Last night I made a trip back to my hometown as a part of the long holiday weekend.
I grew up in a small town and for the most part-much like a Jake Owen song-it's the "same ol', same ol', nothing's changed." But as a part of my trip, I got back early enough to catch my high school's Friday night football game. I'm a basketball guy through and through, but there was something that struck me during the contest. Something close to 20 years in the making. Success always stands out. Standing out to me during the game last night was not the size of the players, or the score, or the mentality of the teams when the game was on the line. It was on a coach in the booth. This coach was one of my coaches. This coach has invested in a program for probably close to 20 years. This coach didn't even know I was watching him last night. Or his son. The story goes back to when I played HS football. I was the quarterback. I wore jersey #1. I wanted the eyes on me. I wanted the wins, the spotlight, and the success. Slightly arrogant, under talented, and gritty is how I played. This coach worked with me. This coach talked discipline. This coached talked weights. This coach talked success. He spoke to me. We practiced body language, confidence, leadership, all the things I needed to play quarterback. He bragged me up to our preschool aged ball boy. Had me practice shaking hands with the little guy. He made sure we looked each other in the eye, squeezed firmly, and spoke clearly. He coached me up in a low risk environment, set me up to set a few records and win a few games, and modeled how to be a success in front of people during both wins/losses. I never pursued football beyond those years, but after last night I realized I've never forgotten any of it. One of the most specific things that I remember my football coaches and former players telling my team was that "You are going to miss it. You are going to want to play again." That we could always sign up for an old timers softball league or shoot some hoops down at the Y, but we could never strap on a helmet and get after it again. And that was a feeling they couldn't shake; they would've done more and been more so that they wouldn't have those urges or feelings. As an aspiring leader on that team, I didn't want that for me or our guys, so I bought into their motivational tactics and did the only thing I knew to do, I put everything I had into it and took my teammates with me. If you come back to town with me, I can show you where I threw up after WINNING every single "rockpile" on a hot/humid August day during 2-a-days. I can show you the puddle that they laid one of my best friends in while we waited for an ambulance as he battled heat exhaustion during a practice. I can take you to the sideline where I laid my helmet down prior to a game in honor of September 11th. I can tell you who caught my first and last touchdowns. I remember it all. But I don't miss it. I can honestly say I've never once wanted to play again. And I've asked myself why? Did I not accomplish anything to be nostalgic about? Did I not care enough about the game? Did I have a bad experience that tainted my view? The answer to all those questions is no. The answer is the exact opposite. John Wooden defined SUCCESS as "peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming." I have peace about my playing days because I gave it my all. I became the best that I could be, though it ultimately wasn't very good in comparison to anything in the rest of the football world. Last night, I watched the quarterback. I watched him do what I did. Except better. He ran harder, shifted positions better, talked to his teammates clearer. He was bigger, faster, stronger. Then again, my attention shifted...to his dad. It all came together. Full circle. That ball boy that I practiced with...is now the leader, the quarterback, the coaches son. My coach was preparing his son, I'd assume preparing him with all he had, using our team and my teammates to get his son to this point. I hope they are having their John Wooden moments: having peace of mind in the effort they have put forth to be where they are today. I hope that I continue to have MY John Wooden moments beyond football, or basketball, with my sons. With my career. With the rest of my life. And I want that for YOU! I want your best effort and your peace of mind. I want your success. I am thankful for the example, the consistency, and the ability to recognize the wisdom on display under the Friday Night Lights. Let me know if you have thoughts on examples from your own life. Share your comments, this article, or your story while you think about: Where are you with your example? Your plan? Or your legacy? Maybe it's not that deep...where are you with your family? Your effort? Your day? If you need help with any of it: LET ME KNOW! If you have a friend that you want me to connect with: LET ME KNOW! Success always stands out. And relationships matter. Everything speaks. Make sure you are listening.
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DJ JohnstonDaddy. Leader. Visionary. Archives
March 2020
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