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| photos from Kentucky Advocate |
I made it.
Friday was a tough day. It had been six years since my Dad passed away, October 1st, 2015. We were getting ready to play our Homecoming Game against a Western Hills team that would FINALLY be able to put all of their good players on the field in this crazy year two of Covid. I knew Don Miller would have his guys ready and they absolutely got after us in a tough ball game.
After getting our tails kicked at CAL, we had a good week of practice, but one filled with distractions and we were admittedly a little rattled. I wasn't really sure who would play and who would not play until 5:15 pm Friday night.... and has it turned out, we had some pretty good players that would not play. We were thin, and some of our best players that were playing were banged up.
In one of those moments, where God is telling you He loves you, I am walking in the complex Friday night to get ready for the game and someone yells, "David!" Nobody calls me David anymore so I keep going and hear it again. This time I look to see who is yelling and it is Lynn Harmon...a wonderful family/church/FCA friend going back to when I was four years old... really more family than friend. I am thinking she has come to check on me because it is the day that Dad has died. But, she has no idea. She does say that Steele (her husband, and one my Dad's best friends) is waiting on me in the office. Sure enough, Steele is there visiting with my coaches. We have fun hearing some old stories and it is a great visit that I really needed. Steele is one of those special people that when he is there, it seems like my Dad is in the room. Not surprisingly, I get a little emotional as he walks out the door, but thankful for the visit and the very real manifestation of God's love that I have just experienced.
Our game goes down to the wire and we are fortunate to win. It was a great combination of being happy for our kids and a huge relief that we have survived one of those weeks and one of those nights that not much had seemed to go our way.
Saturday night as I drove by the HS, and saw all the cars for the dance, I remembered my very first Homecoming at Mercer County in October of 1974. The Scotties had won and were having a really good season, on our way to what would be the first winning season in school history. I was with my Dad after that Friday night game, up at the HS. I think we were working on video or maybe washing uniforms... not sure. The homecoming dance, I think, was taking place. I am not sure how, but I think we found some country ham biscuits that were awful good. I say, "I THINK" because I was 9 years old. I definitely remember the night, but some details are a little foggy. I am sure of this, my Dad was very happy, and everyone we bumped into that night was awful excited about the win and the football season. And, although I was very young, I was able to realize something really cool about what was going on.... the Mercer County people really appreciated my Dad. Football had been awful tough at Mercer County. My Dad's team was having unprecedented success. The Mercer folks appreciated my Dad, not just because they were winning more than ever before, but because they knew he loved those young men he was coaching.
I have always been very thankful for the Mercer people and my Dad's experience there. Robert Allen's death at Boyle took a huge toll on him. And, things got awful tough on the field from 1970 until he left after the 1973 season. Even at only eight years old, I remember well my Dad's last home game at Boyle against Garrard. I remember being behind the home bleachers, on the end away from the elementary school, watching the game, and thinking..."we are getting better and we are going to be really good next year." Somewhat of a strange thought for an 8 year old, but I had been around enough football and it was important enough to me that I could tell the Rebels were getting better and our best days were ahead of us. My Dad didn't get to be there to enjoy those good days that were ahead for Boyle, but he loved his Mercer County experience and the people there sure made him feel appreciated... and I was thankful for him and that he had that time. And, now for almost 50 years, I feel a tremendous sense of gratitude for those old Mercer folks from the mid 70's. They made my Dad feel appreciated and wanted. I can never repay or thank them enough for doing so and that gratitude has stayed with me the rest of my life.
As I get ready for this week, gratitude sounds like a great perspective. I think about another old coach that I love dearly, Alvis Johnson, who has gone out of his way to support me and our program as we work to build something that our community can be proud of and will help our kids. I am thankful for Coach Johnson who has been there for me, going back to 1982 when I was on the opposite sideline. I am thankful for parents that get their kids to practice at 5:30 am every Wednesday. I am thankful for coaches that work like crazy to give our guys their best chance to win. I am thankful for the greatest and most unselfish wife in the world who has supported me for 30 years of marriage and being a head coach through a bunch of great times, but an awful lot of tough ones as well. I am thankful for a community that supports Titan football and our kids. I am thankful for old friends that check on me during tough times, celebrate with me on the good days, and help me be a better person, coach & follower of Christ. I am thankful for administrators, volunteers, officials, concession workers, video guys, radio people, and custodians who make Friday nights happen. I am thankful for old guys that once wore gold, red, white, black, or blue helmets who are still family and keep in touch. I can keep going, but you get the idea.
It's hard to be unhappy when you are thankful. It is tough to be selfish when you count your blessings.
Go have a great week.
#GRATITUDE
