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Ignition: The Day Your Life Changes

The Legacy of a Hero

I was 15 years old when my life was changed forever by a single event:
The death of my father.
I’m 50 years old now, and I still think about him every day.
I’ll never forget it.

My dad was the hero of my life. He was my guidepost and the one I turned to for all my direction. He certainly was not without flaw. Who among us is? But he was clearly the leader of our family, and he loved his wife and children more than life. Looking back, he seemed to be driven by a relentless desire to make sure his kids had a better life than he, and that they avoided many of the same mistakes he had made in his younger days.

Dad was a great athlete, and fun-loving guy, but apparently he had not been the most dedicated student. The story was that he would often skip school and spend entire days playing pinball at the local soda shop/drug store. He was an all-state running back for his Eastern Kentucky high school, and he had several scholarship offers to play college football. But because his grades were not up to par, he couldn’t meet the admissions requirements. He was a very smart man (he had a 4.0 GPA when he eventually went to college almost 20 years later), but the effort and focus weren’t there.

After high school he joined the Air Force, married my mother, and started a family. As he matured, and had kids of his own, he seemed to regret having eliminated many opportunities in life because of his lack of focus in high school. Subsequently, he insisted that my brothers and I do well in school. On our report cards, A’s were expected, B’s were reluctantly tolerated, and C’s were forbidden. “A ‘C’ means you’re ‘average’, and no one in this family will be allowed to be ‘average’”, he would often say.

Changed Forever

The day he died was like any other Monday. Nothing special.

We had won our first round play off football game on Friday night. I was a sophomore wide receiver and had a big first down catch to sustain the game winning drive.

Dad had been playing basketball with my brother and I all day Sunday. He was 36 years old, and he was in pretty good shape.

He had taken a day off from work to till a garden in our back yard. He also wanted to start a garden in my Grandmothers back yard. I guess he thought we could save on some groceries if we could grow our own vegetables. He rented a tiller for $5 and wanted to get both gardens done in one day so he could save being charged an additional $5 if he kept it past 5:00pm. He pushed himself real hard.

For some reason, our Monday football practice was scheduled for later under the lights at the stadium. So after school, I stopped by the auto parts store to buy some replacement tail pipes for my 1968 VW Bug.Dad had promised to help me with the job when I got home.

I pulled into the driveway, and as I walked toward the house, I saw an ambulance coming down the street. That was unusual, so I went inside to tell my parents about it. I opened the door and shouted, “Hello!” but got no response. Then I heard a noise from the master bedroom in the back of our small home. As I entered my parents bedroom, life as I knew it ended.

My dad…my hero…the strongest man in the world was lying on the floor lifeless. My mother and older brother were trying to render CPR. I quickly realized the ambulance was for him and raced for the front door! As I turned the corner from the hallway to the foyer I collided full force with the EMT as he was coming through the door. We both fell to the floor. We quickly recovered and I said, “Back there! Please help him!!”

More EMTs arrived and I have never felt more helpless or vulnerable in my life. I had no idea what to do. The world began spinning fast. I grabbed the family dog, a miniature dachshund named Junior, and sat in the front yard under a tree, my knees tucked up under my chin rocking back and forth, repeating under my breath over and over again, “Please help him.”

After a while, the front door opened and they brought my father out to the front porch on a stretcher. They were about to lift the stretcher down the 3 steps to the sidewalk, but suddenly they stopped and began working frantically. As one of them stepped to the side, I could see my father’s face. I saw him take two desperate gasps for air, and then watched in horror as the life left his body.

They said it was a heart attack.

That moment….those two breaths… have defined my life for the past 35 years.

The Angel

Later in the evening, my head football coach, Eddie Weldon, came by the house to offer his condolences. He put his arm around my shoulder and said the most perfect words he could have ever spoken. I remember it like it was 5 minutes ago.

“Randy, I knew your dad well. He was a good man and I know what made him tick. Everything in his life was done for you, your mother, and your brothers. I also know that he would be heart broken if he knew that his passing affected you in a way that made you unable to continue pursuing your dreams. The best way for you to honor him is to press on and to dedicate yourself to becoming the kind of person he always hoped you would be.”

I have no idea where Coach Weldon is now. But that night, he saved my life.

That thought has been the driving force in my life ever since.

In the discipline of psychology it’s called “Ignition”.

Author Daniel Coyle, in The Talent Code, provides a long list of historically eminent, world-class achievers, political leaders, scientists, artists, poets, authors, and athletes who lost a parent at an early age. He suggests that the early loss of a parent often triggers “a primal cue: you are not safe….This signal can alter a child’s relationship to the world, redefine his identity and (act as) a springboard of immense compensatory energy. It can nurture the development of a personality robust enough to overcome the many obstacles and frustrations standing in the path of achievement.”

I have often referred to James Allen’s 1912 classic As a Man Thinketh in which the author declares, “Man attracts that which he is.”

Since my father’s death, I have been intrigued by the many times I have found myself involved with people who, like me, have lost a parent at an early age.

My wife of 25 years lost her mother to cancer at the age of 8. I know she thinks about her mother as often as I think about my father. She is now the best mother and the finest lady I know.

When he was 9 years old, my youngest son’s best friend at the time, Justin, lost his mother to cancer. She was beloved in our community, and Justin was clearly dealt a severe blow by her loss. I drove Justin to our baseball practices 2-3 times per week for 3 years after his mother’s death. He hardly spoke for a year. Then one day, he just opened up.

“Coach”, he said, “Me and Jake got kicked out of class today.”

“Oh no”, I replied, “What happened?”

“Well, the teacher was talking about all the planets and she said ‘Uranus is a gas giant’. Me and Jake couldn’t stop laughing, so she threw us out of class.”

I broke up laughing and said, “Justin, buddy, I think I would have been kicked out of class too.”

Justin is a sophomore in high school now and was the starting shortstop on a team that advanced to the Florida 8a state championship game this past season. He completed the season having committed only one error.

I have reported in the past on my relationship with ARMory student Tyler Danish, chosen by the Chicago White Sox as the #55 overall pick in the 2013 MLB draft. Tyler’s dad died when he was 16.
At the viewing, I hugged him and through mutual tears, I repeated the exact same words Coach Weldon had spoken to me so many years ago. Since that day, Tyler has been like my fourth child. My three sons consider him a brother.

Ignition.

It’s a vital part of your development in life, and in baseball.

What sparks you?

What will it take to light the fire inside you that will cause you say “I’d better get busy”.
What will take to compel you to take action and get your baseball career and your life headed toward world-class achievement?

I have an idea.
If you’re a pitcher and you’re ready to get serious about your baseball career, pay close attention.

The ARMory can help you become world-class in baseball and in life.
That’s our culture.
Its what we do.
And we’ve attracted a bunch of guys who share the same values.

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