This is an article I wrote for an ECS publication called Flight that came out this month.
Our former Headmaster Mr. Steve Collums for as long as I can
remember referred to athletics at Evangelical Christian School as
“co-curricular.” I always had the picture in my head that he meant for
athletics at ECS to “run along side” of academics in an effort to aid, enhance,
and complete its mission beyond the classroom setting. Never in all my years at
this school did it occur to me that winning
should trump the lessons and relationships that come through the daily
strivings of practice. Winning alone, even winning them all, cannot be
co-curricular.
In 1999 as the last seconds rolled off the clock securing a
13-0 state championship season, I stepped across the white sideline and onto a
field of wild, jubilant, mayhem. Players, coaches, and fans swarmed the field
high -fiving, hugging, shouting, cheering, crying …displaying every possible
emotion in the immediate aftermath of that victory. That kind of scene floats
in the dreams of every high school player. It had floated in mine as a coach. We
all came to know it as the “The Dream Season”. And that day, dreams became
reality on the turf of Vanderbilt Stadium.
Yet, twenty minutes into the celebration, I distinctly
remember asking myself, “Is this it?” The power of the moment had fled almost
as rapidly as it had burst out at the expiration of the clock. Glory proved
fleeting and it would only pause for a very short while before it dashed on
leaving behind the sobering recognition that we would have to do it all again
the next year if we wanted this
feeling.
Fast forward to 2013. Once again I found myself treading the
turf of Vanderbilt Stadium, only this time our team wouldn’t be playing there
for a championship. We were walking through … practicing. We were on our way to
another stadium and yet another state championship game.
The tunnel, the turf,
the stadium ambushed me. I found myself walking alone on the same sideline I
had walked 14 years earlier but now with tears streaming down my face. I sat on
a bench and wept. I wept because the game of football had revealed the
character of those young men to me and I missed them. I loved them. I loved the
process of coaching those boys and watching them grow into men.
Frankly, that’s what we do in athletics at Evangelical
Christian School. We love the process. Winning just doesn’t last long enough.
Winning is just window dressing for the process called coaching. Our Athletic
Director Geoff Walters seems cagey to some people when they ask him about the
prospects of our teams and he replies, “I’ll tell ya in about 15 years.” What
he means is that the success of our athletic program has nothing to do with
wins and losses but has everything to do with the process of helping young
people live lives of integrity and influence for Christ.
A recent conversation with Bill Edwards (’00), member of
that 1999 Dream Season, confirmed yet again the long lasting power of an
athletic program committed to the process of growing young men and women of
integrity. “We had a group of godly men who invested in us not only as athletes
but in life! The coaches at ECS spoke
truth into our lives and modeled for us what it means to be a godly man,
husband, father, etc..” Bill went on to
say “The influence that the coaches had
in my life and many others is absolutely priceless, and I am so thankful to
have had the opportunity to be a part of that community. You just don't find that same commitment at
the next levels.” Having played D-1 college baseball and spent a good deal of
time in the minor leagues, he’s encountered plenty of coaches.
Kelsey Huggins (‘11) explains that the chief lesson of her
ECS athletic career centered on grace. “The most valuable lesson I learned was
one about grace. Our coaches not only taught us the skills and strategies to
succeed on the field, but they showed us how to play with humility and walk
away from a game with dignity. Looking
back, I don't remember the games we lost or the good plays I made. Instead, when I look back on my recent days
as an ECS athlete, I remember the grace and love my coaches and teammates
showed me.” Kelsey has gone on to share those lessons of grace while working in
Africa and Guatemala over the past year.
Early in May, Palmer Albertine (’00) delivered the chapel
message centered on his relationship with his best friend and teammate from
that 1999 team. Palmer’s passionate retelling of Brandon Fitzhugh’s (’00) tragic
death was a powerful example of the same grace that Kelsey mentioned. His love
for Brandon, whose life was spiraling out of control, was forged on the
athletic fields of ECS and in an environment where Palmer was certain that
“…their (coaches) real concern wasn’t about winning games, but about winning
the eternal game.” That eternal perspective finds Palmer as an elementary PE
teacher and coach at Presbyterian Day School where he is now investing himself
in the lives of young boys and keeping the process that began at ECS going.
Countless other examples of the impact of the ECS athletic
program live on in the likes of Barrett Jones and Morgan Cox, but theirs is a
big stage. However, many more former ECS athletes play on smaller stages all
over the world. Some of them are PE teachers, restaurateurs, preachers,
missionaries, soldiers, cadets, moms and dads. Some sell stocks and bonds and
some of them raise chickens in Africa. What
they do doesn’t matter so much as why
they do. And the why comes from an
understanding that all of life is practice for eternal life. And practice
matters.
I think the tears that clouded my vision last fall at
Vanderbilt served as a fitting prism to see clearly once again that we are
about something infinitely more important than a winning season. We are about
winning people. Forever.
Great insight, Coach Durham. I was in the band at that memorable game :) Look forward to reading more. - Annie (Gray) Hendry
ReplyDelete