|
Printed From North Texas e-News == ntxe-news.com Columnists I witnessed something spectacular last night. The kind of thing that makes your chest swell with pride and maybe even bring a tear to a mother’s eye. It was right in our own town’s backyard, or rather BHS’s backyard, the high school gym.
There were no Friday night lights, no bands, no cheerleaders, no scoreboard, and no grumbling fans. But the Warrior spirit in the room could have lit 10 football fields. It was the first annual “Night of Champions,” a culmination and presentation of the weight lifting training that our high school athletes have been sweating through during the past few off-season weeks under the direction of head football coach John Hall and powerlifting coach Randall Dills. I knew the night was special when my freshman son specifically requested my presence at the event. (If you have a 16-year-old son, you understand the significance). I asked several parents during the day what exactly we were in for, but none seemed to know. In we filed, not a large crowd, but large enough for the boys to feel represented. There was a slide presentation of their workouts, that’s mom language for boot camp, accompanied by hard rock & R&B music, that showed the Warriors jump-roping in the rain, straining & sweating in the weight room, and my personal favorite, calisthenics in the snow. The moves those coaches were putting our boys through on the gym floor could easily be compared to the acrobatics of the finest Krunk dancers, (or break-dancers, as we old fogies know it).
The gym was set-up impressively with three stations for the various weight classes, eraser boards to inform the fans who was lifting, how much they were lifting, and assistants recording the results at tables full of trophies to be awarded to those who exceeded their maximum lift. Clean and professional. Coach Hall welcomed us noting that the idea for the “Night of Champions” came from a visit to watch TCU’s same event and explained the order of the program. From then on it was like a well-oiled Warrior machine as the boys lifted, spotted, added and subtracted weights, while the football & Powerlifting coaching staff made the rounds, patting heads, slapping butts (that’s a guy thing), and taking pictures like proud parents at the prom.
There was no dead time, as we cheered on the standing jump competition, as the Warriors made the transition from bench press to squat. Heck, they even had the whole area cleaned up and all the equipment returned to the weight room before the scores were tabulated and the trophies were awarded. Who won? Who cares! My son was one of the two lightest in weight and his teammate took home the two trophies. In fact, there were only 12 braves out of the whole tribe that took home some gold. But what made the whole three-hour event amazing was the determination that you saw in each Warrior’s face. It was the camaraderie of the tribe as they circled their teammate when he was about to face his greatest competitor – himself. As he strained to lift just 25, 50, 75, 100 more pounds to push further past his previous max, we saw the faces of the “joy of victory and the agony of defeat” and the swats and high-fives that only boys know the meaning of.
When Jake Stephens attempted to squat an unbelievable 500 lbs, the entire tribe surrounded him chanting their warrior war song, raising their arms to the crowd to do the same. When he succeeded, the gym rocked. When he stumbled, the gasp could be heard all the way to Dodd City. And when he recovered, the surrounding parents hugged his mom and continued the celebration. When the trophies were awarded, the tribe sat Indian style on the gym floor and gave a respectful “3-clap” after each name. The crowd didn’t know what to do because we’d never seen our teenagers sit still reflecting the demeanor of a professional athletic team. The awards didn’t matter. The boys knew who would get them because they’d been rooting for them all night. And when all was said and done, the Warriors met in the middle of the ring, outsiders vying for the middle of the heap as they grunted their Warrior cry. The pride on the chief’s and the assistant chiefs’ faces, put the parents’ to shame. When I said the typical mom greeting to my son, “Sorry you didn’t get a trophy, but I’m so proud of you” (with a hug), he actually looked shocked and said, “Mom, you don’t get it. I lifted OVER my maximum weight tonight!” Once again, I’ve been put in my place. Who lost? The school board members and wannabes who didn’t attend to see that Warrior Spirit is alive and well. The homegrown Warrior alumnus who grumble and obsess over the fact we didn’t have a winning football season. I wasn’t a Warrior myself, but I’m proud to say that I am rearing four, only two of which are in the athletic program and one of which plays football.
I witnessed the greatest success a coaching staff can give our young men as they stumble through these adolescent years toward adulthood. Confidence, pride, and self-worth. And most importantly, which we all seem to lose sight of, they had fun. © Copyright 2002-2005 by North Texas e-News, llc. |