Extraordinary Stories

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Showing posts with label Wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wisdom. Show all posts

Saturday, June 10, 2017

The "17 Inches" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Just opened my email and there was a note from my childhood friend Bill who lived a few houses from me before having to move with his family to a nearby community during third grade.  We have kept in touch since then with short visits as well as notes, emails and chats on the phone.  His email today was titled "17 Inches".  I opened it and began reading it with much interest, since I am a big fan of baseball.  But, the story he sent to me is much more than about baseball ... it's about life.  Take a look at what he sent to me and see if you too don't agree.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Twenty years ago, in Nashville , Tennessee , during the first week of January, 1996, more than 4,000 baseball coaches descended upon the Opryland Hotel for the 52nd annual ABCA's convention.
 
While I waited in line to register with the hotel staff, I heard other more veteran coaches rumbling about the lineup of speakers scheduled to present during the weekend.  One name, in particular, kept resurfacing, always with the same sentiment — “John Scolinos is here? Oh, man, worth every penny of my airfare.”
 
Who is John Scolinos, I wondered.  No matter; I was just happy to be there.
 
In 1996, Coach Scolinos was 78 years old and five years retired from a college coaching career that began in 1948.  He shuffled to the stage to an impressive standing ovation, wearing dark polyester pants, a light blue shirt, and a string around his neck from which home plate hung — a full-sized, stark-white home plate.
 
Seriously, I wondered, who is this guy?
 
After speaking for twenty-five minutes, not once mentioning the prop hanging around his neck, Coach Scolinos appeared to notice the snickering among some of the coaches.  Even those who knew Coach Scolinos had to wonder exactly where he was going with this, or if he had simply forgotten about home plate since he’d gotten on stage.  Then, finally …

“You’re probably all wondering why I’m wearing home plate around my neck,” he said, his voice growing irascible.  I laughed along with the others, acknowledging the possibility.  “I may be old, but I’m not crazy.  The reason I stand before you today is to share with you baseball people what I’ve learned in my life, what I’ve learned about home plate in my 78 years.”

Several hands went up when Scolinos asked how many Little League coaches were in the room.  “Do you know how wide home plate is in Little League?”
 
After a pause, someone offered, “Seventeen inches?”, more of a question than answer.
 
“That’s right,” he said.  “How about in Babe Ruth’s day?  Any Babe Ruth coaches in the house?” Another long pause.
 
“Seventeen inches?” a guess from another reluctant coach.
“That’s right,” said Scolinos.  “Now, how many high school coaches do we have in the room?”  Hundreds of hands shot up, as the pattern began to appear.  “How wide is home plate in high school baseball?”
 
“Seventeen inches,” they said, sounding more confident.
 
“You’re right!” Scolinos barked.  “And you college coaches, how wide is home plate in college?”
 
“Seventeen inches!” we said, in unison.
 
“Any Minor League coaches here?  How wide is home plate in pro ball?”............“Seventeen inches!”

“RIGHT!  And in the Major Leagues, how wide home plate is in the Major Leagues?”
 
“Seventeen inches!”
 
“SEV-EN-TEEN INCHES!” he confirmed, his voice bellowing off the walls.  “And what do they do with a Big League pitcher who can’t throw the ball over seventeen inches?” 

Pause. 

“They send him to Pocatello !” he hollered, drawing raucous laughter.  “What they don’t do is this: they don’t say, ‘Ah, that’s okay, Jimmy  If you can’t hit a seventeen-inch target?  We’ll make it eighteen inches or nineteen inches.  We’ll make it twenty inches so you have a better chance of hitting it.  If you can’t hit that, let us know so we can make it wider still, say twenty-five inches.'”  
 
Pause. 

“Coaches… what do we do when your best player shows up late to practice? or when our team rules forbid facial hair and a guy shows up unshaven?  What if he gets caught drinking?  Do we hold him accountable?  Or do we change the rules to fit him?  Do we widen home plate? "
 
The chuckles gradually faded as four thousand coaches grew quiet, the fog lifting as the old coach’s message began to unfold.  He turned the plate toward himself and, using a Sharpie, began to draw something.  When he turned it toward the crowd, point up, a house was revealed, complete with a freshly drawn door and two windows.  “This is the problem in our homes today.  With our marriages, with the way we parent our kids.  With our discipline.

We don’t teach accountability to our kids, and there is no consequence for failing to meet standards.  We just widen the plate!”
 
Pause. 

Then, to the point at the top of the house he added a small American flag.  “This is the problem in our schools today.  The quality of our education is going downhill fast and teachers have been stripped of the tools they need to be successful, and to educate and discipline our young people.  We are allowing others to widen home plate!  Where is that getting us?”
 
Silence.  He replaced the flag with a Cross.  “And this is the problem in the Church, where powerful people in positions of authority have taken advantage of young children, only to have such an atrocity swept under the rug for years.  Our church leaders are widening home plate for themselves!  And we allow it.” “And the same is true with our government.  Our so called representatives make rules for us that don’t apply to themselves. They take bribes from lobbyists and foreign countries.  They no longer serve us.  And we allow them to widen home plate! We see our country falling into a dark abyss while we just watch.”
 
I was amazed.  At a baseball convention where I expected to learn something about curve balls and bunting and how to run better practices, I had learned something far more valuable.
From an old man with home plate strung around his neck, I had learned something about life, about myself, about my own weaknesses and about my responsibilities as a leader.  I had to hold myself and others accountable to that which I knew to be right, lest our families, our faith, and our society continue down an undesirable path.
 
“If I am lucky,” Coach Scolinos concluded, “you will remember one thing from this old coach today.  It is this: "If we fail to hold ourselves to a higher standard, a standard of what we know to be right; if we fail to hold our spouses and our children to the same standards, if we are unwilling or unable to provide a consequence when they do not meet the standard; and if our schools & churches & our government fail to hold themselves accountable to those they serve, there is but one thing to look forward to …”
 

With that, he held home plate in front of his chest, turned it around, and revealed its dark black backside, “…We have dark days ahead!.”
 
Note: Coach Scolinos died in 2009 at the age of 91, but not before touching the lives of hundreds of players and coaches, including mine.  Meeting him at my first ABCA convention kept me returning year after year, looking for similar wisdom and inspiration from other coaches.  He is the best clinic speaker the ABCA has ever known because he was so much more than a baseball coach.  His message was clear: “Coaches, keep your players—no matter how good they are—your own children, your churches, your government, and most of all, keep yourself at seventeen inches."

 "Don't widen the plate." 

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

The "Merits Of A Long Vacation" Story

It was an ordinary day.  And ... I know after reading my story today you'll have no sympathy for me.  But, I thought after telling you about other cultures and the length of their vacations, or "Holidays" as they are known in other areas of the world, you might be more sympathetic.  Seems that vacations of two to five years were common for those who lived in ancient Rome.  Centuries later, wealthy Europeans spent months visiting spas.  So, what's the big deal if my wife and I decide to take a vacation for ... lets say ... a month!  Years ago we vacationed for a week when Carol was only permitted that length of time by her boss.  
Enjoyed vacations along the Chesapeake Bay in small cottages where we could relax and unwind without having to drive or fly for any length of time.  If you are traveling miles and miles to reach your vacation destination, either by car or plane or ... perhaps even horse and buggy as is the custom in our home town of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, it may take a day or two to shake off the travel fatigue so you can hustle through the rest of your vacation itinerary before you hop back in the car, plane or buggy to get back home.  So, when Carol and I began our family, we were able to add an extra day or two, or even an extra week to our summer vacations along the Chesapeake Bay.  Times were tough with one salary, a teacher' salary to boot, but we found places to stay that were inexpensive.  It actually began to feel like vacation, with time to unwind and plenty of time to actually enjoy your time away from the grind of work with the entire family.  
Then the family grew up, left home, retirement arrived and we found we were able to add a few more days onto our vacation.  We now had more time and a few extra dollars to spend on vacation.  Reasoned that if we were finally able to fly to a spot in the sun along a beautiful beach, we need to go for at least 10 days or two weeks or we would be wasting the money we paid for the airline ticket.  Well, two weeks turned into two and a half weeks and to make up the difference in days, we opted to settle for a less expensive place to stay.  Then, last year we found a very nice place in paradise for less and decided to stay for three weeks.  Felt guilty at first that others didn't have the same chance that we did, but that quickly faded away.  Halfway through vacation we wondered if we had made a mistake with staying three weeks, but at day 18 or so we looked at each other and wondered if we could add another few days to the trip.  
Being able to do absolutely nothing except sit in a beach chair on a beautiful white sand beach in the Caribbean with a book in one hand and a drink in the other seemed to relax the soul more each day.  Started to feel we actually deserved our vacation for all the years of hard work.  Well, we have already made our reservation for next spring for three weeks once again.  Then, the other day Carol said, "You know, since next year we will be married 50 years, I think maybe we should finally add that extra week!"  Didn't take long before I placed an email to the realtor whom we rent our villa from in paradise.  Not finalized yet, but the merits of a long vacation totally outweigh the negatives.  Here's hoping that someday you too will be able to experience the merits of a long vacation, or holiday.  Those merits seem to be growing the older we become.   And, we have decided now is the time before it is too late!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.     

Sunday, February 19, 2017

The "Too Old To Be Young!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an online article telling me that 60 is the new 40!  Well, I'm telling you I'm past 40, way past, as well as quite a bit past 60, and I can assure you that 60 certainly isn't the new 40.  I can slightly remember what it was like to be 40, both physically and mentally, and when I reached 60 I certainly didn't have the same physical or mental presence that I did when I was 40. Nah, I take that back since my mental capacity is much better now that I'm way past 60.  Just ask anyone who knows me.  As far as my physical capacity is concerned, I can't run the base paths as fast during softball games and couldn't throw the ball as hard as when I was 40.  Matter of fact, I didn't even think of playing softball when I reached 60 and when I do throw the ball, as when a ball is hit to be during my grandson's baseball games where I sit in the nearby bleachers, I throw it underhand.  Too many chances of tearing muscle tissue in my shoulder to try throwing overhand.  And, now that I'm nearing my mid-70s, I hand the ball to someone near me to throw it back onto the field.  When I was 40 I never even thought what it would be like when I was 60 or 70.  I guess that proves that I am gaining wisdom since I know what my strengths and weaknesses may be.  I still do things that I did back in my 40s such as quickly jog across the street if needed to avoid traffic, put my 40 foot extension ladder against the house so I can climb it and paint, lift 40 pound cases of paper while doing the in-house printing chores at the high school where I taught and drive fast like I used to; even at night!  I now have one bum foot due to shingles, scars all over my body from stuff being cut out of me from being out in the sun too much, a finger that bends in an unusual manner due to getting it stuck in the printing press over 40 years ago, ears that don't hear as well as they used to (even with hearing aides), and eyes that have these little things that float from top to bottom each time I close and open them.  
A very relaxed and older LDub contemplating the subject of age;
of course, with more wrinkles!  Photo by granddaughter Camille.
I have bones that make funny crunching noises when I move certain directions, funny noises that emanate from my stomach and other parts of my body on a frequent schedule, no need to go to the barber anymore and teeth that should have been fixed when I was a kid, but parents that couldn't afford that.  But hey ... I can still beat many younger than me at guessing the right prices on The Price is Right, knowing the questions on Jeopardy and guessing the puzzles on Wheel of Fortune.  And, Vanna was turning the letters when I was 40!  I can still run the vacuum, wash the floor on my hands and knees, do the dishes, clean the bathroom, do the windows inside and out, mow the grass, wash the car and shovel the driveway and walk.  I can still sing most of the songs from the era when songs actually had words you could understand; that is if da doo run run is language you can understand.  I can still shake, rattle and roll, literally.  But, I still have trouble with the hand jive, just as I always did.  And, I still think I'm pretty hip since I like shows such as The Big Bang Theory, Modern Family, Life In Pieces, American Pickers and Dating Naked.  But none of them will ever top the reruns of Seinfeld.  Come to think of it I did watch Seinfeld when I was in my 40s.  I still look at life as a glass half full and still love smelling the roses and the variety of plants and flowers my wife raises in our lovely garden.  When it comes to love, I have the comfort of knowing I found the right one almost 50 years ago, but I knew that when I was 40; actually when I was 22. And spiritually, I talk to God through prayer as often as I can; that's what keeps me going right now.  You know, with all that's going on it the world today, I at times wouldn't want to be 40 again.  I'm worried what's going to happen in the next 4 years. Worried for my children and grandchildren. But you know, as Jack Benny once said (even thought I never heard him say it), "Age is strictly a case of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."  That and the fact that I am really only 22 years old ... in Celsius.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.