Chapter Thirty-Three

Future Shock

During a lull in our season, Coach Goodwin asked me what I want to be when I grow up.  I said immediately with complete adolescent surety, “A coach!” 

Confused he said, “Look around.  Do you want to be around smelly lockers all your life?” 

I looked around and said, “Yes, sir, why not?”

He said, “All there is here is the smell of wet or dirty towels, jock straps, sweat and body odor. Is that really what you want to be around all the time?”

Over the next few days, Coach Goodwin’s question got me thinking.  It seemed a little strange since we were in the middle of the season, and it looked like we were well on our way to the city basketball championship. Coach seemed like one of the most focused and content adults I knew and now he got me questioning my life path.  I thought that it was quite an unnecessary distraction given the timing.

But as the rest of the season progressed, Coach Goodwin's words lingered in my mind like a haunting melody. The more I looked around the gym, the more I noticed the wear and tear of the place that had always felt like a second home. The scuffed floors, the flickering lights, the faded banners lining the walls - they all whispered tales of years gone by, of victories won and losses endured.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, I found myself alone in the locker room. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant echo of a basketball bouncing on the court outside. As I sat on the bench, surrounded by the musty smell of sweat and liniment, I allowed myself to truly ponder Coach Goodwin's question.

Was this truly what I wanted for my future? To spend my days in a place where time stood still, where glory was fleeting and forgotten as quickly as it came? Or did I dare to dream of something beyond these walls, something more than basketball.

But as the days went by, Coach Goodwin's words echoed in my mind like a ricocheting basketball. I found myself paying more attention to the details of our surroundings - the worn-out benches where we huddled during timeouts, the squeaky sound of our sneakers on the gym floor, the fading posters on the walls exhorting us to victory. Maybe there was more to Coach's question than I had initially thought.

During practice one afternoon, as I dribbled past my teammates in a drill, I stole a glance at Coach Goodwin. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyes fixed on us with unwavering intensity. It struck me then that being a coach wasn't just about dirty towels and smelly lockers; it was about passion, dedication, and the drive to push others to be their best selves.

After practice, I mustered up the courage to approach Coach Goodwin. "Coach," I began tentatively, "I think I understand now what you are talking about. The future, my future.”

Coach Goodwin turned to me, his expression softening as he listened. I took a deep breath and continued, "I want to be a coach because I see the effect you have on all of us. It's not just about the game or the smell of the locker room. It's about the way you inspire us to push ourselves beyond our limits, the way you believe in us even when we don't believe in ourselves."

A smile tugged at the corners of Coach Goodwin's lips as he nodded. "I'm glad you've realized that. Being a coach is about more than just X's and O's. It's about shaping young minds, instilling values, and guiding them towards a future they may not have seen for themselves."

As we talked, I felt a sense of clarity wash over me. The doubts and uncertainties that had plagued me seemed to fade away, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose. I knew then that I wanted to follow in Coach Goodwin’s footsteps.

I nodded, hanging on to his every word. For the first time, I saw Coach Goodwin not just as a basketball coach but as a guide, a leader who had dedicated his life to nurturing young talents and helping them navigate the tumultuous journey of adolescence.