A Christmas Story…Barely The other day I was walking out of the Walnut Creek YMCA noticing the recently display of Christmas Decoration. Lost in the runner’s high from the treadmill workout, somehow I was thinking about “The Polar Express” and how I have only seen the movie in Spanish. “Si, si, si chocolate! Si, si, si chocolate!” Suddenly I was brought back to the present when a familiar face stood before me. Even though the face was familiar it had aged much since the days when this face was almost iconic during my high school years. It was the face of Coach Bob Darrah whom I had as a teacher and coach in high school. Back then, Coach Darrah as a high school wrestling coach had amassed all sorts of championships and awards with his team. Back then wrestling matches between rivals packed a gym. They were wild and intense events, much different than wrestling meets today. Coach Darrah was always bugging me to go out for wrestling to which I always nervously declined. He was my sophomore football coach. He was the defensive coordinator and I spent much of the time with the defense and Coach Darrah. He was also my PE teacher at 7:35am. I remember one of Coach Darrah’s favorite PE activities was “Dodge Ball.” Back then we used volleyballs and believe me you could inflict much more pain throwing a volleyball as opposed to the softer balls used today. Since my PE class was first period, some of the senior football players would make a point to come early to school and they looked forward to joining the Battle Ball games even though they weren’t in the class. As a freshman this was horrifying as these monster athletes licked their lips waiting to attack the skinny small freshmen. Coach Darrah stood off to the side enjoying the carnage much like a Roman Emperor watching the lions and the Christians at the Coliseum. 40 years later the coach whom I had always admired and respected stood leaning on a cane approaching 86 years old. I recognized him immediately and even though he had aged his persona was still very recognizable. I was more surprised that he remembered and recognized me. He was having trouble standing so he invited me to sit down at one of the tables near by. We talked about the old days, his championship wrestling teams, coaching philosophies and the many many athletes he remembers and the ones he still keeps in touch with. There was a sparkle in his aging eyes as he talked about those special athletes whom he still has relationships with. He also reminded me of the time when a friend of mine and I decided we didn’t want to stay for the formal assembly and snuck out of school. We had a great plan involving sneaking around the neighborhood back yards down to where my friend’s car was. Of course as we emerged from our cover who do you think was watching us from the other side of the street, Coach Darrah. He told us to meet him in the gym in 5 minutes. He just told us to run the stairs until he told us to stop. Even though our punishment was agony, I never lost my respect for Coach Darrah.
Since his high school days Coach Darrah moved on to coach a little wrestling and golf at Simpson before his retirement. His adoring wife had since died and he lives alone but still is very active as his children help him out and take care of things for him. As we got up to leave and say our good byes, I instinctively said “take care Coach” He smiled when he realized I had called him Coach. 40 years later he is still my coach. It struck me how I had called him coach as a term of endearment. I got a little choked up as I realized how I had so easily referred to him as Coach and how much Coach Darrah loved to hear it. Everyone has those special teachers and coaches that were such role models and influences in young lives. The title “Coach” can simply be a way of acknowledging who is in charge of a team. It is also use as a title of respect for those special coaches who had such an impact on an athlete’s life. It’s funny how I am no longer a member of his team and he is no longer my coach, still he will always be my coach. Walking to my car I thought what a great life to have that sort of impact where people still call him “Coach” long after his coaching days are over. It is recognition of all the lessons we learned together and how much respect I still had for him after 40 years. To call him “Bob” or even Mr. Darrah seems to be simply wrong. So much was communicated in my simple use of a seemingly ordinary title. “Coach.” However in some instances the title “Coach” conveys so much respect and so much love. I hope some day when I am seen leaning on my cane as an old man someone might see me the same way I see Coach Darrah. That would be the acknowledgement of an honorable life. Thanks Coach Darrah for everything.