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.
Rest in peace Dave. You are never forgotten.
