As I sit here and type in this blog that I have been ignoring for the past three weeks I started to re-call all the past Thanksgiving Breaks. Actually I started thinking about that on Monday. It wasn't because I was going to have a five-day weekend off from work - yet I still find myself doing SID stuff - it was something much more than that.
When we were younger the day before Thanksgiving was always something special. It was different. We got out of school at 11:45 and in high school it was always the day of the pep rally to fire up our boys to kick Belmont's ass the next day. In college it was a tad bit different. Instead of going home on Wednesday, dorms closed Tuesday night at 7pm and didn't re-open until Sunday at 12pm. We had a five day week. Sort of like what I have now - except I don't have to worry about turning in 15 page papers or studying for finals when I get go back to work on Monday. My biggest worry right now is sending and receiving basketball rosters from New England College, Albertus Magnus and MIT as well as making sure everything runs smoothly, from an SID standpoint, at our basketball double-header on Tuesday.
My priorities and responsibilities may have changed but not my schedule. I'm very fortunate to be at a job I love where I get time off like this because I know half the world is going to have to wake up tomorrow morning and go to work. I'm lucky I don't have too. (Yet probably will anyway because I love what I do and I'm weird like that.)
All this got me thinking about why I am where I am today. And you know what? It all comes down to Thanksgiving Break.
It was the Tuesday of Thanksgiving Break my senior year at McDaniel. I was just about ready to head to BWI to board a plane home for the holiday week. I stopped off at the golf course and decided to shoot the shit with Coach. At some point the conversion diverged to what my plans were after graduation. At that point in time I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I always envisioned myself as a sports reporter writing about the Red Sox but never really thought about post-college life. It was at that point in time Coach planted the seeds of becoming a Sports Information Director.
He knew my passion for sports was endless and I was always at any Green Terror sporting event - not just your basics: football, basketball, baseball or softball. Heck when we hosted the Centennial Conference Outdoor Track & Field Championship my junior year I was at that. To many that would be boring and like watching paint dry but I was intrigued by it. It energized me.
So Coach planted the seeds and from there the idea flourished.
Now I knew what I wanted to do but the toughest part was yet to come: pursuing it. How do I get my foot in the door? Normally SIDs worked in the sports information office when they were undergraduates but I jumped aboard late so all of my experience had to come post-graduation.
Once I graduated I was going to back at the summer camp I had worked at for the past six years for the summer months but before then a friend of the family put me in touch with an Asst. A.D. (Steph) at BC. So now I partially had my foot in the door. At the end of the summer, I was sitting in Fitzy's with Tim one Friday night when we ran into Mr. Sullivan (the, then, Recreation Director - our big boss for the past seven years at camp). He asked us what we were planning on doing during the school year. After Tim told him that he was going to be work at Kids In Common while still going to school, I told him what I wanted to do. That is when he gave me the name of Peter Centola (the, then, A.D. at Newbury).
In addition to the game day work I was going to be doing at BC, I dashed off a quick email to Pete. Of course he didn't respond to me right away so Maureen emailed him and that afternoon I got a phone call asking when I could come in and meet. My first trip to East Hall was August 28th. I worked for a bout a year and half unpaid before I got compensation. I knew my time was going to come so I bided my time.
When Pete left to become the Recreation Director in Watertown, I really didn't know what that would mean for me. At that point in time, he was my connection to Newbury. But then again like everything else, everything seemed to work out and fall into place.
Steph always kept in contact with me (and still does) and when I told her Jess was our new A.D. she sent back a quick reply with "oh Jess is a good friend of mine." Wow how weird is that. I started to think about it even more so I talked to Dawn, a fellow Oakley member and golfer, and she said she played basketball with Jess and knew her really well. Ok now this was starting to scare me. My world just got smaller.
Sometime after that Jess brought me back to Newbury and haven't left since. My mind is constantly thinking about Newbury and ways I can make things better. And to think it all started with Thanksgiving Break 2006.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The Game of Testament and Will
Thinking back to my college golf days I've come to realize I was spoiled.
Not only did I have a course on campus that I could go out everyday (and should've taken more advantage of it) and was fortunate enough to play for three conference championships including a chance to go to Nationals but I had a great coach.
Even if I didn't think Coach was anything special at the time because that is all I knew, looking back he is one of the highest, well-respected golf coaches in the country. But I didn't know any different. I didn't put two and two together and realize the reason we were winning was because of all the perks McDaniel had over Gettysburg, Muhlenberg, Dickinson, F&M and Ursinus.
A great coach, just like a great boss, makes you want to do better and when you screw up you feel like you disappointed him. I never wanted to disappoint coach.
I tell this story a lot but it's true. I wasn't supposed to go to the first tournament my freshman year at Kutztown. Coach was going to take Webster because at the time we had similar games but he did tell me the #4 girl was injured and if she couldn't go I would be going in her place. I ended up going because #4 was hurt and #5 had a concert she wanted to go to. From that point onward I never missed a tournament.
But that does not mean I played well in every tournament and when I played terrible I always felt like I let him down. My mindset (even if I didn't know it at the time) was I wanted to prove to him he didn't make a mistake. When I didn't live up to my high standards I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for what felt like a month.
My last post about Coach laying into me after the Kutztown Spring Invite. my senior year was an example of it. But of course I have more examples. It's not necessarily a bad thing but a learning experience.
Another story I like to tell is the day I missed a six-inch putt at the Mt. Holyoke Invitational. To the average listener (and recreational golfer) it is funny but if you really new me and what I was thinking at the time you know that it was not joke. We started the day on 10th hole so on my 17th hole (the 8th hole at The Orchards) I was on the green in three and had a long putt for par. I missed the par putt but had a tap in for bogey. It was a putt I was thinking I couldn't miss even if I tried but I didn't give it the time it deserved and the ball rolled around the lip of the cup. Three-putt for a six.
Coach was watching from afar and the next thing I saw was him walking back down the fairway towards the green. There was only one way to the next tee so I had to walk by him but I made no eye contact. I couldn't make eye contact. It was not something I was proud of at that moment. I just felt him next to me and remember his words to this day (although it was five years ago) "that's not going to happen again, is it?"
All I could do was shake my head and with my head down, say no.
To this day, that putt still eats away at me. Maybe it shows my testament that I don't like to disappoint and feel ashamed when I do, even if it is something small and can be overlooked such as a six-inch putt.
There are more of those stories on the golf course (and off I might add). Remembering the time we had a chance to go to Nationals sophomore year competing for second in the region against Mt. Holyoke. The head-to-head was tied at 1-1-1 and we needed to beat them in our Spring Break tournament in Jekyll Island.
We all played terrible the first day of the two day tournament and we felt like we were pissing away our chance at going to Nationals. The second day I didn't feel like I was doing any better than the first day. Just treading water and hoping to stay alive.
I came to the par three 16th hole at the Indian Mound course. It was a two tear green and had a slope so daunting that you could not be over the green. I was just short of the green and coach said to me "chip and a putt, make par" before he drove off.
There was no doubt in my mind I couldn't make a nice chip up close and one-putt for par but I screwed up, I hit it over the green (exactly where I didn't want to be) and ended up with a double.
It came down to my score. Our #4 shot 100 and we were trailing Mt. Holyoke at the time then I came in with an 89. It was what we needed and tied Mt. Holyoke but only I knew it could've been better. We should've been at Nationals that year. Six years have passed since that day in Spring Break but I can still vividly recall it like it was yesterday.
There is one last story about my days on the golf course I'd like to share. It was my senior year, the final day of my last college golf tournament of my career. Muhlenberg was in the lead thanks to a ridiculous #1 player. That day after three straight bogeys on the first three holes responded draining a seven-footer for birdie then followed it up with four straight pars to shoot three-over on the front. I was on my way to a having a great day. But as good as I was playing on the front, it was a complete 180 on the back as I blew up and ended up turning in a scorecard of a 92.
Just like the day I missed a six-incher or in Jekyll Island I felt terrible that after four years I let Coach down. Now I know that's not true but Coach has this thing about him that no matter what you shoot he always wants you to do better. And I love that about him.
Not only did I have a course on campus that I could go out everyday (and should've taken more advantage of it) and was fortunate enough to play for three conference championships including a chance to go to Nationals but I had a great coach.
Even if I didn't think Coach was anything special at the time because that is all I knew, looking back he is one of the highest, well-respected golf coaches in the country. But I didn't know any different. I didn't put two and two together and realize the reason we were winning was because of all the perks McDaniel had over Gettysburg, Muhlenberg, Dickinson, F&M and Ursinus.
A great coach, just like a great boss, makes you want to do better and when you screw up you feel like you disappointed him. I never wanted to disappoint coach.
I tell this story a lot but it's true. I wasn't supposed to go to the first tournament my freshman year at Kutztown. Coach was going to take Webster because at the time we had similar games but he did tell me the #4 girl was injured and if she couldn't go I would be going in her place. I ended up going because #4 was hurt and #5 had a concert she wanted to go to. From that point onward I never missed a tournament.
But that does not mean I played well in every tournament and when I played terrible I always felt like I let him down. My mindset (even if I didn't know it at the time) was I wanted to prove to him he didn't make a mistake. When I didn't live up to my high standards I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for what felt like a month.
My last post about Coach laying into me after the Kutztown Spring Invite. my senior year was an example of it. But of course I have more examples. It's not necessarily a bad thing but a learning experience.
Another story I like to tell is the day I missed a six-inch putt at the Mt. Holyoke Invitational. To the average listener (and recreational golfer) it is funny but if you really new me and what I was thinking at the time you know that it was not joke. We started the day on 10th hole so on my 17th hole (the 8th hole at The Orchards) I was on the green in three and had a long putt for par. I missed the par putt but had a tap in for bogey. It was a putt I was thinking I couldn't miss even if I tried but I didn't give it the time it deserved and the ball rolled around the lip of the cup. Three-putt for a six.
Coach was watching from afar and the next thing I saw was him walking back down the fairway towards the green. There was only one way to the next tee so I had to walk by him but I made no eye contact. I couldn't make eye contact. It was not something I was proud of at that moment. I just felt him next to me and remember his words to this day (although it was five years ago) "that's not going to happen again, is it?"
All I could do was shake my head and with my head down, say no.
To this day, that putt still eats away at me. Maybe it shows my testament that I don't like to disappoint and feel ashamed when I do, even if it is something small and can be overlooked such as a six-inch putt.
There are more of those stories on the golf course (and off I might add). Remembering the time we had a chance to go to Nationals sophomore year competing for second in the region against Mt. Holyoke. The head-to-head was tied at 1-1-1 and we needed to beat them in our Spring Break tournament in Jekyll Island.
We all played terrible the first day of the two day tournament and we felt like we were pissing away our chance at going to Nationals. The second day I didn't feel like I was doing any better than the first day. Just treading water and hoping to stay alive.
I came to the par three 16th hole at the Indian Mound course. It was a two tear green and had a slope so daunting that you could not be over the green. I was just short of the green and coach said to me "chip and a putt, make par" before he drove off.
There was no doubt in my mind I couldn't make a nice chip up close and one-putt for par but I screwed up, I hit it over the green (exactly where I didn't want to be) and ended up with a double.
It came down to my score. Our #4 shot 100 and we were trailing Mt. Holyoke at the time then I came in with an 89. It was what we needed and tied Mt. Holyoke but only I knew it could've been better. We should've been at Nationals that year. Six years have passed since that day in Spring Break but I can still vividly recall it like it was yesterday.
There is one last story about my days on the golf course I'd like to share. It was my senior year, the final day of my last college golf tournament of my career. Muhlenberg was in the lead thanks to a ridiculous #1 player. That day after three straight bogeys on the first three holes responded draining a seven-footer for birdie then followed it up with four straight pars to shoot three-over on the front. I was on my way to a having a great day. But as good as I was playing on the front, it was a complete 180 on the back as I blew up and ended up turning in a scorecard of a 92.
Just like the day I missed a six-incher or in Jekyll Island I felt terrible that after four years I let Coach down. Now I know that's not true but Coach has this thing about him that no matter what you shoot he always wants you to do better. And I love that about him.
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