Rantings of a basketball coach

Few things can compare to watching a young person, male or female playing their first truly organized sport. Because I am an elitist I count seventh grade boys basketball as the first sport. I mostly do this because it’s what I am experience in, and it’s the first time a child will come into contact with the possibilities of being cut. As you watch them play you may wonder how the coach gets 12 seventh graders to work so well together or vise versa. To understand the situation better I will let you in on the coach’s interaction with the players.

“Yes James, there will be cuts this year, that’s why its so important that each of you play as hard as you can, there is no substitution for hard work, other than talent. Still, when you combine the two you’ll be in pretty good shape. Well not you specifically, but you get my point.”

“My goodness boys, everyone into the locker room on the double!
Now that we are alone, everyone make sure your athletic supporter is not on backwards. I am just going to head out while you guys fix that little oversight.”

“That’s a funny joke James, but all humor aside, I don’t need an assistant coach right now, lets just make sure your actually working on these drills.”

“Asthma huh, James I am shocked. I understand, I also have asthma, don’t worry if we monitor it we you should still be able to play. What’s that? No, cuts are not until next Monday.”

“Once again, your athletic supporter does not make you impervious to damage or injury to that region. This should explain the importance of protecting ourselves when we set screens. James why don’t you crawl over to the sidelines, Franklin will take your place.”

“James, if I didn’t know better I would assume you have only read about this sport, is that a fair statement? IT IS! Let’s break this down, if you see all your teammates on one end of the floor trying to stop the other team from scoring. I think its a pretty good idea to go help them. That will build rapport with your teammates better than jumping up and down shouting how open you are.”

“James that’s funny, a club foot, get back out there and keep working. No, cuts are not until Monday.”

“Good news James, three kids that were going to make the team got girlfriends and have now joined the choir group. That means you made the team. . . . . Now, now, now stop crying. Whoa, that’s unacceptable physical contact, just some advice, coaches don’t like hugs.”

“What? Medically cleared of asthma, it’s a miracle. Oh no, it won’t affect how much playing time you get. I don’t want to risk you coming down with it again.”

“Good practice boys, way to work hard and stay focused. James’s mom informed me he will be back on Wednesday, so let’s make tomorrow really count okay.”

“First game boys, everyone have their equipment on right? James, don’t use your shorts for a personal residence, that will just stretch them out so they won’t fit right.”

“Okay, James I need you to go in, you’re guarding number 23. . . What, no that’s not Michael Jordan. Listen, stick with your guy, play hard, and don’t shoot unless you’re all alone under the basket. Hey, pull up your shorts.”

“Franklin, get in there for James, he has mooned the crowd one too many times. . . .
James, that’s why we don’t use our shorts as a cave, you can’t play until those shorts fit right.”

“Of course all we have to drink is water. What do you think this is the NBA? Gatorade costs money and besides you would just drink until you were sick. That stuff is just watered down Kool-Aid.”

“Our people are working around the clock to get your shorts back up and running James. They should be ready by mid season at the earliest. Now get back under that basket and keep practicing those wide open shots.”

“It’s a record; they fixed your shorts in time for you to finish out the season. Let’s not use them like a personal burrow. Yeah, like that.”

“Okay everyone huddle up, there are two seconds left and we need a score to win. James you are going to sprint out to the corner like we have had Franklin doing all day and Franklin you go straight to the basket taking James’s spot under the basket. That way we can get you a lay-up and win this game. I am hoping that the guy guarding James will react the same way he has all game and follow him away from the basket. All right, let’s go.”

“YEEEEEEEEES, YEEEEEEEEEEEES. What a shot!! What a shot!!! I can’t believe it. Great job everyone, great job. James, how did you know that if you didn’t move that kid would run to the corner leaving you all alone under the basket? It’s a good thing I’ve had you practicing that shot all season. Oh, you just forgot the play, well let’s keep that between ourselves okay. As far as I am concerned and as you should tell it, you just faked that kid out of his pants. Nice shot.”

“Well, another end to the season boys. Just for fun I bought you Gatorade for your last practice, don’t go overboard though I wouldn’t want anyone here getting sick.”

“Don’t worry about it James, I will get the body fluids kit and clean it up. Well, let’s call it a day, have a great time this off season, hopefully I will see most of you back next year.” (Yes, even you James)

Power to the people. . . . . . locally at least.

So with the difficult economic times ever present in our daily lives I have been in the deep end of thought. Lucky for me I have my water wings to keep me above surface as I tread water in thought. One thought that has stuck out is the concept of shopping locally. Now this may seem like common place to most of you out there. You may say to yourself. What are you talking about Cody, I just went shopping at my friendly local Wal-Mart, do you think I shop Wyoming for my goods and services. What I am referring to is the local merchant that may not get the business that he needs to keep producing. I am the first to admit that this, for the most part, is an area that I need work on.

What got me thinking about this is our local video store/ copy center/ mail drop station/ hair care/ tire service center. Walkers video is a small town video store, and through diversification into other markets is carving out a niche for itself. The Main Niche would be movie rentals. I love me some movies, why just last week I was at Redbox 3 times getting a different movie, and by the looks of our new Redbox, right next to the old Redbox in Albertsons, I think they are carving out a niche for themselves. My only question to this awesome device of convenience is, “where does that money taken from my debit card go”? Where does your money really go? With Redbox the money you put into never really makes it back into our local economy. Instead it is shipped off to some office back east where they light Cuban cigars with it and laugh at the genius of some 24 year old new hire who pitched the idea to his manager about renting videos from a vending machine. Said manager, was quick to laugh this person out of his office, but not as quick as he was on the phone to his district manager with his “great idea”. I would be willing to bet dollars to donuts that the person who thought of Redbox does not get money from that idea. Sorry about that tangent. Still, the ability of this product to produce money far outweighs the cost to maintain it. It probably takes one person in the Idaho Falls area to keep this up and running. So, what do you think that one meager paycheck brings back into our local economy? Now think back to Walkers video, say he rents out his location to a local business park owner. BAM, that’s probably more money in the local economy than that one Redbox worker. Most of Walkers employees look like high school kids. As a teenager, how long did you hold on to your money before it left your pocket. Exactly, that money goes straight into this area. See how it mushrooms from there. The potential to keep our money in the area is increased just by paying a dollar more for a new release.

Let’s take this up a notch; I work for a local company whose headquarters are located in south eastern Idaho. So it’s safe to say that my pay check is full of dollars, lets call them IF dollars, just for the shiggles of it. I take these IF dollars and rent a couple of movies from Walkers, well my IF dollars have a new lease on life, they are still IF dollars, since they are going into one of the paychecks of a local youth. Since we are bordering on lunacy, lets say this young. . . . .man, yeah, young man. Let’s pretend that he has a craving for tacos, but not just any taco, taco wagon tacos. He drives across the street to purchases 3 tacos azada from the local taco wagon. Once again our IF dollars have a new local lease on life. With this young mans IF dollars he owner goes to a local Mexican shop to purchase extra goods to keep making their top of the line tacos, and so on and so on. That right there shows the power of shopping locally. I mean look at how much money was just passed around by renting a couple of movies from Walkers. I think that’s a more effective use of our local money. That would be your money at work locally. Now let’s go back to the Redbox. You select the movie of your choice from the convenient touch screen and swipe your debit card. Your reward is quickly dispensed. Now, that IF dollar begins its journey. The fat cats at Coinstar/Redbox inc. withdraw the 1 to 2 dollars from your local bank account and . . .. . . . they are used to light a Cuban cigar in some huge office overlooking Chicago. Your money is not really working for or with you now is it? Makes you think. . . . Just a bit.

The big event never comes out that big.

Have you ever noticed that you tell a story and when you were there it was this marvelous and funny experience, but when you tell your friends the story always ends with, " you had to be there" I think that may sum up this piece I have just finished. . . . . . . . Oh, Hamburger.

Race day was special for two reasons. First it was my first official 5k. Second it would be taking place on the biggest day of the year in my hometown of 400 people, because of a parade and other pioneerie (yes I just made this word up) activities. These activities would transform my hometown into a bustling center of activity and life. The population of this aspiring ghost town would increase 7 fold for 1 day. This year was also the 10^th anniversary of the 5K run. With all this craziness going on I was expecting a crowd upwards of 30 people even. I was shocked when I arrived and found over 70 people there. You have to keep in mind that in this part of the country running is not a major past time. The elevation is over 5000 feet and even diehard runners don't train more than the 5 months of spring summer and fall. Despite my astonishment my confidence had been built and boosted by Chuck, detailed programs, and a short magazine article that went over the most common traps and mistakes made by runners in their first 5k. It talked of doing some light running, to not start out too fast to avoid burning out, and to eat something light like skim milk and a banana before starting the run. For all I knew this article had run more 5k’s than me so I followed its advice to the T, but I did think it was a bit weird to eat before running. Nevertheless, I was ready to unleash my new knowledge upon the route that stood before me. As the horn sounded and we began to run all these young kids took off at a sprint and shot out into the lead. This reminded me to take the first bit slowly and let my body warm up a bit more, making it easier for me to make up time on the back end. I round a street corner and looked ahead, all those little kids that had taken off at a sprint were either walking or rounding another corner taking them out of the race. I could only assume that after receiving the t-shirt, there was little else for them to prove and they were heading home. Chalk that good starting advice up on in the old metal rolodex. On the long path towards the cemetery, (foreshadowing anyone?), that would take us there and back I noticed quite a few people were slowing down. This allowed me to pass someone without a superhuman effort. My slow start was speeding up, creating the illusion that I was movin'. Then the leaders, who were on their return trip, shot past me. Oh my, what a site to behold, it was like watching a sleek gazelle run through the plains of Africa. I marveled at the fluidness of these runners movements; working together to create a balance that moved them effortlessly towards the finish line. Only later did I realize that I had just barley passed the 1 mile marker when they passed me, yeah I am really "movin". I was not to be discouraged though, there were still people ahead of me and I felt I was gaining on them. As I rounded the turn that marked the half way point I noticed runners close enough to catch. With this goal in mind I continued at a comfortable pace that soon proved to be too slow. Drawing on experiences of my youth I threw discretion and physical comfort to the wind and increased my pace. Soon, I had one more person that I could realistically pass, a young girl of about 12. When your only victory in racing is being second to last, beating a 12 year old girl is not below you. Increasing my speed a bit more I was able catch and pass said young girl. Now, I don’t know if it was me pushing myself, the realization that passing a 12 year old holds little honor, or that my body was rejecting the milk and banana, but I was now overcome with a desire to stop running so my stomach could relive itself. So I did what any runner with my expertise and training would do, I prayed, but not to your average God or Gods. No, I prayed to the running Gods, and they smiled upon me. Yet I do think the Gods smile was one of amusement and mirth, evidenced by the 12 year old girl passing me. Once I had regained my stomach and started to race towards the finish I realized that I was not going to catch that girl. That’s what you get for praying to running Gods. Still, all was not lost; I did place first in my division which isn’t as cool as it sounds when you make up the entire division. . . .Gods smiling again I guess.

Well until next time, just remember if you’re not first, your last. Unless its me then you can be both, which is even more impressive.

2nd verse pretty much same as the first.

Well this is the second installment of a three part series. As you can probably see my writing is improving and I am better able to get my point across in a concise manner. I like this middle piece, I feel like I hit my humor points a bit better. Any comments are welcomed. enjoy

My first run in about 10 years only confirmed my old feelings about running. The main section of our local green belt is 2.5 miles around. Since I played basketball 3 times a week and felt I was in pretty good shape I felt it would be a good starting point. I began by running at the same pace I once ran in high school. This same pace had helped me finish 2^nd to last. Now there was a problem, I couldn’t run that fast. I couldn’t even maintain that pace for more than five minutes. Something had to be wrong with me; I could have ran that 40 pounds ago. Soon I was frustrated and wondering why I had considered running. Lucky for me a neighbor was an avid runner. To look at my neighbor Chuck, was to behold a contradiction. Some may call Chuck overweight; I will just call him big boned. He was a marathon runner, yeah all 26.2 miles. Still, what Chuck taught me was that he had no problem averaging an 11 to 12 minute mile. I on the other hand was still in the mentality that if you were running that slowly you might as well be walking. This thinking did not change the fact that if he and I were race for more than 4 miles he would smoke me just from that slow but steady pace. He told me of running at a pace that would allow me to talk while I ran, if I was running faster than that, to slow down. Chuck was astute, I could run longer when I was able to run and hold a conversation at the same time. I only wish there was some other way to monitor my speed. I have to admit that I did feel a bit awkward talking as I passed the posh restraint on our greenbelt. Its not everyday you see a runner talking to themselves. With this new found knowledge, and embarrassment I was back on the road with a plan. Never underestimate the power of a plan, it can motivate, remind, and correct the problems you’re having in training. With this preparation I threw distance out the window. I now began to run based on time. I started just running 15 minutes a day thinking, “who cant run 15 minutes, that’s simple enough”. Soon I had bumped that up to 20 minutes then 30 minutes. Once I hit thirty minutes I re dedicated myself to running a certain distance. The green belt loop was staring me in the face after my first failed attempt. Much to my surprise it was completed in less than 30 minutes. By learning to run for a length of time rather than a certain distance, I had taken myself beyond the threshold of what I originally wanted to run without realization. I only had to increase my distance .6 miles and I would be able to run a 5k. Half a mile is a little distance when you’ve just improved by over 2 miles in a few short weeks. A week from the 5k I had done a long run of 4 miles. I was more than prepared for this challenge I was over prepared and thats something that rarely happens with me.. I have always said, “If it wasn’t for the last minute I wouldn’t get anything done.” This new felling of being over prepared bred a new confidence in me and decreased my fear of what could not be seen. I did not fear the looming race or any potential embarrassment from running in front of my home town. After all I had been running all over town the last few weeks talking to myself.

1st section, rough draft. THE BEGINNING

Every Story needs a beginning, and this is the beginning beginning, I mean little editing has taken place and I didnt even break it into paragraphs. Here is how it all started for me.

My first 5K was started on a whim. I thought, hey my home town has a 5k why don’t I run in it for something to do. To understand why this is a monumental task for me let me take you back to my high school days of running. We had a football coach that was older than old school, a broken down boxer/cowboy who had lost the movement of wrists and shoulders in random accidents and would implore us to be tougher than boiled owl. If I ever have the pleasure of consuming that owl I will be prepared. This metaphor was carried over to every practice, at least the end of practice. Every day after practice he would force us to run 10 times around the track. Unfortunately due to the usual budget constraints of a school of 80 kids, our track was just a dirt path around the football field, by the rode grounds, and just around the makeshift rode staging area/parking lot/makeout spot/winter time ice rink. Those 10 times around the track was a little over a 5k. I loathed running in the heat of a late summer or early fall day in full football gear. However as a farm kid you learn that there is one way to do things work smarter not harder. I would cheat; I would finish up my 7^th lap and tell them it was my tenth. The flaw was that I had to lag back and take my time to make the deception believable. One day I had a date with a nice young lady that I had worked modestly hard to attract her attention. This work included adding 3 classes that my recon sources had found she was in. (Water boys have fantastic attention to detail.) Date/stink prep needed to start as soon as possible. There comes a point in every young mans life when he realizes the value of honest hard work, especially if that works reward is a date. I had to toughed it out. I ran hard and finished first, (this girl was cute). This display of running unfortunately would lead to problems later on in the year. One problem I did not find was scheduling more dates. In fact we began to date enough to force me to find work during the school year, an ominous sign of things to come that I ignored. Now the water boy had been astute in noticing the three classes that I could get into to be with my lady of choice. What he failed to mention was that she was dropping said classes, the dubious reward for trusting her brother. Later in the year an opportunity arose for me to sneak time with my now “friendly girl that lets me drive her to restaurants and pay for her meal.” I saw that she was working on the triple jump for track and field team, and the lure of 2 hour bus rides with her to our nearest meet overrode my distain of running, I joined the team. Soon she had also dropped track leaving me as the only 3 mile runner on our track team. There was no way the coach, who was the same football coach plus, JV basketball coach, bus driver and drivers Ed teacher, was going to let me quit after the performance I had displayed in football practice. The potential had been displayed and he was going to harvest my skill, just as he did wheat in the summers as a farmer. Plus he had hopes that I could actually gain us some points at districts, where there were only 6 other 3 mile runners, with the top 4 being awarded points. Would he unleash my potential? Fast forward to the district meet, last lap, looking twenty yards ahead with 400 meters to go. I set my sight on my opponent and kick it into high gear. With an effort that I would often refer to when I felt life had dealt me a poor hand. I caught my nemasis and with both our legs pounding the pavement as fast as we could muster we lumbered the last 50 yards. I later look back on this and realize its amazing that you can control your appendages even will them to greater heights, even when you cant feel them. I passed this foe to finish second! That would be second to last. There was no way in heaven that I was going to be last of 7 guys; I mean that’s just embarrassing. Now, with a history like this, how could I not be lured to running?

How this is going to work, I really do have a plan.

Well after the last few nights of writing I have noticed what a jumbled mess my writing is. Think of a bunch of words thrown at a blank page and you have the basics of my writing style. For this reason i am going to write one night proofread and edit the other then past what I have written. Now one fun little fact about my writing is that I am going to be sending these off to publishers to see if they are published. I will list who they are being sent to and hopefully have an update on what the status of them are. I had a change of thought after reading some of McManus's book, he said to just submit everything to writers, if he hadn't there is no way he would be where he is now as a writer, as everything that he was writing was serious and not the usual comedy that I have come to know of him. So with that tomorrow night I will be posting the first of three installments on my first 5k that I hope to send to running magazines. . . .. for them to ingnore.

Cody the writer. . . . . .

So, after reading my wifes wonderful blog for so long and knowing that I should be typing/writing more. I have decided to start my own blog, and by blog I mean something other than myspace. As much as I enjoy getting friend invites from scantly clad ladies that are probably men, wanting to be my friend and help me either make millions or, show me how to view their profile elsewhere because its too "conservative" at myspace. I think its time to move on. Its fine, no one looked at my myspace page anyway. Its pretty lame, other than the music which I did enjoy and will be bringing over here with me. Another reason I wanted to start posting again is because of Patrick McManus and his book, Deer on a Bicycle, Excursions into writing humor. I would like to start writing again. For those of you who knew me before college, please keep your laughter to a minimum, you may have a baby sleeping nearby and I would hate for you to wake them on my account.
A little background for you people. I actually focused on English in college and had intended to teach it afterwards until the realization that I would not be able to support my family on that meager salary finally sunk in. Now the real dream of most English students is to be published and become a well known author like, Shakespeare, Twain, or Seuss. That dream in of its self is usually less lucrative than teaching, in fact I think thats what happens to most aspiring writers, they become teachers to stave off starvation. Once they start teaching they think that they are living such a high life of decadence what with there fancy 10 year old cars that actually run and the ability to pay rent on the 2 bedroom apartment their family of four now lives in. Its because of their low standard of living as a writer that conditions them to think that teachers live the good life financially. I mean unless you are J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, or John Grisham writing is a pretty hard life. Heck, I thought McManus was pretty well to do, but after reading his book I know realize that he had been teaching at EWU, and writing at the same time. I guess his teaching was supporting his writing habit. Lucky for me, I have never been published and probably never will so I wont have to get a second job to support my writing habit.

There, now that you have read all of this, you have a better grasp of my writing style and lack of grammar. You will be able to see why its such a far flung dream for me to even have the chance to be published. My dream is to improve at such a dramatic pace writing here that I might get published some time in the future. I think, the "your views" section in the post register would make me happy at this point, but lets not get too far ahead of ourselves.