Ready to Move On....I think.

The Last Ride- Please notice the ring on his right hand.  

I am sorry to bore you guys with this stuff again, but this is the anniversary of my Dad's death, and I am up here in Hazard, KY for some reason.  I really don't know why.  I just felt compelled to be with my Dad where I tossed his ashes into the deep cold waters of Carr Fork Lake one long year ago.  Is there a reason I am here?  I guess I will find out tomorrow before heading into Louisville.  Something happened to me yesterday that I cannot explain.  I just do not know.

See the ring on my Dad's right hand?  This is an ARMY Ring that he has worn for over 57 years.  It is engraved with: United States ARMY- 7th ARMY and the insignia on the side.  Of course it is well worn over the years, and the writing is barely visible in some areas.  I would imagine it is made from White-Gold or perhaps Pure Silver to last so long.  I have no idea what the red stone is or what it is supposed to represent...if anything.  I just know that Dad did not take off this ring in about 57 years...

My Son Mike- Look at his right hand.  

Many of you know that my son Michael is home from Afghanistan (he was stationed in Germany) and living near Ft. Stewart, Georgia.  I have not seen him in about two years.  Mike was deployed when Dad died, so he was not able to come home to be with his Poppo...they were very close.  Yesterday, I drove up to Ft. Stewart and visited my son and his new wife.  We unloaded my truck with various items from the family, and I finally sat down with my big boy on his living room couch. Then, I gave him one final surprise.  I opened up a ring box and showed him Poppo's ring.  I gifted this ring to my son.  Here is where it turned........lets say different.  

 Fit like it was made for him.   

I have to say something.  I do not believe in spirits.  I do not believe in the afterlife.  I do not believe in fortune tellers  or any of that stuff.  Ouija Boards freak me out.  However, I know what I saw...plain as day.  

Michael opened the box and slipped the ring on his right hand where his Poppo always wore it.  The ring fit like it was made especially for him.  Mike leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.  He put his hand on his knee like I have seen my Dad do thousands of times. I looked up at my son (still dressed in his Army ACUs)  and I about fell off the couch.  There sat my father...or what I imagined he looked like 57 years ago.  He was smiling at me..plain as day.  I literally closed my eyes and refocused on what I THOUGHT I was looking at...and Michael sitting there once again.  My eyes teared up as I looked at my son... Mike said: "Are you OK?"  I said: "yeah, I am fine."

 Truthfully I was a little rocked.  People who know me understand that this kind of stuff freaks me out.  I actually (jokingly) told both my Mom and My Dad  not to come visit me in the afterlife.  "Don't come floating around my room I used to say"  Mom and Dad both roared with laughter when I said that, and knowing my Old Man, he would do it just to see my reaction. I get this sense -of-humor from my Dad.  He used to tell my Grandma that he was going to spit in her eye while she was laying in the casket.   Of course he never did it, but we both had a nice little laugh during her funeral, 

I have no idea what to think.  I just know that I was flooded with pride and happiness at that moment.  I knew the ring went to the right person.  I think I am ready to let all this go now.  I think dad was telling me to move on...it's time.   Afterall, I can just look at my son when I want to see the old man for now on.  

My Dads Flag Flying in Afghanistan.  

 I will let you know if something weird happens tomorrow....at the lake.

GZ

The Ranky Dank

You know the worst part about my old man no longer being around?  I don't have anyone to talk with anymore.  I used to speak with my Dad at least 3-4 times every week....just to bounce things off of him. I used to get his opinion on just about everything I was involved with at the time.  Truthfully, most times I already knew what he was going to tell me, but I loved to get his mind working on different projects.  Its funny, but he could tell me about the smallest details of a football play he ran 40 years ago, but he had trouble remembering something that happened the day before.   Still, I loved to pick his brain about the history of our family, and I loved telling him about how I had reconnected with family (in Germany) over the past few years. Most of you know that my Dad was a football coach himself, so naturally I  loved to ask him about football offensive plays, and defensive schemes he used to run years ago.  I enjoyed putting a dry erase board in his hands (he called it a grease pencil) and have his draw up everything he had stored in his mind.  To me, my Dad was a walking and talking encyclopedia of knowledge, and I soaked-up as much of it as I could over the past few years.  I regret that I did not always appreciate the knowledge my Dad was trying to pass on to me.  Like a lot of younger people, I did not take the old man too seriously at times, and I was guilty of taking my Dad somewhat for granted in my younger (and selfish) days.  But, the older I got, the more I appreciated his wisdom.  I am proud that I opened up my heart to soak in much of what dad had stored in his mind.  Without this blessing, a lot of this information would have died with him.

Obviously, I had a lot of love and admiration for my Dad.  Unfortunately, after he moved back home to Kentucky, I could not always spend a lot of time with him....especially during football season.  Dad knew that football was my passion, and he wanted to hear the stories about our adventures on and off the field.  Fortunately, I had another mentor and father figure who I could lean on.  Over the past 20 years, I have spent countless hours coaching with this man, and spent even more hours just listening to and soaking in his wisdom.  Coach Bill Wilson needs to know how I feel about him, so I decided to write about our time together in this blog.  DANK, this is for you.

                                                                    Coach Bill Wilson  

I think every elementary aged student had to write a report on "Who I Admire the Most" at one time in his/her lifetime.  At my age, I should feel silly writing about who I admire at this point in my life, but this person needs to know how I feel about him.  This guy taught me more about being a father, a family man, and a football coach (over the past 20 years) than anybody else in my life.  Other than my own father and grandfather, Coach Bill Wilson has influenced me more than anyone else in my lifetime.  If you don't mind, I will be calling him "Dank" for the rest of this writing project.  Dank is considered a sports legend here in Florida.  I do not have enough time to write about all his accomplishments in this writing, but I am not writing about about his accomplishments (which speak for themselves.)  I am writing about Dank the man.

Even though he probably does not remember this, but I first met Dank about  28 years ago (when I was a young buck) and coaching down in Vero Beach. I had just been thrown out of the Vero Beach Recreation League for fist fighting with a referee after a football game.  I made a real ass of myself that night, and luckily Coach Billy Livings (Head Coach Vero Beach High School) met with me in his office about a week later.   Livings introduced me to Coach Wilson that day.  I am sure I did not make much of an impression.....I was a young and stupid coach who let his emotions get away from him....a decision I still regret to this very day. Coach Livings got me started with the Junior High program the following year.

In 1996, Randy Bethel took over as head coach at Sebastian River High School (SRHS)  and Dank came along with him as his assistant head coach.  I was offered a job on the staff at this same time, so this is when I truly got to know Coach Wilson.  Its funny, Dank and my Dad were just about the same age, and I think this is why I immediately gravitated toward him.  Everything Dank said reminded me of my Dad...and we used to compare notes on coaching styles.  The similarities were amazing.  To me, I was coaching with my old man every single day on the field.  I relished every minute of it.

I spent some time studying a particular style of offense called "The Wing T"  This old offense was very much like what we ran back in the day, so I had a really good grip on it when I started with Bethel at SRHS,  I had been to several coaching camps and clinics studying this misdirection offense and the intricacies involved in running it.  However, the KING of the WANG-T was already on our staff.  Its like I had my very own instructor or teacher every day at practice.  I can't tell you how much time we spent together just drawing up plays against difference defenses.  I would just sit back and watch  and listen to Dank talk..  I was a human sponge.  I would love to quiz him on different situations...and play calling strategies.  As long as I would listen, Dank would talk. Dank always asked me how my Dad used to run his teams, and he would listen to what was stored in my memory bank.

                                                   Dank during his Retirement Ceremony 

Dank Getting Award  

It did not matter what it was, I was going to do exactly as Dank suggested...without question, because we had already discussed it.   Some of my best lessons came from Dank (and Tony Brown) while were were folding team laundry and putting away equipment. I learned so much about the black community, and I opened my head to another way of viewing different situations.  Even during my younger days, I always took care of my kids....black or white.  It did not matter to me.  I loved my kids.  I think Dank realized that my love was genuine, and he sort of took me under his wing and taught me the life lessons I desperately wanted and needed from him.  These lessons on love molded me into the coach I am today.  I always called his lessons to me Dankism's

I am not sure how to write this next piece, so please try to follow along with me..

Coaches are sometimes accused of having favorites or playing favorites....this is just a way of life for a coach. Dank taught me a lesson about coaching every player the same way.

Sometimes....in some communities, everything is just perfect.  Both parents are in the house, and both parents have an income.  Kids are always fed breakfast before they go to school.  Kids always have lunch money, and there food in the house when they return home from practice.  The electricity is always on in the home, and the air conditioner is always making life bearable in the 95 degree heat of a Florida day.  Some players always have new athletic shoes and the finest in equipment available. For the most part, life is good....

On the other hand.....

Sometimes, a kids life is not so easy.  Sometimes there is only one parent in the house...sometimes there is no parent in the house at all.  Some kids go to school on an empty stomach...some kids do not eat lunch at all.  Some kids return to a dark and empty house after a full day of practice....eating is sometimes an afterthought.   Sometimes there is no electricity on in the house at all.  Sometimes the house is so hot that kids sleep outside or in a car...anywhere there is a breeze.  Some kids have athletic shoes that are taped together, or perhaps missing several of the screw-in cleats in the bottom.  For the most part, life at home just sucked.....

So, if a player missed a practice, or perhaps his attention span was lacking that day, Dank taught me to ask what was happening at the house.  Maybe there was a good reason for his actions...but you can't assume anything unless you ask a simple question:  "Is there anything I can help you with?" That simple question goes a long way.

Dankism   

 "Zaleuke, every kid is different.  Unless you know what is happening at the house, how can you coach all the kids the same? "

Often young coaches will complain about having to repeat the same instructions over and over. It is aggravating, but Dank  taught me an early lesson. I was taught that every player learns differently, and a good coach will learn what works for each kid.

Dankism  

1.  Some kids learn on the (Chaulk) board. You have to draw it up for him. 
2.  Some kids learn by seeing it.  They have to see someone do it before they understand it.
3.  Some kids learn by doing it.

"Chalk it, talk it, and walk it"

The lessons that Dank taught me were not always about football.  Sometimes the lessons were about being a man and doing the right thing.  Over the years I raised both my kids around the SRHS football field, so the coaches became uncles to them. I remember when my daughter Kristin was going to get married.  She was going to marry our former Quarterback from a few years before.  I was not happy about it at all.  Kristin was fresh out of Vanderbilt with a Master's degree. At the time she had thoughts of attending Law School. I thought she had her whole life in front of her.  Why get married now?  I thought she should get on with her career.  I made a decision not to attend the wedding in protest.  Dank quickly intervened and gave me the look of disappointment.

"Hey Man, thats not what you do.  Its not your decision.  You need to go the the wedding."  Then he punched me in the chest.  I went to the wedding.

Dank also taught me a hard lesson about my own son.  Many of you know I was a single dad, and I raised my son pretty much by myself.  I was extremely hard on him on and off the field.  Mike did not have a very long leash if you know what I mean.  All of his coaches walked the hallways everyday, so Mike never really got away from football 24 hours a day.  I was extremely hard on him during practices and at games. Dank sensed this, and pulled me into the equipment room and busted my ass:

" Boy, you need to leave Mike alone...let him be.  Let us Coach him!  You UNDERSTAND me?  Do you UNDERSTAND me?"  he repeated.  I was scared and simply answered "Yes Sir"

Over the years I have mellowed on the field quite a bit...but I  still loved to listen to the lessons Dank was teaching.  By this time, Dank would come onto the field riding in his golf cart, and I would often assist him in our individual drills for the players.  It was always a thrill for me when Dank started teaching and coaching.  I would tell our young players to be quiet and listen to a walking and talking legend teach the game, because someday, they would tell their own grandchildren they once played for Coach Wilson.

I could go on and on writing about Dank the man, and about Dank the coach.   But, I have to end this somewhere.  Coach Wilson.  I appreciate everything you have done for me, and I appreciate the "Lessons in Life" you provided me over the years.  I love you Coach, and I truly consider you my other father.  Thanks Again.

GZ

Coaching Adjustments

VB QB Carter Stanley on a Draw play

Again, QB Stanley on a Draw 

 RB Spencer Chenoweth Fighting for yards. 

Patrick Bethel keeps getting better and better.  

Vero Beach (VB)  ripped Sebastian River (SRHS) 35-6 last Friday night.  The game was actually pretty close at halftime (14-6) but I knew the game was over...I could just feel it.  VB took the opening kickoff and marched right down the field on a series of QB Draw plays a couple of quick out passes.  Defensively, SRHS decided to play man-coverage on VB's spread offense...thinking they could match-up with VB athlete to athlete.  This left the entire center of the field open for the QB to run...and he ran and ran.  All VB had to do was put a helmet on the middle LB and QB Carter Stanley was out the gate.  A pass to MJ McGriff put VB ahead 7-0.  Then, SRHS answered.  First play from scrimmage was a quick slant to Cummings who took it 60 yards for the touchdown.  The extra point was no good.  7-6 VB.  

VB got another quick score on a deep pass to MJ McGriff, and this put the score at 14-6 going into the half.  Obviously, SRHS's game plan was to keep VB off the field offensively, and for the most part, it was successful.  SRHS's offensive is nothing special...just methodical...3 yards and a cloud of dust.  QB Pellitier seems to be a good kid with a decent arm.  He throws nice quick short patterns with some zip on the ball, but his deep ball could use some work..it tends to float a little.  A year in the weight room will help him this off-season.  Anyway, Pellitier kept the VB defense off-balance during the first half.  There were numerous off-sides call on VB; thus, these mistakes prolonged SRHS's offensive series.  The Sharks were not really moving the ball very well...the Indians were committing mental mistakes which resulted in first downs.  I think the Shark's QB Pellitier's cadence was throwing the Indian's timing off ...I could see Pellitier's head bob a little, and I could see his hands pull out from the center's butt every now and then.  I knew what was happening.  I will have a little more of this a little later in this blog.  

Anyway, VB made some great halftime adjustments, and they blew the game wide open quickly in the 2nd half.  Like I stated earlier, the entire center of the field was open, and the Indians took advantage of this. The wide receivers were running free, and VB scored quickly on every possession.  The final score was 35-6, but the score could have easily been much worse if VB was given more offensive possessions.  Hand it to SRHS though, I thought their game plan was very good....they just ran out of athletes. Patrick Bethel (Randy's boy) is sort of our (all the former coaches) adopted son on the field.  Pat had a good game, but he was being held on almost every play...or he was being chopped.  I just love watching his development on and off the field.  Great, great kid. 

I sat in the stands with Coach "Dank" Wilson.  Other than my own father, I have more respect for this old man than anyone else I can think of. Dank's wisdom is unmatched...he is just a walking, talking encyclopedia.  Literally, when Dank talks I simply shut-up and listen...much like I did with my own daddy.  True, we all watch over the old man, and we coddle him all we can...at least all he can stand.  I really love this guy.  

I am sorry my review of the game last Friday  between Vero Beach and Sebastian is a little late.  I had a busy weekend, and I just did not have time to write much.  Truthfully, I just could not come up with a decent topic...or at least one that I thought people may be interested in reading.  Then, I fired up my lawn mower....the memories started flowing, then suddenly I had something to write about.  I don't know why it works this way, but cutting grass, or working on my boat tends to bring my brain to a good place.  I started thinking about the game last Friday, and I started thing about the adjustments I would have made on the field. Naturally, I got to thinking about my Dad and when he used to coach.  I will never forget a major adjustment he made because of one special player.  After doing so, he may have changed football itself without knowing. I have heard from other coaches (all over the country) about a certain QB cadence which always gave opposing defenses fits.  Dad called it the "Sit" series.

Old School RubberMouth Piece 

Let me explain QB Cadence.  Generally speaking, a football  play call will sound something like this:  Trips Rt Open, RIP, 969 drag on two.  In a nutshell, the QB told everyone what to do, and everyone will start at the play at the same time.  He will call a cadence which sounds something like this: Down. Blue-18, Blue18...set...hut, hut, and then the play goes.  Every coach has his variations, but its all about the same. A smart QB will often vary his cadence, or maybe hit a particular section especially hard to draw a defense offside; thus, a five yard penalty is given. Peyton Manning is famous for this stuff.  He is the very best at confusing a defense and keeping them off-balance.  

Peyton Manning Barking  

When I played, we were having an issue with offensive penalties.  We kept jumping offside and no one could get it under control it seemed.  Also. it seemed like the defense would just tee-off on us, and it seemed like they always knew when we were going to snap the ball.  Drove my dad nut.  I will never forget how many wind sprints we ran as punishment for multiple penalties.  Then, it happened.  

Our QB Kevin Nichols wore braces.  Kevin had one of those mouth pieces like you see pictured above...just a round rubber plug you bit down on.  Kids with braces could not wear one of those clear plastic mouthpieces you boil in water to fit your teeth.  Unfortunately, it was difficult to speak or yell with those big rubber mouthpieces which were so common during that time. Kevin would bark his cadence, then right before he wanted the ball, he would reach to place the mouthpiece in his mouth and call for the ball.  Of course, the defenses quickly caught up to this....and we paid the price.  Also, when Dad and Coach Nichols (Kevin's Dad) made the adjustment, we had issues understanding what the hell he was saying, and what we could hear while he was under center.  

One night my dad and I were watch football (in the basement) on TV, and he had one of those mouthpieces in his mouth yelling QB cadence.  The word "SIT" came out nicely.  So, he decided we would work off the "Sit" series of cadence.  A QB call on 2 sounded like this:  "Ready...set...SIT- SIT"   It was beautiful.  Just when the defenses thought they had us figured out, we came out with this stuff and dominated once again.  Remember...NO ONE was doing this kind of stuff during that time...and it certainly made a difference for us.  Defenses hated it...and we played it up big time.  Kevin would mingle his S'sss and throw in a new wrinkle.  It was a lot of fun.  

Years later I attended a coaching clinic in St. Louis, Missouri.  One of the guest speakers was famed QB coach Jeff Trickey out of Wisconsin.  Jeff was talking about QB cadence, and how to use it as a weapon against the defense.  Imagine my surprise when he mentioned the "SIT" series and how to use it...and the story behind it.  Of course, I corrected him on a couple of small details, and told the story of how it was born out of an adjustment by a pissed-off coach.....my Dad.  

Later.  

Evaluating Players

I am enjoying watching the Little League World Series (LLWS) again this year.  I love watching these kids play their guts out just for the love of the game.  What I find striking is the difference in size between 12-13 year old boys. The size difference can range anywhere from 4'8" - 6'3" ...playing on the same team.  Of course, the bigger kids seem to dominate the smaller kids at this age, but does this size-difference domination transfer over to the gridiron?  Not necessarily.  

 "A Good Small Kid is Good, But A Good Big Player is Better"

....Coach Billy Livings (1986)  

I heard Coach Livings say this several times in fact.  But just because a kid is big, it does not mean he is going to be a good football player.  More often that not, a kid who grew faster than their piers were often physically throttled by their superiors at an early age...out of fear of hurting their friends.  These type of kids often were too big to play in their local football leagues (weight controlled leagues) so they often played baseball or soccer instead....if they played anything at all.  Often, the bigger kid just dominated their piers on physical strength alone.  That works just fine until the rest of the kids get a little older (12-13-14 years old) ; then, puberty kicks in.  Often, the big kid quits growing so fast, and the rest of the kids catch-up in size.  Sometimes, a big kid is just a big kid forever.  But that still does not make him an athlete.  

"I Bet You Can't Wait Until The Big Kid Plays Football"  

Personally, I don't get too excited about any kid until I see him walk or stand.  I have been looking at kids for over 30 years now, and my rules have not changed too much.  I know this sounds funny, but consider the following:  

Slew Footed 

If I see a kid standing, walking, or running with his feet placed like this like, I know we have a lot of work to do.  I like to look at his shoe laces.  If they are tied on the side of the shoe, this is because they are often too lazy (or unable) to bend over and properly tie them, so he bends one leg over the other and ties them on the side.  This type of kid is often flat-footed, and when he runs, you can hear him coming..clop,clop,clop clop etc.  Look at his shoes, they will often start wearing on the outside; yet the heels are almost perfect.  This is because there is little heel-to-toe walking or running in his life. These type of kids generally have their calves more elongated, naturally placed lower on the leg.  Their calves are rarely balled up or developed (at this age) because they have not been taught how to run....or they have not seen a weight room yet. However, these type of kids often have nice thick upper  leg development and potential for power.  If they spend some time in the weight room, and perhaps work with the track coaches, then there is some potential there.  These  kids are rarely skill position type kids; however, they do make good powerful interior lineman if they are willing to work at getting better.   

  Feet Pointed Straight 

If a player stands or walks with his feet straight, then that excites me.  (I once watched one of my former players ...Zach Finnegan...walk down the isle at Walmart when he was just a 8th grade puppy....perfect walk and perfect calves) This type of kid maybe has both feet pointed very slightly inward. Their shoe laces are always tied on top of the shoe...not off to the side.  I look at his calves...always high on the lower leg because of the way he walks...heel to toe)  When this type of kid runs, it is almost silent...heel to toe.  Often, their shoes are worn down on the heels, and the toes may have scuff marks.  When I meet this type of kid,  I like to throw something at him (It can be anything...a tennis ball, a crushed paper cup, wadded-up piece of paper, etc....)  and watch him catch the item.  Most times, he will snatch the projectile right out of the air....perfect!  Kids like this have fast-twitch muscles, so they tend to be pretty quick.  This type of kid was probably a good athlete from the beginning of his young life, so I looked at them for skill-positions offensively and defensively.

 My Grandson GRICE:  Hey, I'm just Saying!  

These are generally my rules-of-thumb I used during an initial evaluation.  Sometimes kids will change my mind on the field...but my rules are pretty close most of the time.  Tony Perry (a coaching colleague and Head Track Coach at SRHS) was great at initial evaluation of kids as well.  I loved comparing notes with him about certain kids, because they were generally dead-on-balls to mine.  Of course, Coach Wilson (Football and Track Legend) was the master at taking a project player and working him until he found a place the player could help us.  I was always awed (and humbled) by his vision.  I don't know everything...I just think I do.  

Later.  

Tragedy on the Field

William Shogran Jr.  

I would like to start by offering my condolences to the family of William Shogran Jr.  This 14 year old young man died unexpectedly on Wednesday, August 14th, 2014  while attending the Sebastian River High School (SRHS) Football  camp in Northern Florida.  Please keep his family in your thoughts.  

William died yesterday while attending the SRHS football camp at Ft. Blanding in Northern Florida.  I do not know this young man at all.  I do not know his family.  I really do not have any idea about the cause of death, nor do I have any idea about the circumstances surrounding his death.  Early reports state that the unbearable Florida heat and humidity contributed to his death....I don't know if this is true or not.  Here is a link to the story surrounding his death.  You can make your own judgment:  http://www.wptv.com/news/region-indian-river-county/sebastian/wiliam-shogran-jr-sebastian-river-high-school-football-player-dies-during-practice

Assuming the reports are correct, the player could have died from heat exhaustion or perhaps heat stroke. In my previous blog www.coach-george.blogspot.com   I talk extensively about the issues with heat and humidity, and I also talk about the prevention measures we take (as coaches) to help the players deal with the potentially deadly combination.  Hydration is the key, and hydration must start days (if not weeks) before practice ever starts.  Things sure have changed since I played ball.  

My Iced Down Water Coolers.....On the field....Everyday.  

Back in the day, we were lucky to have any type of water on the field at all....ever.  In fact, most times we did not.  Maybe...ocassionally, an old garden hose would be used if there was a water spigot around.  Bottled water did not exist back then, so it was drinking from a garden hose or nothing.   The old-school thinking was that denying a player water during practice would make us tougher during a game.  Coaches or trainers gave us salt tablets instead....and they were awful.  Salt seemed to be the answer for everything.  Gatorade did not exist back then, but I do remember some sort of sports drink being available during games....but it was loaded with added salt.  It was terrible, and to this very day I still can't stand any type of sports drink.  However, I still love garden-hose flavored water.  

I remember throwing up quite a bit back then...when it was hot.  We would throw up our liquid, suck on the salt tablets and keep playing.  Again, old-school thinking was that if you were throwing up, it meant you were fat and out-of-shape....so we kept running.  I remember that if one of us got hurt, the coaches or trainers would wrap our injuries in iced down towels to keep the swelling down.  The other players used to steal the injured-players iced-down towels and suck the water out of the fabric...which tasted great....sometimes like iodine, but great nonetheless.  Back then, our helmets did not have vent holes in the top, so we used to fill our helmets with water out of a hose (when available) and either drink the water, or throw it over our heads before practice.   We cramped like crazy...but mine was generally stomach cramps, not the leg cramps which plagued many players.  We never admitted cramping....it was a sign of weakness.  Never once did we associate cramping or vomiting to dehydration.  I think back on those days now, and its no wonder why so many of guys ( from my generation) have kidney problems, or perhaps cognitive issues.  Its no ones fault....It's just the way it was back then. It is quite different today.

                             

Fred and Wilma  

I BUILT these Battery-Powered Water Cows

Now days, a player is never denied water....ever.  We really have to monitor this for our players...especially with the advent of caffeine and ginseng in the energy drinks so popular today.  These drinks will actually dehydrate ones body, so regular water becomes so important.  Not soda.... not sports drinks....regular water.   We used to tell the kids to start hydrating on Monday for a game on Friday.  If you wait until game day to hydrate your body....its just too late.  During the summer, we used to tell the kids to drink at least a gallon of water a day...everyday.  Sweating is important, for this is how a body cools itself.  If a kid is not sweating, then you need to start worrying.  I love to see a kid drenched in sweat....then I know he is safe. Also, I tried to make sure a player was not wearing dark clothing under his pads.  A plain white tee shirt or Under Armour is perfect in my opinion.  You will stay cooler wearing WHITE....sorry, but its a fact.  These are just a few tricks to surviving in this hot box of Florida.  It was our job to educate the kids of this fact.  

 Coach Randy Bethel.  

Coach Bethel surrounded himself at SRHS  with people he could trust.  Randy put me in charge of water.  It was my job to make sure there was always water available for the players anytime we hit the field.  I took this job very seriously.  Anytime athletes were on the field, or on the track, I made sure there was always unlimited water available.  Me, Coach Wilson, and Coach Brown were adamant about the water...it was that important to us.  Bethel never had to worry...water was taken care of....always.  We never denied a player water....ever.  If he needed water, he got water.  We took our mandatory breaks during practice.  Our trainer Hilary made sure of it.  No arguments, no questions...we just did it.  True, sometimes players will try and hang out at the water cooler, but you can usually spot these guys.  A quick blast of the whistle usually cleared them out.  We also monitored a player's weight during two-a-day practices.  Each player would weigh in before every practice, and after every practice.  If they lost too much weight during the first practice, he would sit for the second practice.  Hilary posted a urine-color chart on each urinal in the locker room.  A dark colored urine is bad: a clear colored urine is good.  So, when a player pisses, he looks at his urine color and compares it to the posted chart.  Results are reported to Hilary.  Dark urine means dehydration.  Appropriate action is required.  Bottom line is that if Hilary said to sit a player....guess what?  He sits.  

Again, I have no idea what happened at the SRHS football camp.  If it was heat-related,  I am just sharing some of the preventative measures Coach Bethel's staff took to help prevent accidents like this.  Most parent do not realize how hard we worked to protect the kids.  Afterall, they were our babies as well.  

More to Come Soon!

"Coach" George Zaleuke  

Reflecting On A Long Season

I am sorry I have not posted in awhile.  This whole deal with my Dad dieing kind of took my energy away.  This has been an extremely long month .  However, all the time spent in the hospital, and on the road driving, gave me a lot of time to reflect on this past year.  The whole year was full of coincidences I still can't explain....maybe God does have a plan for me after all. 

 

For me, the whole year started last year about this time.  I got a phone call from Randy Bethel informing me that he had been let go by Sebastian River High School (SRHS) shortly after we posted am 8-3 record and won the district championship.  The dismissal made no sense whatsoever, but that is water under the bridge and I am not going to discuss it again right now.  However, I knew my life was about to change.  I knew I was not going to coach this year, and I consoled myself knowing I was going to spend the year with my dad, and I also knew I was going to see the babies quite a bit  this year.  Also, I planned to watch a lot more high school football this past year...which is a good thing. 

 

Spent Time with Kelsey, Kirby and Grice This Year



 

I turned down several early job offers this year stating I was going to spend time with my Pops. I never really considered coaching this season, but I still went into a deep depression during this time.  I just did not know what to do with my idle time at home.  Apparently my Facebook postings concerned some of my closest friends...and I apologize for that. Luckily some great high school friends came to my rescue and pulled me through when I needed it the most.  My fight continues, but at least I have a grip on it now, and I was ready to deal with my Dad's death recently. As a man, it is difficult talking (to anyone) about depression, because most people who knew me tried to blow it off by saying "Don't Be So Dramatic" or "Go To The Doctor"  or  "Start Coaching Then!" Anyone who has fought with Depression knows it is just not that easy.  I would argue that most depressed people don't even realize what is happening to themselves. I just knew I was in a  very dark place with no windows.  My life long friends knew I was in trouble and checked up on me constantly.  GO SPARTANS 

 

My oldest friend, Jan Neufelder kicked me in the ass and woke me up earlier this year.  I have known Jan for about 50 years now, and he knows me like no one else does.  Jan KNEW what was happening with me for some reason....and I can't explain that either.  I took our friendship for granted, and sort of dropped him from my radar.  I am deeply sorry for that.  When my chips were down, Jan stayed with me, grabbed my collar, and helped me out of the deep dark hole I was in.  I am forever indebted. 

 

Big Bull Dolphin Jan Neufelder Painted For Me.  Jan is a very talented artist, and his paintings are amazing to see.  Go visit his Gallery on Facebook  and see for yourself. 

 

========================================================

This blog was supposed to be about football, so lets get started. 

 

I promised Mason Wilborn, and Zach Finnegan I would go and watch them (SRHS)  play at least once this season.  The week following my dad's death, I watched them play against Palm Bay Heritage....well, at least I watched Mason play.  Finnegan broke his foot a couple of weeks earlier.  SRHS was obviously out-matched from the start.  Heritage beat them pretty good.  I felt sorry for the kids, but they kept fighting all game long.  I could see the relief on their face as they left the field....I know it has been a long year for most of them.  Looking back on it now, I think our old staff would have been competitive in their district.  Patrick Bethel would have stayed, and both Washington boys (Tyler and Terrell) probably would have stayed at SRHS as well.  With the coaching staff in place, the learning curve would have been negated.  We would have lost to Vero, FPC, and Heritage, but I think the other games were winnable.  I don't think a 7-3 or a 6-4 record would have been out of the question.  Oh well, the kids played their hearts out, and that is what counts. 

 

Mason Wilborn

Zach Finnegan 

 

I spent a lot of time with Vero Beach High School (VBHS) this season.  Their team was amazing this year, and it was fun watching all their athletes develop.  Randy Bethel's boy Patrick was especially fun to watch.  The young 10th grader was a dominate player even at his age, and he kept getting better and better the whole season....while being blocked by the biggest and best players in the state all year long.  Patrick is going to be better than his Daddy, and probably one of the best players ever to come out of VBHS.                           

Patrick Bethel 

 

Last night I watched Fort Pierce Central (FPC) get knocked out of the playoffs.  They were beaten 17-6 by a decent Tampa Plant team.  Last week, I watched FPC put away an overrated Manatee team from across the state.  All three teams were well matched, but the cream rises to the top at this point of the playoffs.  In my opinion, the 8A classification in Florida is not as strong as the 7A or even 6A classification this year.  None of the teams (I have seen) seem to be as dominate as they usually are.  FPC had a great year, and they should be proud of what they accomplished.   

 

Ft. Pierce Central  Cobras

 

Who is the best team I saw this year?  Truthfully? 

 

 

Duncan (SC) Byrnes High School 

 

Far and away the best team I saw this season.  This program just keeps reloading year after year.  The Rebels can spread it out, or they  can run the ball...choose your poison.  I saw them play a district game this season. They will play for their 10th State Championship next week in Columbia, SC. 

 

Well, I guess this blog entry will just about do it for this season.  The whole football year took many twists and turns I was not expecting obviously.  However, when I look back on it, everything fit nicely into place...and I still don't know why.  Now that the playoffs are about finished,  I am about ready to start looking for a coaching job next season.  My batteries are charged back up, and I am planning to attend several coaching clinics over the next few months.  Florida?  Tennessee?  Kentucky?  South Carolina?  I would like to get closer to home or get closer to the kids for sure. My grandson Grice is going to be a beast, and I would sure like to coach him.  I don't know, but I am ready to move on and start something new. 

 

Until next time! 

 

GZ

 

 

 



 

That Just About Does It, Don't It?

April 2013 

 

It's funny how things seem to work out.  Most of you guys know that when Coach Bethel was let go at Sebastian River High School, most of us (the assistant coaches) decided not to coach this year.....for various reasons.  I will not use this blog entry to re-hash the reasons we left.  Personally, I was offered a few different positions this season, but I wanted to spend time with my Dad more than ever this year.  I really can't say exactly why, but I knew deep down that I needed to take advantage of the opportunity.  Fact is that if I did coach this year, I would NOT have spent time with my Dad because of the responsibilities I had with my coaching duties.  And you know what?  Dad would have said: "Man, do your job and come see me after the season!"  I am at peace knowing I spent a lot of time with Pop this year....I have no regrets. 

 

 When Dad decided to die this month, he sure made it easy on me to do so.  The whole process was an amazing series of coincidences which I can't explain.  Is it a coincidence that Dad died the exact weekend I was in town?  Was it planned?  Why did Dad choose to speak about his death, and his exact wishes on my previous trip to Kentucky?  Did he know his death was coming?  Did he plan it?  Its just weird.  It's like he knew his exact day of death and when I was going to be in town.  The whole process happened so quickly, but it's like I had a pre-arranged detailed map of what I needed to do after his death in my head.  It went down so business like, and everything fell right into place....another coincidence which I can't explain.  Weird.  My daughter Kristin said she does not believe in coincidences, for many things are just meant to be. Maybe she is right. 

 

Over the past 14 years, the old Man and I have spent many, many hours just floating around on his boat, fishing, and talking about anything and everything.  We had no secrets between us.  Now, we did not always agree on everything, but what father and son always agree on everything?  None that I know of.  However, he was my Pops and I respected his words and advice.  Over the past few years, Dad made it clear of his SPECIFIC wishes after his death, and made me promise I would make it happen. 

 

After my Dad sold the family business in 1996, he went to work for S.C.I (Service Corporation International.)  SCI was/is  a huge company which owns a majority of funeral homes and cemetaries across the country and beyond.  Many of the "Privately Owned" neighborhood funeral homes in an area are probably owned by a large corporation like SCI, but they are still operating under a local name.  Anyway, being in the funeral business like he was, he was sort of jaded on the whole funeral process.  Naturally, Dad knew EXACTLY what he wanted done when he was gone. 

 

1.  Dad wanted direct cremation.  "Don't bury me" he used to say. 

2.  Dad wanted no services, none whatsoever.

3.  Dad said he did not "Give a Damn" about his ashes. 

4.  Please help Judy and make sure she is OK. 

 

It was made clear that Dad wanted me to have his pontoon boat.  However, I did not have any way of transporting it to Florida....he did not have a trailer.  The old girl spent her entire life in a covered boathouse in the water.  There was a time limit on getting the boat, because the entire boathouse rental was due in December.  It was Judy's wish to get the boat moved ASAP to prevent the $1200 yearly slip rental.  I went back to Florida and looked for a trailer.  This past week I found a decent used trailer which would do the trick nicely.  I put on a new set of bunks, and a new set of hubs, and decided to make a last minute trip to Kentucky on Friday afternoon....just to get the boat and leave.  I grabbed my dog Raleigh and left town.  Much to my surprise, I found out Judy was coming back to the house for a couple of days to run some errands, and pick up my Dad's ashes etc...  She has no idea I was coming back either. Another coincidence?  Again it's weird. 

 

Kelsey In My Truck  7am.

 

I drove to South Carolina, dropped off my dog,  and picked up my Granddaughter Kelsey (the love of my life.)  I invited her to go with me to Kentucky and visit Granny Judy.  Together we drove the five hours to Vicco, Kentucky.  I started breaking down the boat and preparing it for transport.  I really had to un-do everything I had done a few weeks ago to get the boat winterized.  I got the boat started and drove it around to the community dock....preparing to load it on the trailer. 

 

 





Kelsey standing next to Dad's boat. 

 

OK.  Again, this is going to be hard to write.  Some people may like my decision, some people may think I am an asshole.  If you have negative opinions, then quit reading now. 

 

"I want to go back home to Kentucky, live in the mountains, get a pontoon boat, and fish.  This is where I want to die!"..... Don Zaleuke (1999- 2013) 

 

After Dad was cremated, Judy had his ashes put into a large urn for herself, and five smaller urns for me and brother and sisters.  I asked permission from Judy if I could carryout one last wish of my Father.  Judy being who she is, said: "Of Course you can!"  That being said, I grabbed Kelsey and guided the boat into the lake channel under the big bridge.  I handed the little Urn to Kelsey. 

 

My Girl Kelsey helping PawPaw 

 

I began speaking out loud:  "Pop, this is the last thing I can do for you.  You always said you wanted to be in the mountains and fish.  You said you wanted to die in the mountains.  I have Kelsey with me, and we are going to make your last wish happen Pop.  Now you can be in the mountains and fish forever.  I love you Pop, and I am going to miss you." 

 



Kelsey Helping PawPaw Again. 

 

With that, I told Kelsey to drop the Urn into the 40' water under the bridge.  I watched the Urn drop like a rock into the dark, cool water to never be seen again.  I was pretty emotional, and Kelsey picked up on it of course.  I just wanted to love and hold her for a while.  It was soothing having her with me, and I got a warm feeling over my sole knowing I did the right thing and kept my promise to my Dad. 

 

Kelsey and I drove back to the launching ramp and loaded the boat on the trailer.  The old boat fit the trailer like a glove the first time.... Another coincidence?  I think not! 

 

Big Bubble on Tire. 

 

Other than a tire failure, I got the boat back to Florida without incidence at 8pm Sunday night.  I can't wait to get her in top working order again.  Pop would like that. 

 

I will close out the blog tomorrow night. 

 

GZ