Honoring Al Dennis – The Sun Will Come Up

Last fall I wrote an article about Al Dennis when the Baytown Sterling High School football field was named in his honor. That November day was my final time to speak with Coach Dennis. Today I gathered with my brother, my coaches, my teammates, Rangers younger and older, and with the Dennis family and friends to honor this life of deep significance.

There is no advanced math available by which we can quantify the impact he has made in the lives of his players and coaches. The lessons we learned in his program are part of us and our daily decision-making. Moreover, we have passed those values along to our own children and grandchildren. You simply cannot calculate such an effect when compounded over that many lives and over that many years.

How my heart rejoiced with every story shared today from the players who were legends in my life to those players who came after me. The stories also came from coaches, an NFL Hall of Famer and other Sun City friends, his grandson, and a famous TV personality. They were all fantastic.

However, the one I cannot get out of my mind is the story shared by a former student that did not play football. He shared that his father died when he was 14, and coaches Dennis and Kluch went out of their way to help him and show him humanity and compassion, making it possible for him to work an overnight job while still in high school. They showed him amazing respect and help allowing him to have a place to sleep while he worked and went to school. I regret not having been able to find this man after the service. I would love to get to know him.

Thank you to Scott Goodman and Martin Lemond for organizing us into a team that I am sure made Coach proud. Thank you both for your roles today in serving the family and all of us present.

Here is the story I shared today.

After my playing days were over in the fall of 1979, I watched my brother, Kelly, also play for the Sterling Rangers. I was the public address announcer for several years, including Kelly’s two varsity years (’81 and ’82). In the fall of 1982 Sterling had arguably one of the best two or three teams in school history. They had a legitimate shot at winning the state championship. After a satisfying first round win over LaPorte, they faced Beaumont Westbrook in the Astrodome. I got to announce that game, which was pretty special. My wife, Margot, was my spotter, as always.

I will not go into the details of that game, but anyone that was there will never forget it. This was prior to the high school overtime system in Texas for deciding tied games. Tied games at that time were subjected to a series of tiebreakers.

  • The game ended tied 7-7
  • Both teams were tied on penetrations inside the opponent’s 20 yard-line (which was the second tiebreaker)
  • That means the third tiebreaker would determine who advanced. Westbrook had two or three more first downs than Sterling.

They advanced and went on to win the state championship.

After the game, in the bowels of the Astrodome, I sat next to Kelly at his locker. He and his teammates were obviously upset at the result. Even though they had not lost, their season was over. Like them, I could not prevent the tears from coming. Coach Dennis came over and sat down next to me. He had just experienced what must have been one of the biggest disappointments of his coaching career, but he put his arm around me and with a smile said in that deep voice of his:

“Hey, Mr. Casey, the sun will come up tomorrow.”

You know what? It did!

That turned out to be the last game Coach Dennis coached. At that point he was ready to move on to his next challenge of leading schools and then school districts, at which he unsurprisingly excelled.

To Mrs. Dennis, Chad, Coleman, and the rest of the family, you know that Coach was a man of faith trusting in the big promises. I know it was his hope in eternal things that allowed him to remind us all that in the face of disappointments, the sun will come up tomorrow. I hope you find comfort in that. Thank you for sharing him with us!

Big Al: I Would Not Trade You

I played football under the Friday night lights in Baytown, Texas in the late 1970s. Most people think I am exaggerating when I tell them that we had 20,000 people watching our games against our crosstown rival. It is no exaggeration. Such was high school football in Texas in the 1970s. Our school had a lot of success in football in those days. We were not always the biggest, fastest, or most talented team, but we had some special advantages that other teams did not have. We had a system that made our team stronger than the sum of its individual parts.
 
It is my conviction that any great team has great leadership. We had great leadership. Our head coach was a man named Al Dennis. He is a legend in our little corner of the world. If he had coached longer, I am convinced that he would have gone down as one of the best Texas football coaches ever to roam the sidelines. But I am biased. Instead, after eleven years in coaching Al Dennis moved into school administration where, to no one’s surprise that knew him, he had a successful career guiding schools and school districts to excellence.
 
The first time I ever saw him I must have been a junior high football player. To me he seemed seven feet tall and in his fifties. In truth, he was not that tall and was only in his early thirties. He commanded so much respect that I would never have dared to refer to him the way many in our community did: Big Al. I guarantee you that was a term of endearment, but to me he was simply Coach Dennis.
 
His coaching philosophy permeated his coaching staff and was reinforced by the position coaches that worked with us on a daily basis. Coach Dennis had installed a system based upon discipline, precision, and teamwork. It took me a while to realize that my position coaches were truly Coach Dennis’ ambassadors representing what mattered most to him. He hired principled coaches that not only knew the game of football and the details of their position groups, but men who understood that the most important job they had was raising young men to be men of character.
 
There are many things I remember from those days playing football, but one of the things that really stands out to me is something that coach Dennis and his other coaches frequently told us. When we were facing an opponent that was believed to be more talented than we were, in the privacy of our own locker room just before we took the field he would tell us:
 
“I would not trade a single one of you for a single one of them.”
 
That always gave me incredible motivation.
 
This was not to knock the other guys. He is not that kind of person. It was to affirm us. He had spent the same long hot hours on the practice field that we had. He knew the level of investment we had in his program, and he believed in our hard work and in his own system to the point that he knew we would be successful regardless of who our opponent was. Coach saw in us attributes that he believed in and relied upon. He would take those attributes over raw natural talent. He had a relationship with us, not with them. It gave me real confidence to execute my assignment to the best of my ability. He was pulling for me to succeed, and he believed I could. That was enough for me. I certainly did not want to let him down.
 
Perhaps many coaches used that line about not trading us for them. Perhaps to you this it may seem like just another coaching gimmick. To me it was a statement of reality. I am grateful for that kind of wisdom. It is very affirming to have someone that you respect and love tell you that you are valuable enough that he would not trade you even for someone that might be considered to be “better” than you or more talented than you.
 
Coach Dennis taught much more than just football. While he had great success as a football coach, his former players will tell you that he cared about us as individuals. He knew that what happened in our lives beyond the football field would be more important then whether we won or lost on a given Friday night. He was coaching life and embedding life-long lessons in us.
 
I hope you will try to use Coach Dennis’ powerful approach with those that you care about. Perhaps it’s your children or your good friends or your spouse. When you tell them that you value them so much that you would never trade them in for a “better” version, it is very affirming. It empowers those who receive such affirmation.
 
On November 3, 2022 I and many other former Sterling football players, as well as a large group of people from our community,  gathered at the high school to celebrate Coach Dennis and to see the school’s football field named after him. This is an honor that is well deserved. I want to thank the Goose Creek ISD school board for making this happen. Thank you to Dr. O’Brien and his staff for putting it together. Thanks also to the City of Baytown for its proclamation of Coach Al Dennis Day. It was a blessing to be with Coach Dennis, Paula, and “little” Chad. It was also meaningful to be with Jimmy Creel and Richard Bethell, two of those men who coached under Al Dennis. They have also made a lasting positive impact on my life.
 
Coach Al Dennis, I am grateful for your investment in my life. There is one thing I want you to know: I would never trade you for anyone else’s coach. Every honor you receive is well-deserved. Thank you for everything, Coach!

Vinyl & Nostalgia

Nostalgia.

What is it?

Dictionary.com says it is

a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time”

Nostalgia can be unhelpful, even dangerous. For example, it is not good if all you ever do is wish for the past and use that to avoid the responsibility of the present and future. That type of nostalgia is not what I have in mind.

Nostalgia can be a good thing when it reminds you of some happy or important aspect of your story. Benjamin Franklin said “Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of.” When we look back on the way things were at some earlier stage of life, we are looking back on our time and how we spent it. Hopefully we did not squander it. This type of nostalgia is a type of remembering. It can be a way of remembering important values and practices.

Most of us get nostalgic when looking at old photos or watching old family movies, but it can happen at a moment’s notice in other ways as well. One of the pleasant surprises that I have experienced over the last few years is the revelation that one of my favorite musical artists is actually the niece of one of my former high school teammates. I get some degree of satisfaction knowing that I was a fan of her music before I knew who her uncle was. The fact that her uncle is David just makes it all the more enjoyable to me.

The artist is Grammy award-winning singer-songwriter Sarah Jarosz.

A couple of years ago we attended her concert in Austin. We got to meet her and tell her of my connection with David. For some reason that night I bought her latest album in vinyl instead of CD. I cannot explain why I did that because we had not had our old turntable set up and working for over twenty-five years.

More recently it was our pleasure to meet Sarah’s parents, Gary and Mary, as well. They are lovely people enjoying their daughter’s immense talent along with the rest of us.

This past weekend I dusted off the old stereo equipment, bought some new speakers and speaker wire, and connected the turntable. The first vinyl I played? You guess it – Undercurrent, Sarah’s LP (that stands for “Long Play” for you whippersnappers) that we bought that night.

This vinyl recording is new so it is missing the signature pops and crackles of an old dusty record, but it still takes me back to the day when this was how music was enjoyed. It reminded me of Darrell Starnes and the parties at his house. It reminded me of Guy Anderson and his love for music. It reminded me of strobe lights, black lights, the robot, and the friends I grew up with at a place and time that had a lot of good things about it. It was not perfect. That is one of the dangers of nostalgia – it often conveniently glosses over and idealizes a previous era.

So it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty good. Music was a big part of it, as it is for every generation from Big Band to Hip Hop. My friends and I were all adept at playing vinyl records, both 33 and 1/3s and 45s (look it up). My parents before me even played 78s. We all knew how to operate the equipment and where to buy the new albums.

There is something wonderful about the fact that my return to vinyl was inspired by a young artist who was not yet even born the last time my turntable was in operation. I am glad I did not toss our large vinyl collection. I am eager to break out the old stuff. To my friends from school I want to challenge you to find your old turntable and set it up. Bring out Black Sabbath, Kiss, Aerosmith (no, the old Aerosmith), Four Tops, the Eagles, and that other stuff that had your parents convinced you would never amount to anything.

Whether vinyl means anything to you or not, I want to encourage you to reflect on those good moments and people in your life and to enjoy the good things you have experienced. Perhaps consider if that simpler time has some values that you can import into your family in the present and future. If not, just smile at the good memories.

For your enjoyment here is Sarah’s “House of Mercy” video from the LP Undercurrent:

A question for you vinyl-era folks: What is the first LP you will play when you get that turntable set up?

I want to close with a disclaimer. For many people the past is not a happy repository of wonderful things to recall. For many the past is a painful reminder of tragedy, regret, and even evil. Because of this fact, I urge caution (and in many cases professional help) for delving into those types of hurts from the past.

Life Happened for Sean Adams

Photo courtesy of AM 1300 THE ZONE‏ @am1300thezone

Austin media personality Sean Adams passed away yesterday at the age of 46. That could be one of those impersonal headlines that you see and think nothing of. For many people in the Austin area it is very personal. It is for me.

I recently wrote about change. Yesterday things changed for a lot of us.

Sean and I were not close friends, but we knew each other and liked each other. I went to church with him for many years and always admired him. There were many exceptional things about him. He was a great son, husband, father, and friend. He took all of those roles and responsibilities seriously. He was a man of faith, and he had a remarkable breadth and depth about him. He had talent coupled with a terrific work ethic. He and Chip Brown in the mornings were a special team discussing sports. There was true chemistry there, and it was great to listen to. It was a morning staple for many of us. It was about more than just sports – it was sports generously seasoned with wit and wisdom.

I had lunch with Sean a couple of times at his favorite restaurant, Cover 3. We talked about our families, business, and he encouraged me when I was writing my book. He was also an encouragement to our children. When I got the stunning news yesterday about his passing, I looked at my text message history with him. There is nothing profound there, but I will always treasure it.

My heart goes out to Karen, Damon, Alex, and Sean’s mother and siblings. I also grieve for Chip Brown, Mike Hardge, Mike Weigand, Anthony Williams, Thomas Graham, Geoff Ketchum, and all of the other many people who shared a close bond with Sean. He had a lot of true and genuine friends all across the country. You cannot say that about many people.

My lasting memories of Sean will be his faith and his heart for elevating others to higher planes. He was famous for the wisdom in his many sayings. They will stick with me.

Here are a few of my favorites:

  • “The dream is free, the hustle is sold separately. Go to work.”
  • “Do something good for the world today, because the people who are making it worse aren’t taking the day off.”
  • “Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.”

Photo courtesy of Enrique Garza‏ @goodstuffcvms

He and I also shared a perspective on the value of sports. He spoke often of the huddle. The huddle is sacred, he would say. It is the one place where northerner and southerner, rich and poor, black and white, conservative and liberal, come together, put their arms around each other, and bond for a common goal. They sweat and bleed together, and special things happen.

Sean often said: “Life happens for those who show up.”

Sean showed up.

Life happened for him.

Thanks for showing up for all of us, brother. Rest in Peace.

Emily Brontë Died at Thirty

How Old Are You?

Charlotte Bronte coloured drawing
My wife and I recently watched the movie To Walk Invisible about the Brontë sisters. These amazing sisters created some of the most enduring works of English literature.

The eldest sister Charlotte wrote Jane Eyre (Penguin Classics). The youngest sister Anne wrote Agnes Grey (Penguin Classics). The middle sister Emily wrote Wuthering Heights (Penguin Classics).

Their decision to write and publish under male pseudonyms is an amazing story of strategy and perseverance. Charlotte was “Currer Bell,” Anne was “Acton Bell,” and Emily was “Ellis Bell.”

As with all writers in their day, their work was conducted often by candlelight and always by hand with ink and quill on paper. I am writing this post in an online editor with cut and paste, auto-spell check, and the ability to publish to the world with one click of the “publish” button. It is hard to even envision the painstaking effort they expended to bring these works to readers.

There are many aspects to their story that I find amazing, but perhaps the thing that strikes me most is the fact that Emily Brontë lived only 30 years. In fact, her youngest sister Anne lived only 29 years. Charlotte lived only to the age of 38.

I do not measure myself against women who were among the most gifted writers in the English language, but I do draw two lessons from their lives:

  1. Youth should be no barrier. If anyone told them they were too young, the Brontës did not listen. Some of us seem to be waiting until some magic future date when we are of sufficient age to do something important. Go ahead and do it now. Will you get better at it as you get older? Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. In the case of the Brontës, there was no getting older. Life is uncertain and short. That leads to the second lesson…
  2. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and get started doing something you really want to do and need to do. Don’t wait for later and older. Do it now. Get it started. Do not let resistance paralyze you. If you plan to do creative work (writing, music, art, entrepreneurship), get a copy of The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles and let it motivate you. The main thing is to act. Now.

I have to confess that while we have had copies of both Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights in our library for years, I have read neither. I am going to correct that soon. I think that as I read them knowing just how young these authors were when they wrote them, it will really reinforce the two lessons above.

Hopefully it will motivate me to act.

How old are you at present? If older than 30, take encouragement from what these young women did at a younger age than you. If you are younger than 30, follow the Bronte’s lead. Make it happen.

Unbelievable!

Reflections on Mike Wozniak

wozniak

Shannon with her father, Mike Wozniak

If you ever met Mike Wozniak and asked him “How are you doing?,” he had two potential answers.

With a twinkle in his eye he might say, “Hey, it’s your world – I’m just living in it.” That always brought a smile to my face.

Or he might just say:

Unbelievable!

That was my favorite. To me it always seemed like Mike lived with an understanding of the wonder of life. I know his faith was the foundation of that understanding. He was a joyful and optimistic man.

I cannot say that he and I were close friends or spent a lot of time together. It was our daughters’ softball pursuits that introduced us many years ago, and it was softball that always seemed to keep us connected. Mike was a great teacher and communicator. He most certainly loved fastpitch softball, but what he really loved was helping young women learn to play the game.

The last time I had coffee with him was on July 6, 2015. We talked about his daughter, Stefanie, and the rest of his family. We talked about my daughter, Kellen, and the rest of my family. He gave me an update on JoJo, another of Stefanie and Kellen’s teammates. He was so excited about having the opportunity to be the head softball coach at Hendrickson High School. He also spoke of his love for classroom teaching, especially personal finance.

Mike was the kind of person you want coaching your daughter, and he was the kind of teacher you want teaching your son or daughter. Those players and students who drew him got a blessing. He coached and taught with the joy that sprang from his view of this amazing gift called life.

That day in July 2015 that we got together, I gave Mike a signed copy of my book. He was grateful. Later that day he and I followed up with emails. Ever the encourager, Mike wrote:

It was great to catch up, and I am very proud of your accomplishments to date.  Thank you for the book……..I look forward to reading it this summer.

I’m not sure if he ever got around to reading it, but it does not matter. Mike was a man who had already written a beautiful story in his life. His future was well planned for, and he thought of it as great adventure.

I’m sure if I could ask him right now, “Mike, how are you doing?,” his response would be:

Unbelievable!

On behalf of Kellen, Matthew, and Margot, I extend our love, thoughts, and prayers to the Wozniak family and all those who have been impacted by a life well lived. May we continue to learn many lessons from Coach Mike.

I will miss you, my friend.