Chapter 21 There is no Playbook I didn''t think I was ready to come back and coach, but I decided I at least owed my team a conversation. I found out some parents were going to purchase enough "Ringers" (remember the special burger Michael and some of the boys had created at Meatheads) and french fries to feed the team and coaching staff after practice on Friday. Just the mention of "The Ringer" made me start to cry, but I decided that would be a good day for me to visit practice and address the team. I arrived at Redbird Field as practice was nearing completion. Just pulling into the parking lot put a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. It would be my first time with the team, at this place, without Michael. It was a beautiful spring day. The green of the infield turf seemed to pop and sparkle in the sunlight, and the lack of a typical central Illinois spring breeze made the afternoon feel even warmer than the 70 degrees on the thermometer.

I can''t explain why, but I was terribly nervous. It felt like I was meeting the players and coaches for the first time. The players were cleaning up after practice. Bruce and Wendy Auer were the first people I saw. They were setting up dinner on the stadium concourse. They were parents of Travis, a senior pitcher, and long-time friends of my family. Travis was very close to Michael. Tears filled in their eyes as I gave each of them a hug.

They both wanted to talk, but the tears wouldn''t let them. "The boys are going to be so glad to see you," Wendy managed, her voice trembling. I slowly walked down the steps toward the dugout. The players and coaches were settled onto the bleachers behind our dugout. A few parents who had been there to serve dinner stood at the railing directly behind the players. I stood in front of the first row of bleachers, looking at them. I looked into their eyes. Several of them had tears forming.

I started to speak, but my lips started quivering and my eyes filled with tears. I looked away. I took a deep breath, and decided to push forward. "Gentlemen," I started. "I have been coaching a long time. I have hundreds of books about leadership on my bookshelves at home. None of them tell me what I am supposed to do or how I am supposed to act in this situation." "So I am just going to do what I have always tried to do with you guys, and that is to be truthful.

I''m just going to share my feelings with you, and see if somehow we can get through this together." I didn''t really know how to address the question I was certain they wanted answered. "I don''t know when, or even if, I will come back to coach," I said. "I just know I''m not ready right now." "Michael loved you guys and he loved his Dad, and I know he would want me to get back out here and be with you guys," I continued through sobs. "But I also know how much he loved his Mom, and I need to make sure she is okay being alone before I start leaving her for practices and games." I paused for a moment, attempting to gather myself. "I believe in God, and Michael did too.

I miss him terribly. But to believe in God is to believe Michael is in a better place. That is what keeps me going." I held up a copy of Tony Dungy''s book. "When Michael was a junior in high school, I led a book study for baseball players at Normal West'' I recalled. "We studied this book - Dare to be Uncommon. As an assignment during the study I asked the players to write their own obituary. I still have the paper Michael wrote.

I would like to read it to you." "Michael was a good kid who enjoyed spending time with friends and family. His favorite sports included baseball, basketball and golf. His hobbies included fishing and other activities. He was a strong believer in Jesus Christ and helped others look to follow God. He enjoyed making people laugh until he died." "He enjoyed making people laugh until the day he died," I repeated. By now my eyes just weren''t watering, tears actually trickled down my face.

"I have been spending a lot of time asking myself, ''what would Michael want.'' I know this fellas - Michael loved baseball and he had fun playing it. He would want you guys to have fun too." "I haven''t been to any of our games so far, but I talk to Coach Paxson every day. I haven''t seen a single play but I''ve heard enough to know you guys aren''t having fun. I am giving you permission to have fun. I am telling you Michael would want you to have fun." "Quit worrying about winning or losing.

Quit worrying about hits and errors or how you pitch. I have always told you winning is not the most important thing to me, and I mean that even more now. Just focus on one thing; have fun. For Michael." "Everybody huddle up," I said. The players got to their feet and gathered together. We raised our hands together as one. "Michael helped create the sandwich we are about to have for dinner.

He was so proud of working with you guys on this sandwich. I just know he is smiling down on us tonight." "Let''s enjoy the Ringer and fries tonight," I added. "It''s going to be a great day for baseball tomorrow. Relax, enjoy it, and have fun." "MC on three," I finished. "One, two, three. "MC!" they yelled in a single voice.