What I Learned From My High School Football Coach

There are times in life when it is good to step back and figure out where you are, how you've gotten there and what you've learned along the way. The past few weeks have been one of those times for me. Upon reflecting on lessons learned the wisdom of my high school football coach, John Deti, kept coming to mind. There are two types of teachers in the world: those whose advice and lessons go in one ear and out the other and those whose words stick with you your entire life. Coach Deti fell into the latter category. It was not the way he spoke or his method of delivery, it was the simplicity of his words and the integrity of the man speaking the words. As his players, we trusted him. These are the lessons he taught us:

1) It's simple, but it's not easy - When you break down a play in football into its most basic parts its really not rocket science. The ball is snapped, the line blocks, the running backs either take the ball and run towards a point in space or block, receivers run routes and the quarterback just gets the ball to where it needs to go. Yet, something happens in the midst of all this: 11 guys on the other side of the ball do their best to ruin all of your plans. The thing about plans is that they're made in a static environment, reality is dynamic, constantly changing. Every decision and move you make has unintended consequences that cannot be conceived beforehand. Life in many ways is a series of plays. Businesses, governments, scientists, etc. all design their own "plays" that seem simple in theory, but then competitors slash prices, Israel bombs Iran, and a new scientific property is discovered...your plans are left in a smoldering heap on the floor. Coach Deti knew that plans are the easy part, actual execution is where the real money is made.

2) It's the little things that matter - Coach Deti was well ahead of Malcolm Gladwell in understanding that the little things in life can make the biggest difference. Drill after drill, practice after practice, this message was ingrained in the mind of every Plainsmen football player. "If you take care of the little things, the big things will take care of themselves," he would remind us as we ran the same play for the 26th time in a row. Everyone wants to score a touchdown, but few people are willing to work out the details required to make it happen. Making a great block just doesn't have the same glamor as catching a pass in the end zone, but the one simply cannot happen with out the other. In life, big dreams are a dime a dozen, but rare is the person who has the discipline and patience to grind it out each day doing the little things well over a long period of time.

3) Nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems - Out of all the sage words spoken by Coach, these have echoed in my mind the most as I've walked through life. We all know those people whose everyday is either the best or worst day of their life. If you do not know anyone like this, its probably you. These people annoy me. Humans are incredibly susceptible to hype, we all fall for it. The car that doesn't quite drive like you imagined it would after watching the commercial; the life-changing promotion that soon turns into nothing more than extra meetings and longer hours.

Going through 4 years at a military academy was one of these, "nothing is ever..." experiences for me. Admittedly, I was nervous going into it, none of my immediate family had been in the military so most of my information was from people who had a friend of a friend whose Uncle Jim went through in '68. "Best four years of my life!" I would hear. "Hardest thing I've ever done!" "I heard they cane the freshmen each morning before breakfast." Well, I made it through the four years. Was it hard? Yes. Was it the best four years of my life? Yes, but for entirely different reasons then I had been expecting. All this to say, our expectations often greatly exaggerate reality so do not rely to heavily on them.

4) Never pass up a free meal - Of all the words spoken by Coach, none seemed so insignificant at the time and made so much sense later. "Never pass up a free meal," he would say to us before an athletic banquet or school function. It was his way of getting a group of rowdy high school boys to go sit through a meal for a few hours with a bunch of adults. I really don't know anyone that enjoys that slice of American high school culture called the, "athletic banquet." Dressing up to go sit on uncomfortable school cafeteria chairs in order to listen to a dozen coaches explain why even though they went 1-10 this year their team was, "a special group of kids." All of this while eating lasagna and jello salad (pot luck favorites) and waiting for your turn, when your coach would call you up and hand you your certificate, shaking your hand and turning toward the crowd for the quick parental photo-op. At times it all seems ridiculous, but the spirit behind the event is what makes it good.

It is often said that nothing in life is free. This is true for the most part, but sometimes people just want to bless you. These opportunities are rare and should not be dismissed too quickly. There is nothing as tacky as when people try to honor someone and they don't show up or are ungrateful. I admit, I didn't like athletic banquets, but I was always thankful for the people that put the time and effort into honoring our hard work. One of the keys to succeeding in life is understanding when to go with the flow, sometimes this means humbling yourself and not passing up the free meal.

5) Things will go wrong, expect it and move on - Before the start of every game the team would gather around Coach Deti in the locker room as he talked to us. I hesitate to call it a pep-talk because it was something different. He focused us in on where we were and what we were doing. One thing he always told us was that during the course of the game things were going to go wrong. Not exactly what you'd expect a coach to tell his team to motivate them, yet I remember the pressure that those words took off our shoulders as players. It freed us up to play the game to win rather than play not to lose. He didn't expect perfection, he expected his team to play each down to the best of our ability, picking ourselves up and moving on after a mistake.

At the time, I had no idea how true these words would ring out in my personal life. In the Spring of 2003 my mother passed away from cancer. I was finishing my freshman year at the Air Force Academy and came back to Laramie for several days to be with family, friends and attend the funeral. It was decided that Coach Deti would speak at the funeral. You see, John Deti was not only my high school football coach, he is also my godfather. The days surrounding that event seem like a blur when I think back now, except for a few distinct moments. At the funeral, as Coach stood behind the podium to speak, everyone was silent. "Julie was a friend of mine," he paused. It was the first time I'd seen this great man visibly shaken, the ripple effect was tremendous. He went on, but to me he had already said everything that needed to be said. Things do indeed go wrong, knowing this doesn't make the "wrongness" any easier, but it frees you up to play the game, to win rather than not to lose. And that is the only way to really live.

A Schaefer Thanksgiving 2007

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I love it! Family, friends, food, naps, food, football, parades....it is second only to Christmas in my mind. For my wife and I this Thanksgiving will be one of many "firsts." The first Thanksgiving apart from our immediate family, the first Thanksgiving in our own house, the first Thanksgiving with our friends James and Sara and the first Thanksgiving in Enid, OK. It will also be a day of "lasts." The last Thanksgiving in Enid, OK (no offense, Enid is a nice place, but this "last" doesn't cause me too many tears) and most importantly the last Thanksgiving without a kids table. We'll be having a baby girl in January.

There is a special connection in my mind between holidays and family, it has always been there, but with my first child on the way it has transformed a bit. The prospect of being the head of my own family takes things down a new road. My heart really grows when I picture future holidays with MY family. Our kid(s) sitting around the table laughing, taking after their father and not eating any vegetables. Marelize busy being the super-chef that she is. And someday, our kids and their spouses and MY grandchildren all together. In a sense, the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving. Even the thought of being able to sit at the head of such an incredible imaginary family brings great pride.

I realize that the Rockwell Thanksgiving is an ideal, some may say unrealistic one at that, but to me it represents the best of America and what makes family so unlike any other relationship we experience. It also represents something we should preserve. As I go through life I have noticed time and time again that the family unit is completely unique and indispensable in its ability to produce happy, successful people. When the family unit suffers, the ripple effects are incredible. Family done well is important. To me the Rockwell Thanksgiving is saying one thing, family is good! They may fight, bicker, frustrate you incredibly, but family is good and always worth fighting for. Happy Thanksgiving from the Schaefer's!

Quote of the Day: Jim Elliott

"Wherever you are, be all there." - Jim Elliott (October 8, 1927 – January 8, 1956)

Its easy to live for tomorrow, thinking about getting home when you're at work, dreaming of the weekend on Tuesday, wishing the vacation next month would be here today. The problem is when you constantly live in the future you tend to miss the opportunities in the present. Not to say we shouldn't plan ahead, but planning for the future is different than camping there. People can tell when you're listening to what they say so you can give your piece and move on and when you're listening to hear what they have to say. The people who inspire the most confidence, the most loyalty, are those who have a vision for the future, but live fully and completely each day of their lives in the present.

Hell Hath No Fury: Strange Motivations for Runners

As some of you may know I began training for a marathon almost two months ago. The process has been very rewarding so far; I feel great, more energy, more relaxed, and with each run its easier and easier to get into a rhythm. Sundays are my long run days with Tuesdays and Thursdays as my short run days (Tuesdays sometimes become imaginary running days). Since I didn't get my long run in yesterday I had to do it tonight...it was by far the best run I've had and by far the most motivated I have been to push my limits...my motivation, fear of my wife.

The run started off as it usually does, changing into my running shorts and shoes, charging my iPod, fine tuning my playlist, out the door, iPod on, earphones in...and off down the asphalt path to glory. The only exception, I started a bit late...as the sun was starting to go down. Last Sunday I had run 6 miles so my initial plan was to get at least 6 and 7 if I felt good.

Sure enough, about 3 miles in I was feeling it. The Killers, "When You Were Young" was jamming through my headphones and I felt light so I decided to take a detour and add an extra mile. The sun was going down about this time...the headlights were becoming more intense creating my own little version of Coldplay's "Fix You" music video. I completed the detour and popped back out onto my familiar route. By this time I was about halfway through my run, at the furthest point geographically from my house. Suddenly, it hit me, my wife and I had scheduled dinner with friends....at 7pm....it had to be about 6:30 or 6:45....CRAP!!!

I scrambled to remember when I had left the house...I remembered looking at the clock in the kitchen just before I stepped out the door and I was nearly certain it was around 6 when I left. I was doing mental calculations trying to determine my distance covered, average mile time, etc. My pace became much faster. This wasn't the first time in the past few weeks something like this had slipped my mind. Marelize had been incredibly patient, but I knew this wasn't going to be fun...she had told me just before I stepped out the door not to go on a long run...at the time I thought she just didn't want me running in the dark, now it made a bit more sense.

Mile 5: Pitch black, headlights racing by much too close on the narrow country road, sweating, windy...then the little devil hopped up on my shoulder. What was I going to say about this. I could see her now...her stance, her eyes...the look of disappointment. It was unbearable. For a normal woman it may not have been so bad, but my wife had a little extra bargaining chip on the table, she's currently 8 months pregnant. Thus, the excuses began to flow like wicked poetry. I stopped to help an old lady with car troubles, a pack of wild dogs chased me into an alley where I had to fend them off with a stick, I twisted my ankle and had to walk home....

Mile 6: At this point I was nearing a dead-out sprint. I'd almost settled on one of those quasi-truths, "I took a wrong turn." In fact I had...the turn where I kept going further away from home at mile 3 instead of turning back around. I could feel my heart pounding through my sternum and could hear my breathing muffled over the sound of my music....Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Going Down," how appropriate. I began praying that God would give my wife a spirit of mercy and forgiveness.

Finally, after what seemed like 2 hours at a 6:30-mile pace I made it home. I had skipped my usual 1/2 mile cooldown walk and ran straight into the garage, preparing myself to look as exhausted and flustered as possible (this wasn't all to hard to act out). Bursting through the door I glanced at the clock....6:20! Are you serious!?! I didn't get it...evidently I had left about 5:30 instead of 6. Marelize cracked up as I explained the story to her. The rest of the night went well and I looked back at the incident thinking only one thing...it was the best run of my life. I'm a firm believer that physical training is 90% mental, the body will do almost anything the mind wants, the trick is finding the right motivation.

Saturday Morning Musings

Saturday mornings are my favorite time of the week. You get to sleep in (no later than 9 of course because you don't want to waste the whole day! A point that Marelize and I heatedly debate, haha.) There's also the fact that Monday isn't looming like an oncoming storm which seems to make Sunday the lesser of the weekend days for me. I do wonder sometimes if my anxiety over Mondays is due to my hectic occupation (pilot training) at the moment or if it's habit or what. I don't think it's right to live our lives in fear of the Monday's, yet I can't seem to shake the feeling as of late. My hope is that when I finish pilot training I will be able to look to Monday with good feelings or at least ambivalence rather than dread.

On another note, Marelize and I discovered a band last night on iTunes that we both enjoy very much, the Rocket Summer. They are the epitome of Pop Punk...a genre I appreciate like a secret addiction...something not to be brought up except in the company of closest friends. Nonetheless their songs are fun, I know that sounds corny, but I can't think of a better way to describe it....

Marelize and I have decided that Malone is most likely what we will name our baby daughter due in January. Its funny the different reactions you get depending on the crowd you're running in. Most of our Colorado Springs see the cool genius of it...classic, but others here in the midwest give us a cocked head expression with a kind of "ohhh, I've never thought of that." Its true, its a name normally associated with a last name....or a male....or famous Utah Jazz player Karl Malone of the Stockton-Malone dream connection (I refuse to recognize his association with the Hollywood Circus called the Lakers), but we like it...so we will call our child Malone.

I have just been informed by my wife that my cell phone is MIA, so this will be all for today

Bourne Ultimatum...YES

I saw the Bourne Ultimatum last weekend in Edmond with the wife and our friends Catherine and Gordon White....it was my favorite movie of the year thus far! Out of the three it had by far the best car chase, best fight scene, and most suspense, incredible all the way around. Go see it!

86th Time's a Charm!

I've always been the type of person that believes in keeping a journal. There's something very romantic about it, the idea that one can narrate his life through the years and at the end of the day have a nice little...uh...narrative. I recently added "The Reagan Diaries" to my wish list on Amazon.com; it seems like we have quite a fascination with people's diaries...MTV had a show for a while called Diary, I'm not sure if its still on...I remember it started with a line saying, "You may think you know, but you have no idea." Very mysterious indeed. Of course my boyhood hero Doogie Howser M.D. kept a diary on his personal computer...very avant-garde at the time. As a young person I remember the fascination with reading other people's diaries to find out who they liked, brothers would steal their big sister's diaries to use as bargaining chips during intense conflicts...I didn't grow up with any brothers or sisters, but this is what Hollywood taught me.

ANYway, I still have a fascination with the idea of recording everyday life....thus, the blog. I have journaled off and on for much of my life....I go in streaks normally of about a month or two with year long gaps in between. Then, once I come back to the journal I always regret not journaling in so long and attempt an extensive multi-page summary of all the events missed during my time off...sometimes its fun, other times pure torture.

This blog will not replace my journal (that's private of course...I wonder if Reagen knew his "private" diary would one day be on the NY Times Bestseller list), but I am excited at the idea of having a medium to think out loud and let some of my friends see and think aloud with me. Ideas aren't much fun unless you can discuss them among friends.