I stood before the team and attempted to demonstrate a shot put drill. I am 6’5” tall and 185 pounds, which, if you can’t picture it, can be summed up with two words: “tall” and “skinny.” These six boys were all 5’10” and up, and over 200 pounds, most closer to 225-230. They could probably all bench press me. I run 5Ks and 10Ks, I ran the mile and two-mile in high school. How was I going to coach these guys in the shot and discus?
“OK, the way to hold a shot is resting in your fingers, not down in your palm, but not the fingertips, either.” Alright, they’re nodding. This seems to make sense. I don’t sound like an idiot.
“You want the shot to flip off your fingertips, not roll off your palm.” More head nods. I’m not even looking at my notes. This is really happening.
I lead the boys through a series of drills. I reminded one boy to keep his elbow up, another to turn his hand so he wasn’t throwing the shot like a baseball, which can lead to injury. I had spent some time Sunday afternoon reading articles online and watching videos on YouTube. I’d made a rough plan, but I thought it might only take fifteen minutes, and then what would I do?
I checked the time. We’d been out here forty minutes already! We were doing some great drills and having a productive practice! I was ecstatic. Our biggest challenge had been making sure I didn’t stand in such a way that the boys had to stare up into the sun to watch me demonstrate.
Soon, it was time for our last drill, and then some wind sprints. The boys were ready to run. They were laughing. They worked hard and had fun.
I shook each of their hands and thanked them for a good practice. Then I jogged over to the head coach who was wrapping up with the sprinters. I told him how my practice went, and we laid out a plan for the next few days.
As I walked toward my car, I was giddy. Other teams were finishing up. The sun was radiant, but it had gotten a bit cooler than it was at the start of practice. This was the beginning of the spring track season. This is a great sport. After nine years, I was a coach again.
“OK, the way to hold a shot is resting in your fingers, not down in your palm, but not the fingertips, either.” Alright, they’re nodding. This seems to make sense. I don’t sound like an idiot.
“You want the shot to flip off your fingertips, not roll off your palm.” More head nods. I’m not even looking at my notes. This is really happening.
I lead the boys through a series of drills. I reminded one boy to keep his elbow up, another to turn his hand so he wasn’t throwing the shot like a baseball, which can lead to injury. I had spent some time Sunday afternoon reading articles online and watching videos on YouTube. I’d made a rough plan, but I thought it might only take fifteen minutes, and then what would I do?
I checked the time. We’d been out here forty minutes already! We were doing some great drills and having a productive practice! I was ecstatic. Our biggest challenge had been making sure I didn’t stand in such a way that the boys had to stare up into the sun to watch me demonstrate.
Soon, it was time for our last drill, and then some wind sprints. The boys were ready to run. They were laughing. They worked hard and had fun.
I shook each of their hands and thanked them for a good practice. Then I jogged over to the head coach who was wrapping up with the sprinters. I told him how my practice went, and we laid out a plan for the next few days.
As I walked toward my car, I was giddy. Other teams were finishing up. The sun was radiant, but it had gotten a bit cooler than it was at the start of practice. This was the beginning of the spring track season. This is a great sport. After nine years, I was a coach again.