The Sweetest Debt

20 years ago, my daughter had a near-death experience. She was misdiagnosed, and we almost lost her. And in those darkest moments when hope was fleeting, and we were told that she would never be the same again, I prayed for everything to go back to the way things were. I prayed for my daughter to be able to grow up and have a chance to do all the things I knew she could do.

In return, I offered years off my life, and I promised to be a better father and husband. Additionally, I promised to volunteer and help others. I promised a lot… and in return I asked for a miracle. And just seconds later, I received one. My prayers were answered, and my daughter fully recovered, regaining everything she had lost. Some might say by luck or coincidence. I truly believe that a higher power listened and intervened.

As part of my promises, I became a volunteer coach. Baseball and softball -- both Rec and travel ball. I coached year-round with games and practices in the spring, summer and fall, and indoor workouts in the winter.

As the players got older and skills became more specialized, I prepared my teams to compete in Florida, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire. As our program’s Softball Commissioner, I helped grow our travel softball program to 14 teams and developed a clear path for those who wanted to compete at a higher level (play in college) and for those who wanted to compete locally. I helped dozens of players earn college scholarships, but more importantly, I helped them to have the best travel softball experience possible.

When my daughter and 10 of our 12 players aged out of our program, I could have stopped coaching. However, I still felt obligated to give back. And for the eight years after my daughter left our softball program for college, I continued to coach and volunteer my time. I felt like I still had more to give. I felt like I was still repaying a debt.

For 20 seasons I have missed dinners and family events. I’ve postponed vacations. I’ve spent my own money on equipment and travel to volunteer my time to help others. More times than I can count, I’ve gotten up at 5 AM on a cold October morning to drive 90 minutes to throw heavy balls and help players warm up their bats for tournament games. I’ve stood hunched over in coaching boxes in sweltering heat for back-to-back-to-back games because that’s what the position required.

The truth is, I loved every minute of coaching. Pain aside, I felt like I was helping these young athletes and their families. I was the oldest volunteer coach out there. And I joked that they would have to bury me with my cleats on.

A few weeks ago, as I was throwing batting practice and my body was aching, I made the painful decision that it was time to stop coaching at the end of this season. Mentally, I had been preparing myself for this moment by trying to enjoy every practice, every game, every team event. I tried to celebrate our time together to the best of my ability.

Now a kindergarten teacher and volunteer coach, my daughter was given the opportunity to grow and do the things I knew she could do. But in that near tragedy so long ago, I was also given a gift in being able to help others. It was often long hours and thankless work, but I didn’t do it to earn thanks or trophies. I did it because I could make a difference in the lives of these young people. In return, I got to be part of their lives, even if just for a short time. I got to teach and inspire and cheer for talented student athletes who looked to me for help. I found true friendships with dozens of families, many of whom have stayed in touch long after softball ended.

As word got out that I was coaching in my last travel games, I heard from several parents, former players and fellow coaches. I received some heart-warming texts, emails and calls. Some of the players, now grown professionals, shared that I made a lasting and important impact on their lives that helped them on and off the field. And even a few of my players from 10 years ago found their way to the bleachers to watch our last practice. How special is that?

Our team played hard through this past weekend, our last together. I hosted a team party on Saturday and shared the details from the life-threatening story about my daughter and how it led me to coaching. I also took the opportunity to thank my fellow coaches, players, parents, my wife and my daughter for everything they’ve given me. It was an emotional talk for me but needed to be said.

We played with heavy hearts on Sunday morning and came up one run short in our last game. Then more speeches, hugs and tears, and some unexpected gifts before leaving the field. Some former players were there, too. It was the end of a 20-year promise… and the sweetest debt I’ve ever had to pay.