Sunday, November 20, 2011

Life, Death, and Baseball


There are certain things you expect to see when you attend a fall Little League game. Parents shouting in support of their young stars, boys running around having fun, base hits, errors… okay, lots of errors. But the one thing you don’t expect to see is another parent sitting next to you suddenly in a life and death crisis. But that is exactly what happened to me at my son’s first baseball game of the fall season.

This particular night was the first cold night we’d had for several months. Of course, it’s opening night, why wouldn’t it be cold? As we sat in the stands, bundled against the elements, I struck up a conversation with the parents sitting next to me. We talked about our boys, chuckled at some of the plays we witnessed, and discussed the differences between Spring Little League and Fall Little League. The one thing I didn’t do that I normally would, is introduce myself to my newfound friends.

After a few minutes of light rain and a cool breeze, my wife decided to head to the car to watch from warmer confines. I stayed in the stands, watching the game and talking more with my new friends. At one point, as I turned to say something, I noticed the wife looking over my shoulder and behind me.

I turned to see her husband standing behind the stands, back to us, hands on his knees. It looked to me like he had a bloody nose, as he leaned forward and I saw what looked to be drops of blood hitting the dirt at his feet.

His wife asked, “Do you need to go to the hospital?” At which point I realized I didn’t know the full story. I looked at her and asked if he was going to be okay. She said, “I don’t think so. He just had surgery this week.”

She stepped down from the bleachers and walked to him, placing her hand on his back and speaking softly into his ear. I watched anxiously, waiting to see any sign of whether he was going to be okay. In all honesty, I also wondered to myself whether I really wanted to get involved, not knowing the severity of what was happening or whether I was even equipped to help.

As he turned toward me, I realized there was something terribly wrong. Blood was rushing from his mouth, and it looked like he was having a hard time breathing. His wife turned to a man standing nearby, asking if he would help her get him to their car. I realized that was not a good idea, and he wouldn’t make it that far based on what I was witnessing.

I jumped off the bleachers, looked at the other man and told him to call 911. “He’s not going to make it to the car,” I said. “He needs help right now.”

“A man has no more character than he can command in a time of crisis.”

I went to him and braced under his arms, leading him to another set of bleachers not being used. I held him up, positioning him over a large garbage can, and he continued to lose what looked to be massive amounts of blood from his mouth. As I held him up, I knew that I couldn’t let him fall or he would choke to death on his own blood. Then I noticed the line of staples from just under his left ear, down to about mid-throat. I found out later that he had just had surgery to remove cancerous lymph nodes, as well as his tonsils. What had happened is the scab inside his throat blew out, and that area is so vascular, that the blood was literally flowing from his throat and mouth. And I had no idea how to stop it.

At that moment, his son, who had been playing baseball, came over to see his dad. He was crying and calling out to him. I told his mother to keep him and the other boys back from the scene. This was not something they should witness.

She came over to us, telling him 911 had been called. He seemed to wave her off as though he was telling her he was going to be okay. She said, “You’re a critical care nurse! What would you do?”

I was so far out of my element at this point, all I could think to do was talk to him, and help keep him as calm as possible. With every gasp, he was losing more blood, his hands and body shaking, his heart beating at a frantic pace – I could feel it as I held my hand on his back. I continued to speak calmly, “Help is on the way. Stay with me. I’m right here, and I’m not going to let you fall.” Inside I was anything but calm. I was scared to death that this poor man was going to bleed out right there in my arms. I felt so helpless.

“You can't relate to a superhero, to a superman, but you can identify with a real man who in times of crisis draws forth some extraordinary quality from within himself and triumphs but only after a struggle.”

When the first responders from the Fire Department arrived after what seemed like hours – it was probably 10 minutes or so – I was feeling incredibly relieved. “They’re here,” I told him. As they approached, I stepped back, giving way to the experts.

Suddenly everything went white and I couldn’t hear anything going on around me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I knew I was going to pass out. I braced myself against the bleachers, struggling to gain composure. I didn’t want to become part of the problem! That poor man needed their help, and I didn’t want to distract any of their attention from him.

I was able to regain my bearings, and by that time the ball game was over and the boys were standing around watching the scene. I said something unintelligible to the wife, and took my son Trevor to the car. Once inside, I sat there and my emotions overwhelmed me. I shook and cried and had no idea if I had done the right thing. Was he going to be okay? Why didn’t I do more?

Fast forward two days to the boys’ next practice. I was anxious as I drove Trevor to the fields. I didn’t know the names of the people I had helped, and had no idea if he was okay. As we parked the car and walked to the field, I saw something that made my heart stop. Was it really them?

There, standing on the field talking with the coach, was the couple from two nights before. They turned and saw me, and the man walked over and we embraced. “I am so happy to see you!” I said as I hugged him tightly. He thanked me for what I did the other night, telling me he had no idea who was helping him, but that my voice helped him maintain whatever composure he had, and remain calm enough to not lose control of his accelerating heart rate.

I won’t tell you that I did anything heroic. Not even sure it was the right thing to do at the time. What I can tell you is that I did the only thing I could. I did my best to help another human being in trouble. Thank God, all worked out, and he is recovering. Oh, and their names are Dave and Janelle. And we talk at every game!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

A Father's Love


This last Friday night, I had the opportunity to see something that brought pure joy to my heart - my son Trevor and his Little League team, The Rays, were playing for the Little League Championship. And, I almost missed it.

Back up a couple of weeks...

I had booked a speaking engagement for a Saturday morning breakfast meeting for a group of men in Sacramento, CA. I was planning on speaking to them on creating breakthrough relationships in all areas of life - from personal to professional. And, it was perfect because the evening before, my best friend was throwing a party to celebrate his oldest son's engagement - and he lives only a few miles from where I was scheduled to speak. "Great!" I thought, as I made plans to drive down the Friday evening before, attend the party, and speak the next morning before heading back to Reno.

As the Little League season went on, Trevor's team continued to play well, and eventually earned the #2 seed going into their end-of-season tournament. They won their first two games, and wound up in the Championship game - which was, of course, the same night I was going to be in Sacramento celebrating with close friends.

"That's okay," I reasoned to myself, as I made mental plans to drive down as previously decided. "I've been to most of his games this season, he'll understand if I'm not there for this one. Everyone else in the family will be there. Besides, if I wait to drive down after the game, I'll miss the party."

At this point, the voice of reason was nowhere to be found. That is, until my wife mentioned it to me and asked what I was going to do. We discussed it very briefly, and honestly I was feeling selfish, and not wanting to budge on my position. She looked at me with great conviction in her eyes and quietly said, "I know what I would do. It's a no-brainer."

And I knew she was right, which only made me want to dig my heels in a little more. It was a no-brainer. Decisions like that one can only be made in the heart, not the head. So, I decided I would stay for the game and leave as soon as it was over. I'll get there later than planned, but I'm sure there will still be people there.

I was also going to meet with Lee, the man who asked me to speak to his group the next day, as he would be at the party. We would review some of the final details, and tie up any loose ends.

Thursday night, as I was driving to a client meeting, I gave him a quick call to let him know of the change in plans. As we talked, I told him about my son's baseball game, and my desire to see him play. Of course, Lee was incredibly supportive and said he'd do the same thing. I said, "You know, Lee, I really feel the need to be there because when I was about 9 or 10 years old, my Little League team was playing for the city championship," the words stuck in my throat as they brought back some long-ago-forgotten hurt that still lurked in the shadows of memory, "and my dad wasn't there to see me play. And I was heartbroken."

My voice cracked as I said those words, and the tears began to flow, as I was suddenly thrust back in time to that day when I was the same age as my boy... and my dad had let me down. And in that moment I knew. I had to be there. There was no question.

Later that night, I was talking with some family friends, and telling them about my conversation and its impact on me. Their 12-year-old daughter said something to me that I'll never forget. She looked at me with wisdom well beyond her years, and said, "You know, you'll be changing your life by about 3 hours. But you may be changing his life forever."

Well, game night came, and unfortunately Trevor's team came up short in the run column. They fought hard, and it was heartbreaking to see these little men, who battled all year, and wanted so badly to win, realize that for this year, at least, that dream was gone.

I walked up to Trevor after the coach addressed the team, I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, and as he looked up at me I said, "Trevor, I am so proud of you!" And the tears that poured from his eyes broke my heart. And that's when I really knew - there was no way I could have ever missed this moment. It wasn't about the game. It was about this very moment... in sharing his heartbreak, and loving him, that I was truly showing him a father's love.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Choose Hope...

The images are stark - so much so, I struggle to find words to adequately describe the devastation. The destruction and chaos are undeniable and brutal. Like most of the rest of the world, for the last two weeks I have watched in disbelief and horror as the events in Japan have unfolded like some out-of-this-world disaster movie that simply cannot be real. And sadly, dreadfully, those events are exactly that - real. Unimaginable. Devastating.

In the span of just a few hours beginning at about 2:46 PM local time, the northern coast of Japan was rocked by an earthquake of magnitude 8.9, bludgeoned by a tsunami that killed thousands and swept away everything in its path - devastating the countryside miles inland - followed by the failure of a nuclear reactor which today continues to threaten the area for many miles around.

If it weren't happening in front of our eyes, we might tend to think it was a Hollywood disaster movie; one of epic - even Biblical - proportions. Every day it would seem that we are reminded of the forces of nature in some way. This reminder is of such magnitude that it shakes us to our core.

And, somehow in the midst of all this tragedy, destruction, and fear, we see the indelible mark of hope. It's present in the survivors who, even in the midst of hunger, thirst, homelessness, and uncertainty, continue to reach out to each other to help whenever and wherever possible. It's evident in the calm lines of people who are waiting for what little food, water, and shelter are available. It's present in the faces of people living in the shelters and in their words as they continue to focus not on what has happened to them, but rather on what they can do to begin the work of rebuilding their country.

"... the last of the human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."
- Viktor E. Frankl, "Man's Search for Meaning," Holocaust survivor 

We know about stories of triumph that reach us through the news media - the teacher who helps rescue students trapped by raging waters inside a school, the freeing of a grandmother and grandson from the rubble where they were trapped for 9 days - and countless others that we may never hear of. What is most consoling to me, though, is the level of civility, calm, and outright hope for the future that seems to permeate the Japanese people despite the tragedy that has befallen them.

As I watch this compelling and life-affirming behavior, I have to wonder to myself, "Could I be this dignified, this consoling, this willing to help others were I in the same situation?" I would like to think yes. And at the same time, I hope that I never have to be put to that same test.

I think of how incongruent the scenes of devastation when played out in the midst of such loving sacrifice and contribution by those who have been so dramatically impacted. When I view my own challenges and frustrations through this lens, I realize I have so little to be truly angry or alarmed about, and so much to be grateful and hopeful about. It reminds me that truly, each and every day we have a choice in life. To choose sadness, victimization, self-pity, and anger, or to choose faith, service, happiness, and hope. What have you chosen up until now? What will you now choose?

Monday, December 13, 2010

Reinvent Yourself

One of the first bits of advice I received from a writer friend when I began to publish these newsletters was to "write what you know." It made a lot of sense to me back then, and it still holds true today. In each of my newsletters, I write from a very personal point of view about issues that I have experienced or may still be experiencing in my own life. It seems to add a level of authenticity to my writing, and also helps me to take a more objective view of my own life and to maybe even see things from a different perspective. In that vein, I wanted to take this opportunity to write about something I have a great deal of experience with in the last few years - the idea of "Reinventing Yourself."

There are many people who are struggling with this very issue right now - some of them are my friends. Some are probably your friends or family, as well. All around us, people are still being downsized, furloughed, laid off, and their jobs eliminated. No matter how you choose to spin it, the truth is that people are losing jobs, taking massive pay cuts, or have been unsuccessful in finding new employment. I heard someone remark recently that the new definition of an optimist is someone who takes their lunch to work!

What are they (or we) to do? Let me share some of my story of personal transformation with you, in the hope that it may inspire you to see yourself differently, reexamine your assumptions about who you are, and maybe even start you on the path to reinventing yourself.

Prior to becoming a sought-after coach, trainer, and speaker, I spent more than 25 years working for a world-class manufacturing company. I was accomplished, well known, respected, liked, and - dare I say - comfortable. I figured this was my end-game, and that I would work there until retirement, enjoying the perks of the job and living a very contented lifestyle.

Well, all that came to an abrupt end in November of 2008 when I was told my services were no longer required. 25 years. Gone. Suddenly everything I knew was thrust into uncertainty. What would I do? So much of who I thought I was, my internal sense of identity, was tied to what I had been doing for all those years. Who am I without my job? How will I support my family? How will I recover from this massive blow?

I had some hard choices to make. The first one was, what will I do with the rest of my work life? I had for many years joked, "I hope I never lose this job, because I don't know how to do anything else." Well, now it was time to figure it out. I had to ask myself some powerful questions and determine what was next for me - I had to reinvent myself. Here are some strategies I used to find my way, discover the previously unseen path, and eventually find not only a new career path, but also my true passion in life.

Find Your Strengths
What are the things that you love to do? What are those things that you are really good at, and when you do them you feel like you just are "in the flow?" When you can identify and connect with your strengths, you can use them as a guide for finding your way. There is great truth to the notion that you will never become a peak performer by working to improve your weaknesses. You become a peak performer by improving upon your strengths.

Look to Your Values
Values are intrinsic. They are those things that you can't live without. They can also give you great insight into your direction for your life. People who live in alignment with their values tend to be the most balanced, fulfilled, and happy. Pick out a path that you love, because in it you will find the energy to sustain you as you move forward, even when you encounter challenges. When you pursue something you love, it becomes easier to take the inevitable bumps and bruises. Use your values to give you guidance in finding what you really want for your life.

Don't let Circumstances Control Your Thoughts and Feelings
We tend to see our thoughts and feelings as being caused by the events that occur in our life. What really happens is there is an event, we interpret what it means to us, and then we form our thoughts, which create our feelings. You need to anticipate that there will be challenges and struggles. When you recognize them as part of the process, they lose their ability to rob you of your momentum. Did you know that the Chinese symbol for "crisis" contains the dual symbols representing both danger and opportunity? Where do you choose to focus your attention? Don't let circumstances control your feelings.

Self Care is Important
It can't be stated emphatically enough that a strong, healthy body can help you produce better results. Take care of yourself, eat well, get enough sleep, and exercise. It will have a direct impact on your state of mind.

What do You Need?
If you find a new path that you want to take, do your research before you leap. What skills, knowledge, or education do you need to take on this new career path? When you learn what is needed to pursue this new direction, you can plan your next moves and provide yourself a greater opportunity for success.

Be Persistent
Nothing great was ever achieved without effort. If you continue to focus on the end goal, it will give you the motivation to keep going even when you meet challenges. Being persistent means not giving in when you hit an obstacle. Find a way to get over it, under it, through it, or around it. In the groundbreaking book, "Think and Grow Rich," author Napoleon Hill emphasizes persistence so much that he devoted an entire chapter to it.

Reach for Support
Who are the people in your life who can give you the support you need to take on the new challenges you face? What others do you need to bring into your life to help? Who can give you insights, knowledge, or contacts to assist? Look for support, because the world is truly filled with people who want to help you. It's up to you to reach out to them and ask. Don't let ego get in the way. Ego stops you from looking outside yourself for answers. The same thinking that got you here, won't get you to where you want to go.

What is Your "Why?"
Your purpose must be stronger than your challenges. I ask clients all the time, "What is your "why?"' Last year, I wrote a newsletter about my friend, Keli Wilson, who decided she wanted to take a stand in the fight to beat world hunger, focusing specifically on children under 5, who comprise the largest at-risk group for starvation. That is what I call a powerful reason, or "why," for her to get up and do something every day. What is your why?

Overcome Self-Limiting Beliefs
I remember seeing an old Clint Eastwood movie, I think it was one of the Dirty Harry movies - and in it he says, "A man's got to know his limitations." Well, you also have to know that whatever limits you perceive in your life, they are a creation of your own self-limiting beliefs. Most of us formed the majority of our beliefs at a very early age as a result of our experiences with parents, siblings, friends, peers, teachers, etc. However, most of us carry those with us throughout our lives and never stop to ask if those beliefs still serve us. What is the evidence that supports those beliefs? If there is no longer any evidence to support them, then the beliefs MUST change!

Play All Out
When you discover something that is important to you, don't be afraid to play all out! Sometimes you have to let go of that notion of embarrassment or humiliation in order to push yourself beyond your perceived limits. Remember that embarrassment is an inside job. It's a function of ego, and it has no place in the journey you're going to take.

What Would You do if You Knew You Couldn't Fail?
There are clues in the answer to this question, too. This isn't about fantasizing or thinking unrealistically. If you're 55 and think you always wanted to be an astronaut, well, that door may be closed. But if you always wanted to open a flower shop or start a childcare facility or become a dog groomer - the possibilities are there for you. Take the previous steps we talked about, and put your plan together.

Remember to Laugh!
Why do we take ourselves so seriously? There needs to be some room in your life for laughter and joy, regardless of what's going on around you. If you can find the courage to laugh at yourself and remember that there is joy in the world, it will make a difference in how you go about the process of reinventing yourself. Again, ego takes center stage when we can't find the ability to laugh at ourselves. If you're not having any fun, then you are trying way too hard and taking it all far too seriously.

Why Would I Look for Fulfillment in my Work?
Why wouldn't you? You spend about 1/3 of your life working, maybe more - if you are not doing something you love, then you are selling yourself short. The thing is, you are selling your life for that paycheck. Is it a fair trade?

Now I'm not saying that if you do all of these things, your life will magically become better, you'll find that dream job you've been looking for, and all your worries will cease. But what I am saying is that if you do these things, you stand a far better chance of that happening than if you don't. There are many choices you will make as you continue to live your life. Think about the impact that this decision will make on your quality of life.

Maybe you don't need to reinvent yourself professionally. What about personally? Sometimes the transformation we need the most, is the one we fear the most. These strategies will hold true whether the change you seek is personal or professional.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

What's the Point?

I’ve been asked several times why I write these newsletters, so I thought I would take some time to answer that question for any of you who may be curious. So, what’s the point, you may ask? Do I write these just to bring a bit of sunshine, positivity, and a sense of what’s possible into my readers’ lives? Well, yes. And, I do it as much for myself as for any one of you who read these newsletters.

As many of you know, I also have a presence on Facebook and I thoroughly enjoy posting inspirational and uplifting messages for all of my “friends.” I’ve been asked a few times what it’s like to always be happy, positive, and upbeat. To which I answer, “I have no idea. I’m not always feeling any or all of those things.” In fact, ask my family if I’m always happy and upbeat and I’m sure you’ll get a good laugh!

However, just think how boring and uninteresting life would be if all we experienced were one narrow range of our emotions. After all, what would joy be without pain and sadness, excitement without boredom, or victory and exhilaration without frustration and defeat? In order to be who we are meant to be in this world, it’s vitally important for us to realize that emotions are the juice of life. Good, bad, or otherwise (although as I often remind clients, there are no “bad” emotions).

It’s critical to understand that in order to experience our full capacity as human beings, we must be open to all that comes with it. And sometimes that is messy. Let’s face it – emotions can be very messy. And, at the same time they give us so much.

“Feeling emotions is what makes life rich. You need your passions.”
                    - Daniel Goleman, Author “Emotional Intelligence

Think of the excitement of your first kiss, that exhilarating roller coaster ride at the theme park, your wedding day, the birth of a child, or holding the hand of a loved one as they pass from this life to the next. How sad and empty we would be if we always felt the same. The richness of our lives is enhanced by our ability to connect and truly feel our emotions.

That’s one of the reasons I love to write these newsletters. They give me an opportunity to connect with all my readers in a deeper spiritual sense, hopefully to evoke an emotional response from them, and in that response, to share in their experience of life in profound ways.

See, there are those in life we call “adrenaline junkies.” You know the ones, the jumping-off-a-cliff-skydiving-bungee-jumping-roller-coaster-riding people. Well, I’m an “emotion junkie” of sorts. I have learned (not without hardship and challenge) that only by embracing my full humanity, and accepting my emotions as a necessary and welcome part of me, can I truly be fully present and engaged in my life.

So, what’s the point? Well, I certainly think that each one of you can and will draw your own conclusions. But for me the point is to embrace my emotions, feel them at my core, accept them as part of me, and know that in doing so I am opening myself to the greatest adventure we know – LIFE!

What Are You Overlooking?


A couple of weeks ago, my family and I decided to go on a hike in the Lake Tahoe area. This particular Sunday was a bright, crisp day; the kind of Northern Nevada summer day we’ve grown accustomed to over the years. Spectacular sunshine, relatively few clouds, and a slight breeze – just enough to keep the temperature bearable. We settled on heading for a destination we had not previously been to – Cascade Falls.

We hiked the trail leading up to this pristine wilderness area high above Cascade Lake and Lake Tahoe. The day was warm, but not overly so. The trail itself was well laid out – rocky and narrow in some areas, and in others wide and smooth. Overall, it was a relatively moderate hike – certainly easy enough for all in our party to hike without too much effort or becoming overheated.

Along the way, there were the obligatory stops. We would occasionally climb atop some of the huge boulders along the trail to gain a higher perspective of the two lakes and the wilderness below. We took photos of the views and of each other. And of course, Trevor just had to throw a few rocks as he peered over some of the cliffs and sheer drops along the trail. Hey, every 8-year-old boy in his right mind is going to want to do that! And maybe even a 48-year-old boy, too! Naturally, his mother and I always kept vigilant watch over him, ensuring he maintain a minimum safe distance from the edge.

As we hiked the trail further, we could discern the distant sound of running water. Gradually, as we neared our destination, the sound became a roar. And what we came upon when we crossed the last ridge of the trail was more than we had prepared for. Here was a spectacular waterfall, in its full glory, dropping hundreds of feet to the rocks below before making its way to its final destination - Cascade Lake.

“Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The runoff from the melting Sierra snows had created one of the most spectacular sights in the Lake Tahoe region, and this incredible waterfall was there for us to enjoy and treasure. We spent time hiking along the stream that led to the falls, and explored the surrounding terrain of granite cliffs and mesas.

We looked at each other as if to ask, “How can it be that we’ve lived in this area for so long and never been to this place before?” At least we were here now. I have always been one to appreciate the incredible area we live in. The Sierras and the Tahoe region offer so much not only in terms of outdoor activities, but in terms of sheer beauty – well, I would challenge anyone to show me a more majestic and beautiful place on this planet. There may be equals, but I would be surprised if anything could surpass this.

After about an hour of taking in this magnificent sight, snapping what seemed to be hundreds of photos, and splashing our feet in the cool waters that flowed past, it was time to head back down the trail. When we finally reached the bottom, and got to our car, we quietly, almost reverently it would seem, took a few moments to reflect on what we had just witnessed.

Then as we started the drive toward home, I glanced one last time toward Cascade Lake out the window on the right side of the vehicle. Then, almost as if it had appeared magically, as I gazed out to the far edges of the shore and looked up – there it was. Cascade Falls. In all the years I have been going to Lake Tahoe, driving around toward Emerald Bay, past Cascade Lake, I had never before noticed the incredible sight in the distance of the falls that feed this mountain wonder! How could I have been so blind to this amazing sight all those years? And, it begs the question, “Where else in my life am I not seeing what’s right in front of me?”

The Passing of a Legend

People have a tendency to throw around words like famous, superstar, celebrity, and legend without much thought to the person behind them. Sadly, it seems that all too often, as someone’s celebrity grows, more and more people seek to find and expose their flaws. Some can stand up to the glare of the spotlight, while others wilt under the intense scrutiny. Still others seem to come through completely unscathed – they are exactly as they seem to be.

Such a man was John Wooden.

The world lost a giant with his passing. This was a man who not only seemed too good to be true – he really was. Now don’t get me wrong. Like all human beings, he certainly had his flaws. It’s just that he didn’t have them splashed all over the newspapers, TV or Internet. He remained true to his values and humble to the end.

Now most, if not all of you, know who John Wooden was. He was most well known as the coach who led the UCLA Men’s Basketball team to a mind-boggling total of ten NCAA National Basketball Championships, with a record 88 consecutive victories and seven NCAA Championships in a row at one point! He was a basketball legend in the truest sense of the word.

I’m not here to write about that part of his life. No, the John Wooden I wish to briefly highlight today was a man who was dedicated to the notion that life is much more than what we do, how many games we win, or how much money we make. The John Wooden I wish to honor is the man who taught so many about the values of honesty, teamwork, perseverance, humility, faith, and love. As I say many times to clients I work with, “Don’t be so concerned with what you do. Focus on who you are becoming in the process.”

“Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.”

Wooden had an innate sense of how to reach and motivate his players. He developed what he called “The Pyramid of Success” which encompassed the qualities that he felt were essential to be successful in any aspect of life. When he coached his teams – as hard as it may be to believe – he says he never stressed winning. He focused on them giving their best effort. He was heard to tell his players that the scoreboard might show they had the higher score at the end of the game, but if they didn’t give their best effort, they were losers.

You see, we thought John Wooden was a basketball coach. But we were wrong. He was so much more than that. He was a Life Coach. The wisdom of his words and the depth of his lessons were universal in their application.

“Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.

Wooden was most concerned with teaching young men how to be men of character and integrity. He built his career on the notion that who they were as people was more important than who they were as basketball players. "What you are as a person is far more important that what you are as a basketball player.” As I listened to the seemingly endless string of interviews with former players, I was struck by the respect and reverence with which they spoke of him, and his impact on their lives. Truly, John Wooden was a man who made a difference. He set the standard not only for the coaching profession, but also for how we can live our lives.

There are so many profound truths to the wisdom of Coach Wooden. He made others wish to be better people by his mere presence.

“The most important word in our language is love. The second is balance; keeping things in perspective.”

The thing I most admired about John Wooden was something I didn’t know about until after his passing. It was his undying love and devotion to his wife of 53 years, Nellie. She died of cancer on March 21, 1985. Wooden never lost his devotion to her, and from that time on, every month on the 21st, he wrote her a love letter. Every month of every year from her death in 1985 until his own passing two weeks ago. No one was ever allowed to read them, not even family. He placed each letter in an envelope and added it to the stack of letters on the pillow she used to sleep on.

Nellie was the first – and only – girl he ever kissed. When asked how he was able to make love last in a marriage, he said, “There’s only one way. Truly, truly, truly love. Most powerful thing there is.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but that pretty much tells me all I would ever need to know about Wooden and his character. Many of us have a difficult enough time letting those we love know while they’re around. This man was so deeply in love, so devoted, that he never lost his desire to let his wife know. He never took that love for granted. And now, he and Nellie are finally reunited in eternity – at least, that’s my take on it.

Goodbye, Coach, and Godspeed.