Thank you, Terry

Terry Thompson during his baseball days
It's been 35 years since that telephone call from Terry Thompson.

*****
A good friend of mine, Bob McMillan, called last week and invited me to help him coach his Spring baseball team. I couldn't help him because his team plays on the weekends, and those are precious real estate for me with a mother in Georgia, a son in Ohio, and another son in western Tennessee.

Bob's call, however, inspired me to call my friend, Chris Davis, who continues to coach in our local recreation league. I volunteered to help Chris coach his team this Spring, and by coach I mostly mean keep the scorebook at games, encourage the players, and help with some practice drills. Chris's team doesn't play on the weekends.

Helping Chris - and his gifted assistant, John Bush - this Spring means wobbling out of retirement. I was a head coach in our local baseball league from 1996-2012, and one season was the head coach of two teams in two different leagues. Before 1996, I coached recreation baseball in two other south Georgia communities. Since my last coaching year, I've developed some arthritis in my wrists and so this could be an interesting spring.

But, this blog post isn't about all of that. This blog post goes back to March 1983. I was single, living in Jesup, GA, working for the local newspaper, and facing a summer without my Vicki. She was still a college student and was headed home to spend the summer with her parents . . . in Texas.

I was at the newspaper office one day when Terry Thompson called me. Terry was the director of the local recreation league and he needed one more coach for the Midget league, ages 10-12.

"I've never coached before," I said.
"Yes, but you know baseball," Terry said.
"I haven't played baseball since I was 12," I said, reminding him that I was 23.
"Yes, but you write sports for the newspaper," he said.

And, 48 hours later I was in a meeting where I was expected to select players that I did not know to play on a team I had never watched play in a place where I had not even lived a full 12 months. How's that for risk-taking?

Following one of our early practices, I was standing by the outfield fence watching another team gather for its practice. I will never forget saying to myself, but out loud, "I have no idea what I'm doing." I did not realize Terry Thompson was walking up behind me and he must have heard me. He put an arm on my shoulder and said these words, "Just always remember, it's not really about baseball. It's about the boys. It's about encouraging them every time you see them. Start with the weakest players. Be a friend."

I can't tell you how many times I thought about that through all those years of coaching baseball - more than 20 in three different places that I lived.

Me, in the green shirt, with the ITT Rayonier boys of 83
And, I will never forget that first year. We finished 9-8. Against league rules, I went to our sponsor, ITT Rayonier (the paper plant) and plant manager Jim Bland authorized giving me $200 to buy new catcher's gear and new green batting helmets. One Saturday morning, our team's catcher, Joe Tyre, and our shortstop, Brantley Crosby, went with me to Waycross to buy the new gear. I even had enough left over to buy green stirrups for every player, and to put some money toward a team cookout at the end of the season. Willie Curry, who pitched and played shortstop, was our team MVP.

I was so excited when we won our first game that I called my daddy and woke him up.

Terry Thompson died too young. Illness took him.
I've had lots of people pat me on the shoulder over the years because of the volunteer hours I gave to coaching their boys during the Spring and Fall. The reality is that when a really good man called and said, "Can you help?" I said yes.

When you get a call to serve others, always say yes. You don't know where it might lead, the great people you will meet, or the fun you will have 35 years later.

www.scottdvaughan.com

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