My eighth-grade gym class was my first period for the entire year. Depending on the season, we were either out on the field, in the gym, or in the pool. Yes, Harding had its very own indoor pool. It didn't matter if it was hot outside—the pool was cold, and in the winter it was really cold. Some of the guys swore that there were particles of ice some mornings on the surface of the pool.
Our gym coach was a big, strong guy. His goal in life was to help each of us go from boyhood to manhood in nine months! He worked us hard but was also encouraging. If you followed his rules, things were great. If not, that was a different story.
Brian was a kid trying to figure out life. In eighth grade, he tried hanging out in the outside courtyard before school and at lunch time with other guys also trying to figure out who they were. The composite picture of this group was like Fonzie from Happy Days without the cool. Why did they hang out in the courtyard? To smoke. There was no age limit on purchasing cigarettes, and the Surgeon General's report on the dangers of smoking had not yet been released, so it made them feel really "cool."
Monday morning 8:00 a.m. gym class pool days were the worst. In the winter, all the heat in the building was turned off over the weekend, and the custodians didn't get the heat going until after 8. If there was ever ice on the pool, it was on one of those January Mondays.
On one of those mornings, Coach lined us all up around the pool. Apparently, the previous Friday, Coach had seen Brian smoking in the courtyard. It didn't take the Surgeon General to convince Coach that smoking was bad for you, and he consistently made his feelings known. As we stood around the pool, Coach called Brian up to stand by him. Brian made two mistakes. The first was denying that he smoked, and the second was acting "cool" as he walked up to Coach. At that time, spanking was allowed in the schools, and Coach had a paddle that looked like a tennis racket but was made of solid wood. Then Coach asked Brian to stand with his toes just over the edge of the pool. With one swat, Coach sent Brian flying halfway across the pool.
Brian may have continued to smoke. I really never knew, but I never saw him in the courtyard again.
That was a different time. Teachers and coaches were considered an extension of the parenting circle. If I got in trouble at school, I got in trouble at home for getting in trouble at school. We respected our teachers. When I was home for summer break after my junior year of college, I began working out at a new gym, and guess who was also working out there? Coach. I saw him almost every day, and our relationship grew over the summer. We talked about Harding, some of the students, and Brian. One day as we sat in the locker room after a workout, he brought up Brian. We talked about that "day." Coach knew Brian was on a dangerous path and that he didn't have a great home life. The "super-swat" was to get his attention. Brian left Harding the next year when his family moved. I never saw him again.
I've often wondered what happened to him and if Coach had made a difference in his life. What I didn't really understand until that summer working out with Coach was that Coach loved us, and the tough love he showed us came from his heart—not his hand and the paddle.
Next week let's look at football games, pep rallies, pep club sweaters, and running.