the news? What do I do now?
The “what do I do now” question was easy to answer. I casually covered the front with the attendance sheet and tried to look like I was searching for someone as I made my way to the back of the classroom. Thankfully my classroom that day was located in one of the “portables” outside the school building. There are restrooms in the middle between the two classrooms. I headed for one of them and executed a quick zip!
I don’t know if anyone in that class had seen my underlying underwear, but I still turned a shade of sunburn red for a few moments.
It’s funny! I can recall three times in my lifetime when I was inconveniently unzipped. Well, anytime would be inconvenient, but three times it has occurred at the most inconvenient moments possible!
Friday was the third!
The first time it happened was a number of years ago when I was pastoring the First Baptist Church in Mason, Michigan. We hosted the annual meeting of the American Baptist Churches in our area. Representatives from about forty congregations gathered in our sanctuary. I walked to the front of the sanctuary to welcome all of the guests and to say the opening prayer. I stood on the front platform- with no pulpit to shield me, mind you- and gave words of greeting to those in the crowded sanctuary. When I finished I walked down the center aisle to the back.
And when I reached the foyer I noticed that I had, evidently, been flashing the congregation the whole time! In front of our Executive Minister, my Area Minister, others who had smiles on their faces, and a few stone-faced folk who had starched their shirt collars too much!
That event happened almost thirty years ago and I can still replay it in the nightmares of my slumber. Most of the time I’m now able to chuckle as I think about it.
The other time when, so to speak, I “opened up” to people happened in the Colorado Springs airport. I had gone to pick up my friend, Artie Powers. It was back in the days when someone picking up a passenger could still meet him at the gate. I walked down the terminal to where Artie’s plane would arrive. I noticed several women smiling at me as I strolled at a leisurely pace down the corridor.
“I must be looking pretty good today!” I thought to myself. I met Artie and as we walked back through the terminal together he said to me in his distinctive West Virginian accent, “All the cows are out to pasture!”
“Huh?”
“You’re unzipped!”
It was at that moment that I realized that the smiling women weren’t entranced by my good looks. They were humored by my cluelessness!
They say things come in threes. Well, I’m hoping that’s true! I’m considering the idea of simply wearing sweat pants with a draw string in front and no zipper…but then I’d probably have a rip in the back that would just end up revealing my Hanes from the rear!
Categories: children, coaching, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 7th Grade, being embarrassed, clueless, embarrassing moments, embarrassment, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, the barn door is open, unzipped, zippers
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August 19, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 19, 2018
Our oldest daughter, Kecia, and her husband, Kevin, ran in “The Beast” this weekend in Breckenridge, Colorado. The Beast is about a half-marathon, but includes a multitude of obstacles and challenges throughout, like climbing walls, jumping through mud, and walking on hot coals! Okay, just kidding on the hot coals part!
Meanwhile Grammy and Granddad did another form of The Beast at home. We kept the three grandkids- ages 3, 7, and 10! Like our daughter and son-in-law we also had a multitude of challenges and obstacles. Our challenges included keeping the house from looking like a war zone, teeth brushing time, meltdown moments, and striving for most of the food on their plates to actually be eaten.
It’s Sunday morning and I’m “on break” at Starbucks at 7 AM before heading back to the fray and facing the next obstacle of getting everyone in the car to drive 45 minutes to Simla, Colorado for church. The ride home from there will be comparable to coming down the home stretch of our “marathon grandparenting” race! I’m doubting that there will be a water station and available Powerade at the finish line! That’s okay, we just need a bed!
Carol and I love our “grands”, even hoping for more! We also recognize that we’ve both been like “grandparenting sprinters”, not marathoners. We’re used to two hour stints, not 48 hour ultra events. Like an actual marathon it has been a weekend of exhilaration and exhaustion.
Like the three year old singing with revised lyrics as she played with Play-Doh.
“This old man, he had three; he had three on my knick-knack…and a knick-knack patio, give a dog a home, this old man comes running home.”
Or our ten year old grandson watching an international fencing competition on TV and figuring out the scoring system they use.
And our seven year old helping her little sister, and playing “McDonald’s drive-thru lane” with her.
On the exhaustion side there was bedtime! But bedtime at the grandparent’s house is seen as being more like a sleepover, full of giggling and getting their second wind. There’s a lot of movement and talking..and movement…and “I want a drink of water”…and movement…and threat of being duct taped to the bed…and crying…and finally…finally sleep! During the night, however, like chess pieces, there’s a rearranging of where each of the slumberers ends up by Saturday morning.
Last night Carol looked at me and said “I don’t remember being this tired when we were raising our three kids.”
“We’re out of shape, dear! A bit flabby in the grandparent mid-section!”
On the positive, we took them to Noodles for Saturday night dinner and each one of them ate EVERYTHING on their plates…well, except for what the three year old dropped on the floor beside her chair! I ordered an extra plate of pot stickers because they were still hungry!
When I was growing up my parents would take my brother, my sister, and me to our Mamas and Papaw Helton’s for a week in the summertime. They had a farm in the eastern part of Kentucky. If nothing else this weekend has given me a new appreciation for their stamina, patience, and strength.
And they had 12 grandkids! I feel a bit wimpy and weak being exhausted by three!
I’ll try to be in better shape for the next “Beast”. Kecia and Kevin are doing another race for insane people in a month. They’ll be gone a little longer next time, so for us it will be like doing the grandparenting “Ultra Beast”!
One thing’s for certain for that next time! We’ll be at Noodles again!
Categories: children, coaching, Grandchildren, Humor, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: bedtime, grandchild, grandchildren, granddad, granddaughters, grandfather, grandkids, grandma, grandparents, marathons, meltdowns, Noodles, Play-Doh, sleepovers, Starbucks, The Beast
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August 18, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 18, 2018
School began again this past Wednesday in our area! At Timberview Middle School four hundred or so sixth graders waited outside the doors that first day. Seventh and eighth graders came back on Thursday.
The school staff waited inside the doors and cheered them on as they entered the building for their first middle school experience.
And I was one of the cheering high five-ing staff members!
I’m a substitute teacher, but had been asked to teach the first three days of school by a teacher back in April because of a family wedding she would be attending out-of-state.
Other staff members asked the question: “Mr. Wolfe, subbing already?” Yes, in fact, out of 13 August school days I’m scheduled to sub 10 of them for 7 different teachers.
I often have people ask me why I substitute teach? Am I a masochist? Is it the appropriate level for how mature I act? Will no one else hire me? Am I reliving my junior high days?
Truthfully, I substitute teach because I enjoy it! I’m serious! One of the best months of my life was when I was asked to do a long-term 7th Grade Social Studies teaching position. I had to work like crazy that month preparing for each day of instruction and interaction, but I was a bit sad when the new teacher was hired. She’s a great teacher (who I have subbed for several times since!), but I missed the kids who I was privileged enough to teach, challenge, and converse with each day.
That experience has probably influenced my feelings on substitute teaching more than anything else. It imparted confidence in me and brought me to the point where each school day was seen as being an opportunity to influence and educate, as opposed to enduring and dreading.
I don’t substitute teach because we need the income. We’re okay regardless of whether I decide to take the month off or appear in a classroom every school day of that month. The pay, in my mind, is simply a side benefit for doing something I enjoy doing.
I substitute teach because of the relationships with staff, parents, and students. A few of my best friends are now teachers, who are on staff at Timberview. One of them has been on two mission trips with me. I officiated at the funeral service for another teacher friend who succumbed to cancer two years ago.
I substitute teach at middle school because it’s an impressionable time for the children who enter there and three years later exit as teenagers. It’s an uncertain and confusing part of their life journeys. I remember my junior high days. They were not that pleasant. I was the smallest kid in my whole class. Other boys in my eighth grade class were beginning to sport facial hair and armpit hair that was dense and long enough to take a weed whacker to. I didn’t even have peach fuzz! I was still like a facial hair desert, void of signs of adolescence!
As a sub I have the opportunity to give a word of encouragement, bring a class to laughter, and grace students with nicknames. I have the opportunity to make a school day more than just books and study sheets. I’m able to make it an experience.
It’s a bit flattering to hear good things being said about me. I’m scheduled to teach 8th Grade social studies for two weeks at the end of October and beginning of November. The teacher came up to me on Thursday and told me she had shared with her classes that I’d be subbing for her during that time.
“They were so excited!”
Wow! Putting the pressure on me! But, you know something? I’m also excited! I am a blessed man!
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: adolescence, adolescent, influencers, influencing, influencing kids, middle school, middle school boys, middle school girls, middle school students, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, teaching, teaching middle school, teenagers, thirteen year olds
Comments: 1 Comment
August 14, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 14, 2018
It was an optional practice day so the other coaches and I were a bit surprised that about 25 middle school students showed up for it. “I thought there would be four or five!” exclaimed Coach Barry.
But here they were! About 25 sixth, seventh, and eighth graders wondering what the next hour and a half would hold for them, their lungs, and their legs!
“I’m Coach Wolfe, and it’s great to see all of you here this afternoon!”
Some smiled back at me. Others looked down at the ground like they feared a sudden sinkhole would open up and swallow them down into the depths. One girl with shaking knees was hoping for a sinkhole!
A hand shot up.
“Coach Wolfe, what will we be doing in our cross-country practices?”
“Well, let’s see! We’ll watch some Justin Bieber Youtube videos, have Fudgesicle eating contests, and finish each day with some tug-of-war competitions.”
He looked at me in disbelief.
“No, that’s a different sport I’m thinking of! In cross-country we’ll…RUN! We’ll run long, we’ll run fast, we’ll run easy and hard, up hills and down hills, on paths through the woods and sidewalks around the neighborhoods. We’ll run down to 7-11 and get Slurpies and to Boriello Brothers and get pizza…okay, strike the pizza idea! Basically, we’ll run in a variety of ways!
“Coach Wolfe!” This time the girl hoping for a sinkhole had her hand up.
“Yes.”
“How far will we run?”
“Some days further than others. Roughly three miles a day.” Her eyes opened as wide as the sinkholes she hoped for.
“Just three miles?” asked a new sixth grader. “I’ve been on a running team that competes in the nationals each year and we usually do six to seven miles a day.”
“Go for it! When we get done with our practice you can do a Forrest Gump and just keep running!”
A young man with blonde hair and a heavy dose of anxiety raised his hand halfway and looked at me.
“Yes, sir!”
“I just moved here from Texas. Do you think I’ll have a hard time with the altitude change?”
“Yes.”
“Oh!” he replied with a facial expression that resembled when the time his mom told him Santa Claus doesn’t ride in a sleigh.
“It will take you a while, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Thank you,” he said as he bit his lower lip.
“Each of you is at a different point than everybody else. Some of you have been running since you were about the size of a ladybug and others are brand new. Your coaches will seek to help each of you get better as a runner and also understand how to run. We’ll expect you to work hard, but we also want you to have fun!”
At the mention of having fun a few eyebrows went up, like I was saying that it was fun to go to the doctor and get a flu shot, or it was fun to wear underwear inside-out and backwards!
But it will be fun! In fact, today…Day 2 and another optional practice before the first official practice on Wednesday…I’m getting popsicles for the end of practice. For a popsicle I bet the one young lady would even jump over a sinkhole!
And I’ll high five each of them and joke with them and then send them all home thinking, “This is going to be awesome!”
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: athletics, coaching middle school, Cross-Country, Forrest Gump, middle school, middle school athletics, middle school boys, middle school cross-country, middle school girls, middle school sports, middle school students, middle school track, middle schoolers, popsicles, Running, running long distance
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August 8, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 8, 2018
It’s a situation that basketball game assignors started dealing with a few years ago: too many games and not enough referees to cover them safely and effectively. So a trend started! Games on heavy volume days began to be rescheduled…or, in a few cases, officials had to cover three games in one day…often at two different locations.
It was a warning sign that most wanted to pretend wasn’t happening; that the number of people officiating basketball games was gradually decreasing while the number of games being played gradually had been increasing. A few people saw the impending crisis, but most went on like there wasn’t any problem. After all, how do you fix the part of the basketball game that is best seen but not heard. That is, officials long to run up and down a court where the participants with numbered uniforms play the game fairly and under control, to the point where a whistle rarely needs to be blown.
I still remember a girl’s varsity game I officiated several years ago at St. Mary’s High School in Colorado Springs. St. Mary’s was hosting Trinidad. Two excellent coaches, George Dasko and Mike Burkett, led their teams. I can even remember my officiating partners for that game: Rachel Martinez and Kevin Kizewski. We rarely had to blow our whistles in a contest that was well-played and close the whole way. I remember that, even with the ten minute halftime and the uncertainty of the outcome down to the last few seconds, the contest was finished in an hour.
Unfortunately, most basketball games are not like that! And that hints at the problem. It gives us an inkling of why the number of people willing to put on a striped shirt, run up and down a court with a whistle in their mouth, and have their intelligence questioned is slipping.
I’ve been on both sides of the sidelines, wearing a black and white striped shirt inside the lines and a shirt and tie on the other side of it. I’ve asked coaches to stay in their “box” (the designated area in front of their team bench that runs now from the baseline to the 28-foot line) and also been the one standing in the box.
Sixteen years as a basketball official and twenty plus years as a basketball coach. After the 2017 high school basketball season I decided to hang up the striped shirt. I made that decision for several reasons.
The first two were quite simple; I wasn’t getting any younger, and I enjoyed coaching much more than officiating. Two good reasons…except for the acknowledgment of my advancing age as an AARP member!
The other reasons, however, were troubling.
Parents! How do you fix parents, specially parents of young athletes? In the increasing of games that need to be covered, youth basketball games are like a locust storm. In helping out our game assignor in the covering of some of these games I had to deal with parents that were belligerent, unrealistic, and obnoxious. One mom, who I asked to relocate from underneath one of the baskets to the side of the court because of her language during a 5th-6th grade game, told me she had paid admission to get in. Since I heard her urge her son (I’m assuming it was her son!) to kill one of the opposing players I moved her and informed her that we weren’t going to start the game again until she relocated. She had lost perspective! She forgot that this was a game that was being played by young boys and it was for their enjoyment, not for her “revenge on life” attitude!
How do you fix parents? I tell the parents of the players I coach to keep perspective on what it is we’re about. If anything needs to be said to an official I’ll say it, not them.
In saying that let me also say that most parents are great! They understand that having their child’s team beat the archival is a great moment, but not life-defining. Finding a cure for cancer would be life-defining for the discoverer and the people helped by it. Being a community peacekeeper would be life-defining. Walking with a family through struggles and heartaches would be life-defining. Most parents understand that and help their adolescent athletes develop a balanced view on life.
Here’s another reason! The blurring of authority. That is, the minimizing of the respect for the ones blowing the whistles. The disrespect comes from fans, coaches, and players. For every coach with integrity like Mike Burkett there’s a coach on the other side of the fence who sees the referees as the enemies. In recent years the number of assaults on referees has increased. A recent basketball game between two club teams ended with players from one of teams physically attacking the officials. Physical assaults happen just as much at contests between teams of younger-aged players as they do with high school teams.
In other words, those wearing the striped shirts have become the targets to aim at for frustrated players, coaches, and fans. People have forgotten what the purposes are for there to be people wearing the stripes. Perhaps it’s simply a smaller arena example of how authority has become blurred in our culture.
Ask public school teachers if changes have occurred in regards to the respect of their authority during their teaching career!
Ask coaches about the attitudes of their athletes. Even though the size of the ball has remained the same the way they coach their players has to now contend with some attitude warts.
The examples of the abuse of authority has contributed to the disdain of authority.
As a coach I keep perspective on how things are. Last year I coached two middle school basketball teams and a freshman team. The officials we had were often new officials who still make the same boneheaded decisions that I made in my first few years of refereeing. So I would tell my players that new officials need to start someplace, and we’re the place they usually start…so it is what it is! Let me be the one to ask them questions! My players saw that I wasn’t contentious or abrasive, but rather that those wearing the striped shirts and I each had a role and a purpose and we, in most situations, tried to work together to be participants of a great athletic contest.
After all, if there aren’t any people to wear the stripes and officiate the games who will do it?
The parents?????
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Grace, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: basketball officials, basketball referee, club sports, coaching athletes, middle school sports, Mike Burkett, respecting authority, sports officials, sports officiating, sportsmanship, striped shirts, the lack of respect
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Words from WW Blog 