Turning 29 and What I Took from the Superbowl.

It's been a long time since I've posted - This blog has been on the back of my mind for a couple months now. It started as a way to keep friends back at home up-to-date with how I was doing during my college years in Boston, then basically was the place for me to write Dave each year on the anniversary of his passing. I want to get it going again, this time with a much more clear-cut purpose.

Saturday was my 29th birthday. Most people just look at this as the one-year warning before 30 hits - I've had 29 on my radar since my college coach passed away at this age. Birthdays to me are more of a reminder that I've made it one more year, which some people may look at as morbid, but while I don't fear death, I do realize that tomorrow's promised to no one and I have so many things I still want to accomplish.

When it's all said and done, I want to touch as many lives as possible before leaving this earth. I love competing in volleyball - I want to be the best I can be, and I hope that allows me to play at the AVP level one day. I don't do it for the glory, if you follow volleyball I CLEARLY don't do it for the money - if you have a passion for something and can establish credibility, people are more likely to take what you say to heart. Volleyball is my channel to do that. The last 9 months at Top Flight have been WONDERFUL being in the gym with kids all day, building confidence, showing them they can do things they had doubts about being able to achieve. I don't want to stop there though.

I plan on updating this blog frequently - sometimes it will be thoughts of my own, other times I may just write about a person that changed my life and the lessons I took from them. I don't know who will read, but if each post changes one person's outlook or even just helps pick them up throughout the day, it's worth it to me.

The Superbowl was yesterday and for me it consisted of falling in and out of sleep on the couch for the majority of the game - between 12 games of ball Saturday, waking up at 5 am on Sunday to run a tournament at Top Flight followed by shoveling the driveway when I got home for guests, I was running on empty. Most people today are focused on the results of the game, how bad the commercials were (and they were), or how they wish Monday was a National Holiday following the big game. One quote by Peyton Manning resonated through everything else to me. A reported asked him if he was embarrassed about losing 43-8 to the Seahawks. His response:

"It’s not embarrassing at all. I would never use that word,” he said. “There’s a lot of professional football players in that room, that locker room, who put a lot of hard work and effort into being here and into playing in that game. The word embarrassing is an insulting word, to tell you the truth.".

What an IMPORTANT lesson we should be bestowing to athletes, young AND old. So often we measure our accomplishments in sports by wins and losses - the reality is 50 percent of us HAVE to lose in competition, regardless of the fact that the losing team may practice just as hard as the winning one. I watch our athletes train every week at practice at a pretty consistent pace. Some weekends they are rewarded with victories, others just don't go their way and they lose.

When we win, the pats on the back come flying in, compliments about how well things went, looking forward to the next one, and so forth. When we lose? Calls/emails of concern, different demeanors but all the buzzwords typically similar - "Lost Confidence" being the biggest two of all of them.

Peyton Manning's a great athlete, but why I wish more kids would emulate him is because he is SO focused on preparation. Junior athletes should be focused on controlling the controllables, not getting caught up in the results but asking "Why?" "What did I do well" "What can I do better" and bring that to their next practices. But I remember the pressure I felt in High School - your success mattered more than the process, or at least that's how I viewed it.

There are times in life we're going to do everything right and still fall short of our goals. Other times we'll trip and stumble our way to an achievement we know didn't receive our best preparation/attention to detail. This is something I firmly believe both on and off the court. How we respond to adversity will be crucial in our everyday lives if we want to be happy. Focusing on what we can control and having peace of mind knowing that if at the end of the day we did our best, that's all we can (and should) truly ask of ourselves. I think Peyton's quote was a great way to relay that message. I'd like to think I teach that to my players. Hopefully someone reading this took something from this short novel I've written as well.

"Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm" - Winston Churchill

Ode to my Hero - Happy Birthday Dad

 Dad and I 'running' the Krispy Kreme Run in February 2012.

Today, my father turns 51 (Or perhaps it’s his annual 29^th birthday).  I have a very unique (and I feel blessed) life in the aspect that I have 6 parental figures – and each one has sculpted my personality in a positive manner.  However, I feel it’s evident that my personality is most similar to my father’s – and that’s probably why I’ve been lucky enough to have a lot of the success I’ve started to have as a young adult.  I don’t think I could ever put into words how thankful/appreciative I am for everything he’s done for me over the years, but it’s worth a shot:

Growing up, I saw my father on the weekends – and while they are still my favorite two days of the week for different reasons, I thoroughly enjoyed them at a younger age.  We would always do exciting things, whether it was go to the arcade, play sports, or find some other random event to go to.  Most weekends, he would take me to my cousins’ place, play quarterback for all the neighborhood kids in a friendly game of football, then pass out on the couch for the rest of the day as we would play on our own.  While I never understood the naps when I was younger, I certainly understand them now!

Once my cousins moved away and I started making my own friends in grade school, the role of ‘cool dad’ only grew bigger.  Every weekend we’d pick up a large group of my friends and hang out at my apartment.  I always called my dad’s place the ‘Fortress of Solitude’ – we were able to be ourselves there.  The language wasn’t always clean and the jokes were dirty, but at the same time, there was always a respect given to each person and it was never malicious towards one another.  I can’t tell you the amount of $ he spent on dinners/events we went to and participated in, but I assure you his standard of living could have been much better had he not given many of my friends and I the best childhood we could have asked for – I will always be appreciative of that.

My father built the foundation for me regarding athletic activity.  From 5^th to 8^th grade, he coached my junior high team in basketball – Let me tell you:  While I enjoy coaching and have a passion for it, my dad is the best coach in the family.  We were a VERY successful team: To this day I can tell you our overall record was 99-28, with 5 league championships (We played in 2 leagues each season) – but lessons went far beyond wins and losses.  He taught us how to play the game hard, but with class.  He knew every single player had a role on the team and made sure to utilize them, as well as continually remind them they were important.  He knew when to push us and when to let off the pedal, and when it was all said and done, he left us all SO much better than he found us, both as players as well as people.  Once I got older and our class was of driving age, I would regularly get calls from friends that popped by his place to let me know they were there – and they weren’t looking for me.  To this day a large group of us get together for a mini-reunion, and he’s always the focal point.

People that know me know that I can be honest and firm (OK, maybe you’d say blunt and sometimes something worse than that) – and I get that trait directly from him.  The intentions are always good, as they were with him.  I remember being in 6^th grade, in the drive thru at Burger King on York.  Dad was trying to explain to me that I had to start working harder if I wanted to keep up with everyone as we got older.  I was a bit arrogant at the time, so I wasn’t really receiving the message.  He looked at me and in a matter-of-fact tone said “If you don’t start working harder to improve your game, you aren’t going to make your high school team”.  I balled my eyes out: How could he say that to me? 

I was cut in high school.  Twice.

Looking back on it, I appreciate what he did for two reasons: He told me something I NEEDED to hear, not what I wanted to hear. But more importantly: He let me make the mistake.  Because although he was right, at a younger age, sometimes I needed to touch the hot stove to learn the lesson (in this case, two times).  The reality of the situation is although I’ve had a great run with volleyball, it only happened because I fell short in basketball and learned from that experience what the value of hard work really was.  Some parents, especially as coaches, would have force-fed the sport down my throat: He let me make my own choices.

In a time where we constantly deal with people that can be deceiving, my dad is probably the most genuine person I know.  You may not agree with everything he believes, and there will be heated moments: But never once have you had to worry about him saying one thing when he really thought another.  He has always been my harshest critic as well as my biggest supporter.  He’s always put others in front of himself – and in the moments where he goes off, it’s almost always because someone’s asking for it. He can play off being a tough guy… but I’ve seen him in a room with animals: He has a soft side just like everyone else.  While he jokes that he’s never wrong, he’s probably gone out of his way to flat out say “I was wrong for that and I’m sorry”, even when the other person wasn’t expecting it.  I’ve learned so much from him, and accountability is definitely one of those traits.

Which leads me to life lessons:  If I had to use one sentence to sum up what I’ve learned from him, it’d be easy: “How does your actions affect others?”  When I was younger, this wasn’t always a good thing.  If someone was supposed to give me a ride somewhere and they bailed, I would call to see if he could help me out.  He’d usually harp on me a bit, and I’d roll my eyes and think “This wasn’t my fault” instead of the reality of the situation: It wasn’t his either.  After he was done, he’d always come through.

That’s probably what makes my dad most special – he ALWAYS comes through.  We are both alpha males.  We’ve butted heads constantly.  There were times where I felt he blew up about something that wasn’t that big of a deal, and in reality, it was more about the principle of the matter than anything else (I know, talk about being my father’s son on that one).  But when I really screwed up and called him knowing I was in deep, it was like he had a sixth sense for knowing when I already had the lesson, and he’d bail me out.  

Throughout the years, I realized that this works not just for negative actions, but positive ones as well. I am confident when I say most people are better off for having known my father - and I make it a goal to leave the same positive impact on others. He is without a doubt one of if not my biggest role model.

Time and time again, during our best and worst times, he’d re-enforce the fact that when it’s all said and done, he loved me, was and always will be in my corner.  Although I may not have always appreciated it in the heat of the moment in my adolescence, it shouldn’t have needed to be said: His actions spoke louder than words ever would.

Happy birthday to my hero – here’s to many more!

4 years later

Sadly the last time I updated this blog was the same time last year... perhaps this will get me going again because I do miss writing.

4 years ago today Dave Hildebrandt passed away at the age of 29. Looking back at my previous posts, as I write a little reflection at this time every year, I have spoken a lot about his actions and our relationship when he was coaching me at Newbury. I figured it would be a good change of pace to talk a little bit more about the present and how his influence still plays a role in my life to this day (and most likely will until the day I too pass).

I rarely talk about religion: I will not change that with this post. However, I will say that after doing some soul-searching I found myself living by the mantra 'No regrets: It is too late. No worries: It is too soon'. I have been known to stretch myself out a little too thin at times - that is largely in part to the wake-up call upon Dave's passing that tomorrow's promised to no one, regardless of how young you are. I don't fear death: I do fear having my last thought be the realization that I could have done more before leaving.

When I first heard the news about Dave, I was pretty numb to it: Calls began pouring in asking if I was OK. I brushed them off politely as if it wasn't a big deal - but when I first stepped back on campus, I found myself wandering aimlessly in-between classes as normally I'd probably kill time in 'The Dungeon' as we called his office. During the remainder of my time at Newbury I still passed through that office when going to classes as a semi-tribute to him (The young female that replaced him probably just thought I had a crush on her - which I did - but consider that reason 1a that I would pass through each day). I played it off when I was with people but I'd go back to my room feeling very angry and having a lot of questions about why things happened the way they did.

The sad reality is, as long as I'm alive I'll never know why he had to leave us so early: What I finally came to terms with (with the help of a couple people that I was lucky to have as a support group) is that during his time he changed my life for the better in SO many ways, and had I not been graced with his presence I don't know where I'd be today, but odds are it wouldn't have been pretty. And while he may not be able to continue to change lives in the flesh, his life lessons can be passed on through the rest of us whose lives he touched. Since his passing, I have taken every opportunity possible to see the best in people and make sure that they know any ceiling they put on their abilities (volleyball or anything else for that matter) are self-imposed. I try focusing on the positive and appreciate every day I have here - while I don't fear death I constantly find myself reminded that you never know what tomorrow will bring your way.

There's a scene at the end of Saving Private Ryan where an elder Private Ryan looks at his wife while visiting the grave of his mentor and tells her to tell him he's lived a good life. While I'm hopefully a long way from that point, I can't help but relate in some ways. I find myself able to battle the anger from his death by trying to pass on the lessons he taught me both on and off the court - knowing other people are able to get the same results it a little easier knowing that he still lives on in me and everyone else that he served as a mentor.

I'm rambling now... Time to wrap it up. Simply put: I get jaw drops when people find out I was a soft-spoken insecure 20 year old that had an average-at-best work ethic. Meeting Coach Dave was a pivotal moment in my life to change all of that. It was a privilege to have known him even if for a short time-period, and I'll take/share his life lessons until I hopefully see him again.

Rest in Peace Dave - I hope I make you proud. Never forgotten.

Coach Dave

Amazing how fast three years can go by. As a matter of fact, in three years I'll be 29 - the same age Coach David Hildebrandt was when he was taken from us on August 3rd, 2008. For whatever reason, I find myself constantly reminded of my mortality when I think about that statistic. I do my best to live in the now and leave a positive impact on as many people as possible knowing that.

The sport of volleyball has played a huge role in my life both on and off the court. It's allowed me to travel all over the country, and in one situation even overseas to Europe. Almost all (including my current one) my jobs have come from connections I've made through volleyball. A large amount of my dating life can be attributed to meeting girls while playing the sport. Most importantly though, I've made a lot of incredible friends and learned a lot of lessons from the socializing with players and coaches. In the 2 years I played for him, Dave played a pivotal role for both those categories. Dave made me a better player, a better coach, and a better person. He taught me some lessons intentionally, others accidentally (or so I think - perhaps he was better than I realize).

Dave taught me the value of hard work. He inherited a program that lost 56 matches in a row over a span of 3 years. They were one of two men's volleyball programs in the country who had to play in a gym off campus that wasn't their own. His budget was low while tuition for incoming students was high. You can look at a lot of low-level Division III institutions and see that they simply want a coach that can stay out of the red, keep the kids in class, and keep from embarrassing the program. And honestly, Dave could have done that and probably have kept his job at Newbury as long as he wanted. But he didn't. He recruited relentlessly, finally getting a couple solid recruits and building a strong foundation out of them. He used the internet to find kids from far away during a time where many people weren't doing it. The program started to win games, and he continued to build on it. When he left, the team had finished 6th in the nation, and even after his departure (and despite the best efforts of the coaches that have followed him - and I feel no guilt in saying that) - his recruiting classes never finished with less than 20 wins. His last class graduated this last spring, and in my mind, it will not be the same until someone with the same drive and determination comes in with the same drive and determination he brought every day.

(Before I go to the next point, the only coach I've played a sport for that I would put in front of Dave, my father, drilled the same lesson home. Dave just solidified it in my older years. Needed to be addressed before someone relayed this back to him and my phone began ringing angrily :))

Dave taught me the importance of effort. More specifically, never setting a ceiling and continuing to raise the bar. He certainly didn't coach us all the same way, and doing so would have been catastrophic. What Dave did do for all of us equally is constantly push us to be better and better. Sometimes, I felt he was being hardest on me when I was playing some of my best ball: It was as if he had a sense that I could become complacent, and wanted to make sure that I never lost that drive to continually improve. Dave may not (OK - he didn't. He knew the x's and o's of the game, but his ability to teach mechanics was sketchy at best) have had the highest volleyball IQ, but the players on that team that bought into what he was selling can look themselves in the mirror and know the made the most of their time with him to be the best they could be. I look at film from my first matches and Newbury compared to my last, and the transformation is astounding. His ability to not let me settle was crucial in that process.

Dave taught me about agreeing to disagree. I know I've touched on this in the past, but for those that haven't read it, during my time playing for Dave I was labeled as being a bit of a "golden boy" as he didn't chew me out too often at practices/in games. Part of the reason this was the case was because I spent hours each day in his office between classes, constantly talking ball and arguing back and forth about our philosophies, what was going on with the team, things going on with me individually, or whatever the hot topic was that day. We were passionate about how we felt, and we were stubborn: I would say we agreed on 25% at best. However, once practice time came and we hit the floor, I didn't hold his opinions against him, and he didn't hold mine against me. I respected his role as coach, and while he certainly didn't have to, he never took anything I said or did in that office and used it against me at practice. I don't think I've ever had a coach more willing to butt heads, yet able to avoid letting it affect the player/coach relationship on the court. Of all the compliments I've received during my years coaching, many have said that I'm very personable, and that is a direct result of how Dave interacted with me during some of my most opinionated years of my life. A lesser coach could have absolutely botched that situation.

Dave taught me about forgiveness. After he told me on the phone he was leaving for Elms, I all but hung up on him, giving him one-word answers the rest of the conversation and a cold goodbye. I was lucky enough to be able to visit Boston the last week he was working at Newbury, and stopped in his office on his last day. He could have shut the door on me, or blown me off, but he didn't. I sat in the chair across from him as I always did, and we talked about everything that came to our minds for 2 hours. I had to leave, shook his hand, thanked him for everything and wished him luck at Elms, and was out the door. A week later he was gone, and that was the last time I spoke with Dave.

I struggle with his death to this day. Not a week goes by where something doesn't remind me of him, or that I don't want to call him on the phone and ask for advice. And that was after he gave me a little closure by not holding my selfishness against me that last visit. I had no right to be angry at him for doing what he would have wanted us to do in his position. He understood that better than I could at the time. Had I not seen him that last time, my demons regarding his passing would have been a LOT more vicious.

I am not very religious anymore, but I do believe we all serve a purpose and impact others with everything we do. It is easy for me in my weaker moments to get angry and wonder why Dave was taken from us before he even turned 30. In the big picture, I will probably never get the answer for that. Instead, I simply know that finding me and bringing me to Newbury had an impact on my life that I could never repay him for, even if he was still here. While he is no longer around, his lessons resonate in my life.

Rest in peace Dave. You are never forgotten.

Blogging - Take 2.

Amazing how things can change so quickly. At the age of 26, I look back on posts I've written over the years and how my goals and views on life have changed. After a long struggle to find a new title after coming to terms with the fact that I would not have a career as an indoor player, I have decided on one of my favorite John Wooden quotes (all quotes actually) of all time.

Although the blog will continue to focus on volleyball, I will also open up a bit more about personal happenings compared to what I had done previously. Volleyball is a huge part of my life - it's brought many people into my lives that have made me a better person, and I hope that I have been able to have a similar influence on many teammates, players I've coached, or simply players I've shared the court with. After putting my two weeks in at Mercer (more on that shortly), I was able to find a job 9 days later because of networking I had done in the volleyball community back in Chicago. As a matter of fact, while I have been lucky to be employed the majority of my life, almost every job I have gotten has been due to friendships I have made in the community - and I've even been able to return the favor by helping others obtain employment as well.

I've had many highs and many lows - and the valleys have been deep. However, I've always been able to keep focused on the present and push through, usually with the aid of others close to me, or even simply finding inspiration through reading other people's experiences. I hope to perhaps use this blog as a way to return the favor.

For now, let me give a cliff notes' version of the last 6 months and then I'll go into more detail next time (REALLY gonna try to make posts daily - but I know I've said that before). Realized Division I Coaching was not for me, put my two weeks in, came home, found a job a week and a half later (which I LOVE) - currently living in LaGrange Park with stepdad but hoping to move to Naperville in the near future. Played indoor this spring, slowly started to get back into shape, playing sand now and feeling like I'm having a pretty good season. Working on registering a business that runs camps/clinics/tournaments. Happier than I've been in a long time.

More to come later!

Coaching at the Division I level: Off the Court

I'll skip the usual apology for laziness regarding updating the blog: I've actually had MANY situations that I'd like to write about, but to be honest I feel it's best to keep it in private at times, so I've been doing quite a bit of self-reflection. If you're curious feel free to msg me privately and I'll tell you all about it.

In August, I packed my car up and drove down to Georgia to begin graduate classes/assistant coaching for Mercer University, a Division I program that competes in the Atlantic Sun conference. At 25, this is probably the highest level of coaching I can get to, and I was very excited for the opportunity.

As someone who has coached junior college and Division III programs, I really was unsure of what to expect. Looking back on this last month, it was probably the opposite of what I expected (not that it's a bad thing). The first thing that blew my mind was how much heavier the administrative side is. Setting up pre-season, tape exchanges, itineraries for weekends we travel as well as other office work takes up the majority of my time, compared to my other gigs where as an assistant I was basically at practices and that was the extent of what I did. I've learned an incredible amount in the 5 weeks I've been here, and feel that when I leave the school for other ventures, I will be much more knowledgeable that I was when I arrived.

The facilities are amazing: The girls play in a huge arena, the training facilities are top notch, and the workout room has everything they need (it's a bit small for big teams like Lacrosse, but with 15 players we have no space issues). They along with every other team have their own lounge (we share ours with softball, so technically I suppose it isn't all ours), with nice couches and a projector screen to watch tv or game film. I wish these girls could come back with me on a visit to Newbury to truly appreciate how lucky they are, because there's not much "wanting" being done around here!

Classes started 2 weeks ago and I'm enjoying it - it's a lot of work, but the class sizes are small, the teachers are much more personable, and the classmates are very engaged. It's rough in the aspect of you have class once a week from 4:30-8:45 at night, but I do enjoy how that gives me more time to focus on coaching. I'd be lying if I didn't say it's tough to find a balance, but my teachers understand and I'm doing my best to find a happy medium.

The weather here is wonderful - hot and humid, and although some of the locals don't like the humidity I'll take this over snow any day. The only gripe I have with Macon is the bugs... cockroaches are generally accepted here. Creep the hell out of me. I don't think that'll be one of the things I get used to. I've only found 2 in my apartment, I caught one and launched him outside, the next one wasn't so lucky. Nor will any future ones that decide they want to free-load off of us.

I do miss home. There's no doubt about it. The people here are VERY nice, but once I get done with my obligations, all I want to do is go to my room and correspond with people back in Chicago, which is odd because I didn't feel that way at all in Boston. Perhaps it's a bunch of events that took place while I was home the last 7 months, but it'd take a hell of a job offer for me not to head back there once my time's done here.

Although I have more to write, Joe Trinsey (former college opponent who gave me a nudge to update the blog) had a good idea for me to break updates up into separate posts rather than be as long-winded as usual. I'll take his advice. Next time I'll talk a little more about what happens on the court!

Summer Recap

Although I have been terrible with the lack of updates this summer, discovering that a few of my relatives have blogs of their own and catching up on their lives has inspired me to take the time to give a cliff-notes version of how the summer has gone (their blogs have also re-inforced the fact that my blog is UGLY on the eyes - I may be contacting them for a little help on cleaning it up!). With about 2 weeks left before I begin the next chapter of my life, it's time to reflect on the last few months.

Graduate School: Although the process took MUCH longer than expected, I am officially accepted into the Masters of Collaborative Education program at Mercer University in Macon, GA! I'll serve as the Graduate Assistant for their women's volleyball team, which competes at the Division I level. I leave in two weeks, and will be beginning my duties upon arriving the first week of August. I am sad to leave Chicago yet again, but am very excited for the chance to coach this team. The coach and I share similar philosophies, the players are dedicated and are hungry to bounce back from last season, and the campus is gorgeous. I look forward to helping the team reach its goals!


Volleyball (Player): It has been the most successful season of my brief doubles career by far. Started it off with a personal-best in a pro tournament 7th place in Michigan. Took a 9th at my first EVP tournament of the season. Took 3rd in the Open division of the Volleywood tournament, and had my partner's leg not decided to cramp we may have won it the way we were playing. Won both co-ed tournaments I played, and plan on 3-peating this Sunday. The last tournament of the year for me is the Corona Wide Open on July 31st, and although the competition is going to be tough, I feel that my partner is strong and the old-school rules with the big court will cater to our playing style.

This is the first season I was able to get in the sand earlier than May, and boy did it pay off. I've been able to practice with some of Chicago's best talent, and have taken games off of players I couldn't touch the last few years. Although my quest for a blocker didn't work out at the beginning of the season, I believe I've given myself a good enough reputation where I'll have options the next sand season (getting one for my last tournament is something I'm definitely excited for!). Perhaps most exciting is the fact that I may have a sponsor that will allow me to travel and compete on the AVP tour next season, which would be a BIG step forward. Keep your fingers crossed!

Summer Clinics: I ran a ton of lessons this summer, and really enjoyed watching players progress. Last weekend I played a tournament where a few of my players made their doubles debut, and one team won their division while the other took a 3rd place. It was great to see them get some positive results from all the hard work they put in, and my only regret is that I won't get to watch them progress the next 2 years. With their work ethic, I have no doubt they'll continue to move up!

Although I was hoping for a longer post, I've got to get moving - but I have some other thoughts cluttering my mind which I'll share in the near future. Until next time...

2 last things:

1) As mentioned earlier, while I like the content I put in this blog, it could use a facelift regarding how it looks. Anyone have any experience with this that would be willing to help?

2) Most of you probably have heard the saying "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans". Obviously, things have changed a bit since I first started writing this blog. Although I'm not against the possibility, my plans for the future at the moment do not include playing indoor in Europe. That being said, I could use a new name for the blog. Suggestions are welcome :)