Magic on the Mountain

To me, there's always a little magic on the Mountain.  Good, memorable things just seem to happen every time we're here.  

Yesterday, while the four of us were at the Fowler Center, playing tennis, then pickle ball, we ran into Walter Kurrtz, one of my favorite people.  Walter was a Circuit Court Judge in Davidson County (Nashville) for many years.  I appeared in front of him on several occasions, most memorably in a trial of a small claims court appeal - Sonya Henderson v. Jerry Harlan - in which my close friend, Worrick Robinson and I went toe-to-toe. 

This was in the mid-1990's.  Worrick beat me in a bench trial (no jury), when Judge Kurtz refused to allow me to voluntarily dismiss my client's appeal from small claims court.  My client, Jerry Henderson, was a character, to be sure.  As I recall, he wanted me to play tapes of conversation he had with Ms. Henderson which I did, on a large jam box.  It was a landlord-tenant case and the facts were unsavory.  I was very uncomfortable and Jerry Henderson wasn't happy with the Judge's Kurtz'a decision, particularly since it included an award of monetary damages against him.  

One of things I recall this most, though, is that after the trial, as I was licking my wounds outside the courtroom before I got own the elevator and walked back to my office at Manier, Herod, Judge Kurtz sent his longtime court officer, Joe, out to talk to me.  Joe passed along to me that Judge Kurtz thought I had done a good job with the facts that I had.  He also told me that Judge Kurtz knew, as a young associate, I didn't always get to pick my clients.

Those words from Judge Kurtz meant the world to me, as a young lawyer.  He was a judge that I respected - a judge we all respected - and for him to have the thoughtfulness to send Joe out to talk with me and share an encouraging word or two was a kindness I will never forget.  I've tried to do the same thing when I have a case against a young lawyer and I have the facts or the client is difficult.  

I appealed Judge Kurtz's ruling on the issue of whether my client could voluntarily dismiss his appeal from small claims court.  I wrote the brief and argued the case in the Tennessee Court of Appeals.  Fittingly, I got the last laugh when the Court of Appeals agreed with me and reversed Judge Kurtz's decision.  In the end, Jerry Harlan and I got the win.  It's a reported case.  June 11, 1997.  You can look it up.

Everything Walter Kurtz said in Court, he said with a twinkle in his eye and an almost grin on his face.  His judicial temperament was A +.  Inquisitive.  Highly intelligent.  Interested in what the attorneys had to say.  He always seemed happy to be a judge.  

That's a long story, to be sure, but it was a treat to see Walter Kurtz at the Fowler Center yesterday.  Later, walking Abbo's Alley on the way back to house, Jude stopped by and visited with Walter and his wife, Ellen Hobbs Lyle.  Judge Lyle was a Chancellor in Davidson County for many years.  Jude and I are big fans of her, too.  She and Walter are a delightful couple, to say the least.  Years ago, on a run across from MBA on a route I've not run since, I happened upon them in the front yard of their house on a secluded street off West End Avenue.

Today at 10 a.m., Jude is going to hike the Fiery Gizzard with her friend, Betty Teasley.  Betty was displaced from her home in Asheville, NC, after the recent flooding.  As I understand it, she is living temporarily in a home her family owns in Monteagle.  Betty always has been one of my favorite's of Jude's friends and I'm happy that Jude is going to get to spend some time with her today.  

After we played pickle ball yesterday, Joe and I flopped down in the high jump pit - or what passes for the high jump pit - and talked for a few minutes.  He had left me a thoughtful, handwritten note when he and Jude left for the Mountain Tuesday night.  Apparently, at school, one of his teachers had asked the students to write an note of gratitude to someone.  He chose me.  I'll save the note forever, of course.  I wanted Joe to know how much I appreciate him and treasure our relationship.  I also wanted him to know how proud I am of him.  

Those kind of moments just seem to happen on the Mountain.  Magic moments.

Thanksgiving Weekend on the Mountain

For what I believe is the fifth year in a row, we're spending Thanksgiving weekend on Monteagle Mountain, in a house on Tennessee Avenue in the middle of Sewanee's campus.  It's the same house we've rented each year, as a result of which it's come to feel a little bit like our house, at least at Thanksgiving.

This year was a little bit different, because JP wanted to run in the Boulevard Bolt with some of his cross country teammates, past and present.  As a result, Jude and Joe drove up to the Mountain on Tuesday evening, hung out on campus on Wednesday, then returned home Thanksgiving morning.  I stayed in Nashville with JP, who got up early and ran in the Bolt, also on Thursday morning.  We had Thanksgiving lunch with Jude's parents at noon, which was nice, as always.  Jude, JP, and Joe drove back to the Mountain mid-afternoon.  I followed later in the evening, after I got coffee at Pinewood Social from the Crema baristas inside the restaurant.  Rest assured, I can always find good coffee, even on a holiday.

JP finished 6th overall in the Bolt, finishing in 27:01.  His finish wasn't office because he didn't know he had to pick up his race number before the race.  Live and learn, I guess.  His time was impressive, though, particularly since he ran the first three miles at more of a practice pace, before racing the last two miles.  JP's teammate from last year and close friend, Samuel Trumble, who is running at Kansas University, won the Bolt going away, clocking in right at 25:00.  Impressive.  

Earlier in the week, Jude made the point that this is quite likely our last Thanksgiving weekend on the Mountain because JP will want to spend the weekend out of school with his friends.  Sadly - for me, anyway - I realized she was right.  There is no way I would have wanted to go out of town every Thanksgiving weekend when I was in high school.  I would have wanted to hang out with my friends.  I guess all good things must come to an end, right?

I stayed up late last night reading and finished my third John D. MacDonald (Travis McGee) novel.  It's been my favorite literary find of 2024, thanks to an afterword in one of George Pelecanos's novels.  As much as I love James Lee Burke (Dave Robicheaux), Michael Connelly (Bosch), Robert Crais (Elvis Cole and Joe Pike), and Walter Mosley (Easy Rawlins), John D. MacDonald is quickly becoming one of my favorites.

I went for a run this morning - this first cold weather run for me of the season with temperatures in the low 30's when I started - three miles to the Sewanee baseball field and back.  Later, JP ran five miles and we all met up at the Fowler Center for tennis.  JP and Joe threw the baseball, inside, on the indoor tennis courts, and Joe and I played a spirit pickle ball match.  Joe won the first game and I one the last two, as all of the games were very close.  It was great fun.  

Tonight, it's off to Shenanigan's for dinner and Hearts.  

It's good to be back on the Mountain.  

NXR 2024

Early this afternoon in Cary, North Carolina, the fell on MBA's varsity cross country season as the team finished in a 10th place tie on their return to NXR.  For Jack, Charlie, Jack, Brady, JP, Gabe, and Will, it was their last race together and, honestly, that hits me kind of hard. 

It's such a great group of boys.  Great things ahead, I know, for all of them.  Over the course of the season and particularly here, in Cary, NC, I've gotten to know each of them a little better, particularly the older boys.  Because I rented a Jeep Grand Wagoneer, I was the official team driver.  As such, I drove the boys to and from dinner last night and to the race this morning.  Just listening to them talk to each other made me smile.  

Topics?  Vanderbilt basketball.  Vanderbilt football.  NXR.  College cross country team.  Running, lots of running.  The proper pronunciation of Nevada (my personal favorite).  

JP flew into Raleigh, NC, on Thursday afternoon.  I couldn't make it until Friday, as I was stuck in mediation on Thursday.  Truth be told, I think JP liked having the hotel room to himself, at least for one night, anyway.  

Yesterday, not too long after I arrived, we drove over to WakeMed Soccer Park, so the boys could run the course.  I ran it, too, with John Hyatt accompanying me along the way.  The course is hilly.  It's a real cross course, for sure.  It's beautiful, though, as a large part of the course is on a wide gravel path in the woods.  It was more than a little humbling, though, to be passed by runner after runner, male and female.  I took the tiniest amount of pride in the fact that at 58, there is a good chance I was the oldest runner on the course.  

The entire group had dinner last night at Vic's Italian Restaurant and Pizzeria in Raleigh, NC.  Vic's is a small place - a joint - but the food was excellent.  It was tremendously enjoyable to talk to the boys' parents and really get to know some of them better, although it's a bit sad that the weekend is a bit of a one off, as these type of weekends are.  Four of the seven boys are graduating and, as a result, their parents won't be around next year.  

I think that's part of what makes these type of weekends so memorable.  NXN in Portland, OR, last year and NXR in Cary, NC, this year are singular events.  They won't be repeated because the team changes, the families change, and you know that going in.  For me, anyway, the nostalgia creeps in during the weekend, not just afterwards.  

After dinner, several of the parents had a drink downstairs in a sitting area near the bar.  Good conversation among good people, all of us excited for the race the next day.  All of proud of our sons. 

I was stymied in my search of a good coffee shop this morning by road closures for the Raleigh, NC Christmas Parade.  I ended up at the Farmer's Market at a coffee booth - 321 - which actually was pretty nice.  As I sipped my coffee, I listened to four older gentleman broadcast a radio show about gardening at a table nearby.  It was peaceful, at least until a bird flying in the rafters decided to drop a dolly of shit on my sweatshirt.  I had to laugh.  

The boys' championship race was the finale today after several other races for boys and girls from smaller schools.  Traffic wasn't bad, in large part due to the fact that Coach Bassett went to law school at N.C. State and was able to take us to WakeMed Soccer Park on the back roads.  Fortunately, I was able to talk my way past a security guard and into the parking lot, which was closed, since I had our entire team in the Grand Wagoneer.  In the end, I lucked into a parking place within waling distance of the entry to the course.  

In the girls' race, Brentwood High School - my alma mater - finished in second place by 1 second over Webb School of Knoxville and punched their ticket to NXN in the girls' championship race, which was phenomenally close.  

The boys' field was fast, really fast.  I can't imagine another region had a field this fast across the board.  Keegan Smith set the course and state (Tennessee) record with a blistering 14.23:3.  I saw him finish and I was astonished at how fast he was running up the hill to the finish line.  I've never seen anything like it in person.  

Jack Wallace finished in 22nd at 15:17:9, an impressive time for him.  JP finished 52nd at 15:38:40.  He was a bit disappointed, I think, because he would have liked to have run 15:30.  Still, it was around 15 seconds faster than her ran at NXR last year.  Jack, JP, and other boys were battling the sniffles and coughing all weekend, so to run the time they ran was impressive.  

Most of the boys and their families left for the airport after the race.  Some went to look at UNC's campus in Chapel Hill, NC, like we did, then left tonight on the 9 p.m. flight.  I took JP to Al's Burger Shack after he toured the campus.  Great cheeseburger.  Then, we drove back to the hotel, which is where I am, now, ha ing a bourbon downstairs and unwinding.

It's been a memorable weekend.  I'm blessed.

Weekend at Joe's Place

Joe hit the sports trifecta this weekend.  Basketball Saturday morning, followed by a baseball scrimmage at Ensworth High School Saturday afternoon.  On Sunday, he played two Armada soccer games in the rain against the 2013 red and blue teams.

As Thomas was out of town, I coached Joe's basketball team in the 10 a.m. game at West End Middle School.  I love old school gyms and for sure, it's one of those.  For once, Joe's team - the Bucket Squad - had eight players, so we opened up playing full court, man-to-man, partly because I thought it would get the boys into the game early.  I think my plan worked for the most part, as the boys played with energy and emotion from the opening tip.

I've been on Joe to shoot the basketball more and to play offense with confidence.  He was more aggressive offensively in this game and scored eight points.  The highlight of the game, for me, was when Nash drew a charge in the second half.  That brought our bench to its feet, including coaches.  I loved it.  The other team was not very good, as indicated by the final score (40-13).  

Saturday afternoon, the rain held off for the most part, so Joe's HBC baseball team was able to get in a scrimmage at Ensworth High School.  Jude took Joe after his ICEE preparation class.  I left a little early to pick him up, so I was able to watch a couple of innings.  

The big field is tough for Joe and many of his teammates, which is to be expected.  Joe hit a ball hard the last time at bat and grounded into a double play.  As much as Joe loves baseball, he's got to get stronger iff he's going to keep playing in middle school and beyond.  That's especially true if he's going to be a smaller kid, which appears to be the case.  

Joe's attitude on the field is always great.  In baseball, as in basketball, he's the ultimate glue guy.  Encouraging his teammates, blocking for a pitcher warming up in right field during the game, hustling on and off the field.  In the end, though, he's got to produce at the plate and develop more arm strength.  That's the bottom line.   

Yesterday, Joe's Armada team played two scrimmage games at Father Ryan High School in near constant rain.  I drew the short straw, so to speak, and drove Joe there for the 11:45 a.m. start.  Actually, I was comfortable as I sat in my camping chair, rocking and listening to Widespread Panic, shielded from the rain by my giant golf umbrella.  I had jogging pants on and the rain jacket I bought last December in Portland, so I was good to go.  

The boys won both games handily, as they should have, since their opponents were a year younger.  It was fun watching Joe play in the field and handle the ball more, even at forward, since he's normally in goal.  It will be interesting to see how much Joe plays in the State League games this spring, when his team probably will go with one goalie.  He and Liam are fairly even in skills to my uneducated eye.  

I cherish these busy sports weekends with Joe, in part because I know they're so fleeting.  With middle school rapidly approaching, the days of running around all weekend to various recreational and club sporting events are numbered.  

It was a good weekend.  Youth sports, a lot of reading, college football, treadmill runs, and family time.

  Joe, at 8th & Roast, where we stopped for hot chocolate and coffee after he played two soccer games in the rain at Father Ryan High School Sunday afternoon.

State XC Meet 2024

The night before the cross country state championship at Sanders Ferry Park in Hendersonville, TN, I taught class at Nashville School of Law.  When I arrived home after class, JP was gone for a walk.  After I changed clothes, I went outside and found him walking up our street.  I could tell he was wound pretty tightly, thinking about the race the next day, so I put my arm around him and we walked and talked for a few minutes.  

I searched for some fatherly words of wisdom, something profound, a nugget that might make a difference for him.  Although it's completely normal - part of it, as I often say - for JP to be keyed up before an important race, my paternal instincts are such that I want to carry that burden for him, and I can't.  And I shouldn't.  Why?  Because it's part of it.  

We talked for a while longer, then went inside together.  My message to him? 

Believe.

I gave him a hug and after a little while, he went to bed.  I didn't sleep very well and I'm guessing he didn't either.  

This cross country season has been different for him than last year, as it should be.  And next season will be different for JP than this year.  That's the beauty of being a high school cross country runner.  No two seasons are the same.  Not for him and not for the team.  

I got up early on race day, said goodbye to JP as he lay in his bed, and went to get coffee and stop by Village Dry Cleaners.  After a quick stop by the house, I left for Hendersonville with every intention of arriving well in advance of the 10:50 a.m. start of the race.  I sent JP a text, as I always do before a race, and told him how proud I was of him, how much I loved him, and to go get it.  

When I arrived at Sanders Ferry Park, I made note of the weather.  The rain - predicted earlier the week - had held off and the sky was an overcast, slate gray.  Although it was a little warm, it wasn't too humid and there was a slight breeze.  Not a perfect day to run but considering it could have been really sloppy, it was pretty damn good.  

I found JP at the MBA tent, fist bumped him, and told some of other runners good luck.  "Thanks, coach," a couple of them said.  That always makes me smile, even if it's said tongue in cheek.  Then, I left to walk the course, the only way I know how to deal with my nerves.  

On a hill inside the one mile mark, I found a bench underneath a tree.  I silently prayed.  I thought about how blessed Jude and I are to have the boys we have.  I also thought about how fortunate JP was to have the God given ability to train and compete at a high level.  I was nervous - really nervous, but so very thankful.

As I walked farther away from the starting line, I ran into a father and teacher at the Baylor School.  He had a son running in the race.  When I asked him if he knew my college friend and fraternity brother, Steve Bettis, who died in the early days of the pandemic from Covid-19, he broke into a smile and nodded.  We spent 10 minutes or so reminiscing about Steve and what a force of nature he was in every single circumstance.  His presence is missed by so many.

I also ran into a senior, Ward, from the McCallie School, who had run cross country for them on the junior varsity until this season.  Very nice and respectful young man.  He was very excited to see his classmate, Jack Bowen, run against the slight favorite, Keegan Smith, from Knoxville Catholic.  That promised to be quite a battle. 

I settled in a little before the one mile mark and waited, waited, waited until, suddenly, I heard the bank of the starter's pistol.  The runners were off!

I waited, impatiently, for the runners to make the turn and start up the hill toward where I was standing.  Finally, I saw the 4-wheeler headed toward me and behind it, the lead group of runners.  Keegan Smith, Jack Bowen, Jack Wallace.  And JP, running in a pack with them.  Wow, I thought.  Here we go. I yelled for JP, then ran across a field to get to another spot on the course.

At about the halfway point, JP was still hanging with the lead pack, along with a runner from Christian Brother, but he was slightly behind them.  Jack Wallace was running stride for stride with Keegan Smith and Jack Bowen.  To me - and I could be wrong - it didn't look like JP was running as comfortably as he normally does.  

When I saw the boys again past the two mile mark, it was turning into a two man race for the title, between Keegan Smith and Jack Bowen, as Jack Wallace ran just behind them.  JP had fallen back, along with the Christian Brothers' runner, and I noticed that a runner from Chattanooga Christian was closing on them, turning the race for fourth place into a three man battle.  JP looked like he was fighting it, to me, like he didn't feel great.  

As the leaders approached the finish line less than a mile later, Keegan Smith pulled ahead of Jack Bowen and won comfortably.  Jack Wallace finished in third, behind the leaders.  Very good race for him.  JP and the two other runners were in a dead heat with 25 yards left.  The Chattanooga Christian runner surged ahead and JP didn't have anything left in the tank.  The Christian Brothers' runner nipped him for fifth place, so JP finished in sixth place. 

All of the runners ahead of him were seniors and four of them, if not five, are running in college.  I know JP wanted to finish in fourth place but I was proud of him.  He gave it all he had, as a result of which he briefly collapsed in a heap after the race.  His hands were tingling and he was spent.  After I found him, we walked around for a bit and talked, my arm around him as he processed the race and came back to himself.  He was nauseous for a few minutes but felt better after he drank a little Gatorade.  

Interestingly, Knoxville Catholic and McCallie ended up in a tie with 62 points after JP's teammate, Gabe Guillamondegui, sprinted past a McCallie runner to capture ninth place.  That move by Gabe, who ran the best race I've seen him run and set a PR by a few seconds, dropped McCallie in the tie and, in the end, cost them another state title as Catholic's sixth place runner defeated McCallie's sixth place runner.  MBA finished in third place.   

JP had been fighting a cold for a week or so and my guess is that he was a little more winded than normal in a race like this.  Again, just a guess.

Did JP go out too fast in running with the leaders for the first half of the race?  Maybe.  But as Coach Russ said to me after the race, smiling, "sometimes you need to know."  He was proud of JP and, again, so was I.

Coach Russ's statement hit me right between the eyes because it says everything to me about cross country running at JP's level.  JP needed to know what it felt like to run with the best cross country runners in the state, seniors that are going to be running in college.   

Sometimes you need to know.

Jack Wallace.

My traditional post-race photo of JP and Gabe Guillamondegui.  Sophomore teammates and runners of many miles together with many more to come over the next two years.

JP, Jack Wallace, and Gabe Guillamondegui.  MBA was the only school with three runners in the top 10 at the state championship meet.  Jack (3), JP (6), and Gabe (9).  

The End of the Line

For the Dodgers' first practice, Jim White and I held court by the old backstop at Sevier Park.  I brought plastic bases.  JP and several other 4 and 5 year olds learned how to run to first base.  Although those boys didn't wear Dodgers jersey until the next season - we were the Red Sox - they marked the beginning of the Dodgers and started a run of WNSL baseball that would last for 12 years.

Yesterday, the curtain fell on the best 12 years of my life, as Joe's Dodgers split a doubleheader against the Moonshots on field 5 at Warner Park.  It was fitting, somehow, that ours were the only games begin played at Warner Park yesterday.  The concession stand was closed.  There were no other boys around. The parking lot was relatively empty.  No (cursed) flag football.  Just my guys - the WNSL Dodgers - and the Dom's Moonshots.

When I worked in minor league baseball for a couple of years after college, it occurred to me that nothing was more lonely, more forlorn, than Bill Meyer Stadium on the day after the Knoxville Blue Jays' season ended.  The players were gone.  The managers and coaches were packing up and saying goodbye.  All of the part-time staff from the spring and summer scattered into the offseason.  The stadium was empty as the early fall wind blew hot dog wrappers through the concourse.  

That's kind of what it felt like, to me, at Warner Park yesterday, because I knew it quite possibly was the end of the line for the Dodgers.  

It was fitting, too, that I coached game 1 - a surprising 14 - 6 win for the Dodgers - with JP.  He was on third and I was on first.  Spending so much time coaching with JP this fall has been beyond special to me.  To be on the baseball field with both of my sons, at the same time, is simply heaven on earth for me.  It really is.   

In game 2, Will Wright and Benton Wright arrived as JP left for the Predators' game.  Fitting, too, that I had one of my all time favorite players, Benton, coaching third base for me while Will ran the dugout and kept score on GameChanger, just as he has for what seems like one thousand games in the past. 

Will is my unsung assistant coaching hero, because running the dugout is no small task when the boys are young.  It's not easy to keep five and six year old boys - or even nine and 10 year old boys - focused on the game, ready to bat, etc.  It can be a thankless job and Will did it willingly and with so much love for as long as I coached.  In countless conversations outside the dugout over the years, during games, we talked about our boys, our parents, our work, our lives.  I treasure every one of those conversations.  

I'm not going to write too much about the games this morning, as I sit quietly outside Sump and sip my coffee.  

The Moonshots are good boys.  Older than us and a little cocky but that's okay.  It made it all the sweeter when we dough-popped them on game 1, particularly after they scored four runs on us in the bottom of the first inning.  The highlight of the game, by far, was Bennett Lusk pitching a complete game.  After the first inning, he figured out for maybe the first time ever that he didn't have to try to throw the ball by every hitter.  He didn't need to nibble, either, by trying to get strikes on the inside or outside corner.  He could just throw strikes, constantly, and let his fielders get guys out.  

That's exactly what he did, too.  As as result, he pitched a five inning complete game on a day when we were without two of our older, more experienced pitchers.  When Bennett asked me after the game how many pitches he had thrown, I told him "too many."  Still, I wanted him to have an opportunity to pitch a complete game because I thought it would give him confidence heading into the offseason and, later, spring baseball.  

Other than a couple of botched run downs, the boys played almost flawlessly in the field in game 1.  The outfielders caught several fly balls.  George and Paul hit the cutoff man perfectly a couple of times when balls were hit in the gap.  At second base, Ram threw a boy out trying to stretch a double into a triple after George hit him with a perfect cutoff.  We practice that, so it was gratifying to see the boys execute it in a game.  Ram also doubled a boy off first base after catching a pop fly headed to the outfield.  

George made a nice catch of a fly ball in right field, too, when he took a step back as the ball left the bat, located it, then comfortably took a few more steps back caught the ball over his right shoulder.  Again, first step back in the outfield, find the ball, adjust, catch it.  Just like we coach it.  I loved the play because George looked so comfortable making it. 

There weren't a lot of highlights in game 2 for the Dodgers.  The Moonshots played some of their older players, 14 year olds, and my 11 and 12 year olds weren't much of a match for them.  Their pitcher threw hard and we couldn't do much with him.  

Much to my surprise, Walker Hughey squared to bunt late in the game, having gotten the sign from Benton (coaching third base) because the third baseman was playing so far back.  A lefty, Walker laid down a perfect bunt that snaked down the third base line.  The pitcher make an outstanding play on the ball and threw Walker out by a couple of inches.  With almost any other pitcher, Walker beats that one out.  Just a tremendous effort on Walker's part to lay down a bunt against a pitcher throwing hard. 

The at bat of the day - maybe the season - came late in the game when Trey Glenn fouled off four or five two strike pitches , including a couple of curve balls, then laced a single into left center field.  It was our hardest hit ball of the day and it was against a legitimately good, hard throwing 14 year old pitcher.  I've had Trey as long as I've had any of the boys - since he was probably five years old - and he's one of my all time favorites, so seeing him have such a great at bat made me very, very proud.  

Trey's personality is infectious.  Always smiling.  Always happy to play baseball.  A great teammate and a great kid.

Game 2 never close and in the end, the Moonshots gonged the boys, and the game was stopped after the fourth inning because they were 10 + runs ahead of us.  Huck struggled a bit with his emotions but that's okay because he wants so badly to succeed.  Plus, he battled at catcher.  Huck also stole home on passed balls four times in two games and had no problem sliding, which was real progress for him from the beginning of the season.

Nico struggled and had a few mental lapses, which happens.  He was down after the game so I was glad I was driving him home with Joe and me in the Coach Phil Xpress.  We had some time to talk about the game and how important it is for him to play with confidence and not to be afraid to make a mistake.  

After the end of game 2, I the boys took a knee and gathered around me on the infield grass near first base.  I told them I was proud of them and that in those two games, we had seen a little bit of everything.  I reminded them of the lessons they had learned throughout the fall baseball season, on the practice field and during games.

I reminded them of the importance of competing, of persevering, of working hard, of failing and getting up to try again, of being good teammates, of never quitting and never giving up.  

The secret, I told them, is this - it's not about the baseball.  It's about life.  

It's never been about the baseball.  

Dodgers forever.

Coaching Joe's Dodgers with JP, this fall, has been one of my highlights of 12 years of coaching baseball.

The heart and soul of the Dodgers.  Back row (L-R):  Trey, George, Elias, Nico, Joe, Huck.  Front row

(L-R):  Paul, Walker, Bennett, and Ram.

Joe.  Always smiling on the baseball field. Always locked in.  Always enthusiastic.  Always a leader. 

Joe and Huck.  Huck is quite possibly the most enthusiastic, affectionate boy I've ever coached.

Three of the original Junior Dodgers.  Joe, Trey Glen, and Ram Chitale.  So may practice, so many game, so many memories.

The man that makes it all happen for WNSL baseball.  Roger Maness.

Roger Maness has put up with me for 12 years.  And, Roger, flag football is not a sport.

Dodgers forever.

USN Sixth Grade Soccer

It starting brewing last year, when Joe's fifth grade classmates took over the sixth grade soccer team late in the season and won the HVAC Div. II tournament at Franklin Road Academy.  For maybe the only time in the decade one or both of my boys have a attended University School Nashville, a coach recognized the importance of winning, in terms of morale and school pride, and played the best players.  In other words, they played to win, which is exceedingly rare at USN, at least in middle school sports.

Joe's class of boys - particularly his close friends - is different from others in the past at USN, including JP's.  More athletic.  More competitive.  More intense.  More physical.  More willing to mix it up with other teams.  All of the good things, in my mind.  These boys share traits that will help them succeed in life, long after their days on the athletic fields are over.  That's my guess, anyway.

I expected big things out of them on the soccer filed this fall, as sixth graders, and I haven't been disappointed.  USN is 4 - 0 on the season and, if memory serves, they only have give up two goals.  Joe is playing middle back on defense, rather than goalie, which is good for him and for the team.  It allows him time and space to work on his foot skills and his leadership is readily visible as he sets the defense, encourages his teammates, and moves the ball.  

Tuesday afternoon, in an away game at Ensworth, they dominated the second half and won 4 - 1, clinching a first round bye in the Div. I tournament at the end of the season.  It was a big win for the boys in large part because Ensworth is not a school that USN normally beats, in any sport.  It's refreshing for the boys - and their parents - to play a sport at a high level and defeat schools that place a much high emphasis on athletics.  Competing, and winning, breeds confidence and school pride.  It's contagious.  I saw it last year and I'm seeing it again this year.  

The Ensworth coach yelled at his players after the game, proof positive that he didn't anticipate or like losing to USN.  That made the win all the sweeter.  Then, after a tie in the B team game, he whined about something that happened in the handshake line.  

Joe and his teammates play with a bit of an edge.  They're a bit cocky and that's completely okay.  Not arrogant, mind you, but confident and a little cocky.  They're not going to get pushed around.  For several of these boys - not Joe - soccer is their main sport.  They've played it competitively at the travel level for years.  They've practiced, drilled, and played games all over middle Tennessee.  And it shows, now, as they play for their school.

Last year, it was interesting to hear Joe talk about how much fun it was playing soccer with his closest friends from school, boys he's been on the playground with every school day for the past 5 + years.  At lunch or during breaks, the boys got together and broke down the previous day's game.  He loved that.  Again, it's not often that a group of boys in middle school at USN are able to compete at a high level in a sport and experience success because too often the focus had been on participation, not competition.  

Sadly, because it's USN, it's very likely this group of boys will splinter when sixth grade is over and attend seventh grade at other private schools in the area.  This is what happened with JP's group and it's what will happen with Joe's group.  Why?  Because of a serious of broken promises from the USN administration over several years and a refusal to recognize that competitive sports can coexist at a school with a strong academic reputation.  That's a whole story in an of itself.

For now, though, I'm going to enjoy watching this group of sixth graders from USN compete on the soccer field the rest of the season.  Let's go!!