Fixing the College Recruiting Process - Both for Athletes and Non-Athletes.

Years ago, if you had told me I would be working for a juniors club, I would have said you were crazy. Truth be told, I've never been a fan of the club culture - while the reps at a young age are important, I felt that the quality of the product many kids were receiving outside of the "elite" teams was less than satisfactory, especially in regards to giving guidance about looking for colleges to attend.  Luckily, I found a program that, while smaller, had depth from top-to-bottom with their coaching staff, and gave me free reign to meet with all families face-to-face and talk about their personal situations.

Although I'm still relatively young (I need to use that statement while I still have time!), my experience has been pretty diverse - as a student I attended a big state school, a community college, and a private institution. As a coach, I coached NJCAA, Division III, and Division I. While it was a roller coaster of a ride, it gave me a pretty good perspective to bring to the table when speaking with students. The results have been great, and it really makes me hope to one day see a shift in the way we prep high school students for the next chapter of their lives.

According to the National Association of College Admission Counseling, 1/3 (I had read statistics as high as 1/2, but 1/3 seems more accurate to me) of College Students transfer from their original institution. I myself fall into that category. To this day, I remember the dialogue between me and my counselor at my high school:

Counselor: What do you want to do?
Me: I don't know - I'm good at math and I'd like to make money.
Counselor: Actuarial Sciences is the #2 profession in the country and is math-based.
Me: Great! What schools have that?
Counselor: Illinois State has a great program for it.

That is almost word-for-word the conversation we had - I visited ISU on a sunny day, took a tour where they told me all the great things about the school, and my decision was made. One year later, I looked my parents in the eye for the first time in my life truly feeling like a failure, uncertain what I wanted to do, but knowing I didn't want to go back.

What I WISH my counselor would have said was "You're good at math - do you enjoy math?" or "Actuarial Sciences is a very lucrative industry - you'll have to work harder than you've probably ever worked in your entire life, and the level of difficulty is high - are you willing to dedicate yourself to the field?". I was very naive at a young age, and didn't have anyone pushing me to really think about what I was passionate about - it was "You're great at math, you'll do something with that field". I've come to learn that talent only goes so far if you don't have a passion for something.

As adults, when we buy a car, we have a purpose in mind - something with good gas mileage, something that can carry more passengers, or maybe something flashy. We take it for a test drive - some of us take it to a mechanic we trust to inspect it. As a potential home-owner, we know exactly what purpose we want the house to serve - and if we're novices, perhaps we ask a contractor or electrician we know to take a look at places we're looking at and give us their opinion. Yet for high school students, rarely do we take them outside their comfort zones and REALLY make them think about what they want from their college experience before starting their search. Why aren't we doing more to help them?

We need to do a better job of truly preparing our high school students for researching what they're looking for in regards to college - even if they may be uncomfortable with some of the questions. From what I see, most clubs are using their college liaisons to just throw their kids out on the market, and see which schools show interest. I firmly believe it should be the other way around - we should be helping our kids research schools to find one worthy of their attendance, one that fits their wants and needs.

When I sit with our athletes, I ask them basic questions about what they'd want from their "Dream School".  I get "I don't know" for a lot of the things I ask them - geographic location, field of study, school size, academic vs. athletic balance, philosophy of why they play their sport as well as what they want to get out of their college athletic career experience. And "I don't know" is OK - as long as they're starting to think about it. I've gotten to meet with many of our junior/senior athletes and their parents, and most of them tell me a lot of the information I gave them is brand new to them.

I will discuss scholarships at a later post. If you have a child or you are a potential collegiate athlete, make sure you're doing the work to think about what YOU want from your college experience and then research - don't just let schools spoon-feed you information. The more you ask questions pertaining to your wants/needs, the more certain you'll be that you're making the right choice when you commit. You'll be better off for it!

How I'd Like to See our Domestic Beach Volleyball Tours Function.

I have had this in my head for years - with the topic of the new FIVB rules trending, I felt it was as good of a time as ever to start some conversation on this subject matter. Below is a very basic thought process on my end on my dream for the domestic tours. I am sure there are variables that people will be happy to point out that aren't listed/being considered. Here's my request: My intention is to stir the pot a bit - to create conversation, CONSTRUCTIVELY, in order to talk about how we can truly "Grow the Game" - a term I hear thrown around a lot lately. You have every right to disagree with my thought process - I challenge you to think about it and make a proposition of your own on how we can help get our sport to where it used to be in the 80's/early 90's - and even further than that.

As this summer slowly but surely approaches, I am eagerly awaiting the schedules for the NVL/AVP. I will travel and play a few of the qualifiers, and if we play well enough hopefully we'll be able to get into a main draw - a bucket list goal I'd like to accomplish this season. That being said, I go into it knowing that I'll be thankful to break even when the season is done, as the travel/hotel/entry fee costs pile up quickly, and the prize money is very scarce unless you're constantly in the top 5-10 teams in the country.

I have heard so many people gripe about the prize money, yet I don't hear a lot of talk about how to solve it. What's worse in my opinion is the fact that the tours do not seem to be learning from previous mistakes. Don't get me wrong - Donald Sun is doing a great job getting the AVP back on the map, and I respect/appreciate the fact that he's ponying up a lot of his money for the time being to boost prize money, with a few of the top players rumored to be making a steady salary. However, when he leaves and his money goes with him, are we going to have a business model in place that will be able to have longevity?

The #1 thing I hear about why we don't have $ in our sport is the lack of a TV deal. I think we need to go a layer deeper than that. We don't have the amount of fans regularly engaged in following the tour to command a TV deal. The reality is, 99 percent of volleyball players in this country probably couldn't name players outside of Karch/Misty/Kerri/Todd/Dalhausser. We have done a TERRIBLE job of getting our players' names out there. We can't get people to pay money to attend events unless they are die-hard fans. How do we fix this?

In Chicago, I go to Wrigley to support the Cubs (so yes, I'm a blind optimist, perhaps more blind than optimistic), I go to the United Center to support the Bulls. The city has a feeling of identity through the teams they support, and they cheer them on. Celebrations occur when they're successful, and the city seems to be booming anytime we're on a playoff run headed to a potential championship.

When common fans go to see the AVP, they rarely have an understanding of the storylines - they don't know rivalries, and they can't relate to the players. They wander around, watch matches that happen to be going on, and perhaps will stumble over to center court to see the semis/finals. While seeing the level of play and athleticism is awe-inspiring, it isn't enough to warrant a price for admission for most people.

That being said, I think our sport has an advantage on almost every other sport in the world - our top players are SO accessible and willing to be a part of its community. By the end of the day, a couple of the best players in the world past and present will have read this post simply because I posted it on facebook, volleytalk, and a couple pages. I have emailed Olympians and gotten well-written responses the same day. This summer I had the pleasure of training with a former Olympian because my friend knew him and he was in town - Imagine being a basketball player and having someone say "Scottie Pippen is in town - would you like to train with him for 2 hours?" - that was the equivalent of what I was able to experience.

One thing that is going well for our sport - Juniors is BOOMING. My club had 80+ kids do it and it went incredibly well - I expect that number to possibly double if not more this year. There's no drama for playing time. Players get to work on their overall skill-set. They learn anticipation and become more aggressive. Conditioning is intense, but the workload is easier on the joints. For families, they can set their own tournament schedule, and it's much more fun for them to be at a beach instead of in a loud gym all day.

The thing that worries me is I think all the tours are looking at this as a cash grab - and between USAV/AAU/AVP/NVL/VolleyAmerica, everyone is playing tug-of-war to get a bigger piece of the pie. What I'd like to see is tours using this as a way to both increase player visibility, help improve the quality of coaching these juniors are getting, and increase attendance at pro events - THEN we will have a product that warrants more sponsorships and eventually bigger TV deals. But it will take work from all parties - administration, players, clubs, etc.

Currently, players play for prize money every tournament. Aside from the TOP players, no one is getting steady income. It simply isn't realistic for more than a handful of players to support themselves playing this sport without another source of income.

My Dream Tour? Players run camps/clinics for kids/adults Monday-Thursdays all over the city that the upcoming tournament is in. Add 10 bucks to the camp fee, and include a pass to the event with the camp. This does a few things: 1) Kids start to get to know players - when they go to events, they're not going just to watch volleyball, they're going to watch the person that taught them how to pass, how to serve, etc. 2) It helps improve the quality of what we're teaching, and the tour could provide a specific lesson plan to train the players to teach so that we're giving them a solid foundation in doubles. I am not hesitant to say that a LOT of clubs in the area, even top-tier indoor ones, do not have coaches with steady sand experience, and have heard many people tell me how they're being trained for sand like indoor, which I think only will hurt our potential to grow the sport at a time where we have a great opportunity to thrive. 3) It increases attendance to events, which will give the tour a better opportunity to market themselves to potential sponsors.

It would take a LOT of planning by the tour to schedule everything. Players would have to be trained to coach - not only for volleyball but also how to communicate with youth/teenagers. You may have situations where a player's demeanor prevents them from coaching - they just don't get a cut then. But if this was done, you could give players their travel stipend, hotels, HEALTH INSURANCE. Eventually, perhaps a salary. Some people will also say that players won't want to be on the road that much - remember, before the multi-million dollar contracts, the athletes in the 60's/70's flew coach, played for pennies, and typically had to work other jobs in the off-season. We live in a culture of entitlement - our players (myself) would have to work hard - but maybe that would pave the way for generations to come. I know I'd do it if I knew it would.

Aside from that, I think our sport can be the sport that provides TRUE role models for its youth. I read an article this morning about a prominent NFL player knocking his wife unconscious. We hear about athletes wanting more money, domestic disputes, sometimes murder - I could be biased, but I feel our athletes are so much more personable (perhaps it's the low income) - why wouldn't parents prefer them as role models compared to the diva that's holding out of his contact because they want more than 5 million dollars a year?

Again, I would love to hear other people's perspectives on how to fix it. Not why this wouldn't work,. but why something else could be better. We have a great group of ambassadors for this game. The amount of junior participation in our sport is growing and growing. If done properly, there is no reason we can't work our way towards  a sport that gives its juniors a great education on the game, as well as provides a comfortable living for those that dedicate so much of the body and soul to their craft. 

Why Bill Russell Should Be Celebrated More by All Coaches/Athletes.

Recently, LeBron James was interviewed and asked about who his "Mount Rushmore" of NBA players would include. He named Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, and Oscar Robertson, adding that he would for sure be in that group when his career was finished. Bill Russell, who I consider the greatest winner of the history of sports, proceeded to respond with this quote:

I admit I knew very little about Bill Russell aside from the statistic that he won 11 NBA Championships in 13 seasons until last year, when I watched this documentary on him. What impressed me about him wasn't just his success as an athlete, but the morals/values he stood for. For those that don't want to spend the time to watch that clip, here's what I hope you know about him:

He was the ultimate team player - figuring out how to make those around him better and adjust his style of play to best compliment those around him. The first thing he did when he joined the Celtics was scouted the team to figure out what their strengths/weaknesses were.


His biggest competitor was Wilt Chamberlain - people constantly try to talk to Bill as if it was a rivalry. Russell refuses to buy into it, always talking about how good Wilt was instead of focusing on the fact that he won 9 more championships than Chamberlain. My favorite quote regarding this: "Wilt and I were not rivals... we were competitors. You see, in a rivalry, there is a victor and a vanquished. He was never vanquished - so we were competitors."

When Muhammad Ali refused to go to war in 1967, Bill Russell was on the forefront with other African-American athletes to speak out for him. Many people feel that Russell was the first African-American athlete to be outspoken for equal rights. He was actually a Pall-Bearer for Jackie Robinson. Speaking about Robinson: "I had enormous respect for him. My attitude was that Jackie took us from Point A to Point B. I want to go from Point B to Point C. It was my inheritance from Jackie, to do things to seize that opportunity."

He had been invited to speak with Martin Luther King Jr. where he did his "I Have a Dream" Speech - but respectfully declined as while they had done one year of preparations, he had not done anything. He instead sat in the front row.

Barack Obama said that Russell's speech at MLK Jr's funeral inspired him. "The President of the United States, said 'in 40 years in a negro could be elected President. But with the atmosphere as it is today, it won't happen for 400 years.' For you young people here that would like to be President of the United States, if you'd like to don't give it up. You don't have to give it up. Because in spite of everything, I want you to remember one thing. You can do anything that you want to do, if you want to do it bad enough." Recently he received the Medal of Freedom, which is the highest award an American Citizen can be awarded.

He did not attend the Celtics game that they retired his number, and this quote sums him up as well as any he's ever said: "I don't need any validation. I played, and I played. And that trip and that experience was enough to last me a lifetime."

The man has a ton of individual awards, but all he ever seems to take pride in is talking about his team's success. He has dominated his craft on the court, as well as changed the world for the better off of it. Thank you for everything you've done Mr. Russell.

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.