August 1978.
The sun was trying to kill us. I’m convinced of it. The Rockhurst High practice
field in Kansas City felt less like grass and more like a skillet someone had forgotten to turn off. We were knee-deep in two-a-days, that magical time when
teenage boys willingly volunteer to be dehydrated, yelled at, humbled, and
“character built” whether they asked for it or not.
I was 16,
exhausted, and very sure I would not survive to see Labor Day. That's when Coach
Jerry Culver, dad of one of my classmates and my varsity coach, gathered our
half-dead squad and delivered a speech that welded itself to the inside of my
skull.
He looked
at us and said, “Don’t you dare give up. Once you give up on yourself the first
time, it gets easier and easier to give up on everything else, your family,
your schoolwork, your career, your wife, your kids.”
At 16, I
had no wife. No kids. No career. I didn't even have a girlfriend. All I had was
heat stroke and the faint hope of surviving another wind sprint. But his words
didn’t just land; they took root. And so I ran. I ran until my legs buckled, my
lungs whined, and yes… I ran until I puked.
But
somewhere in that mess, Coach Culver planted a stubborn streak in me. A refusal
to quit when something mattered. And lately, as I look at the world, I’ve been wondering whether everyone else has received a Coach Culver speech… because the evidence suggests otherwise.
Does
Anyone Stay Together Anymore? Marriage used to be the ultimate “we’re in this
for the long haul.” Today, the U.S. marriage rate hovers around 50%, and half
of those marriages wobble. Relationships seem to have a shorter shelf life than
the milk in my fridge.
And it’s
not just marriages. It feels like everywhere you look, loyalty has the lifespan
of a TikTok trend.
- Comedy teams break up.
- Bands break up.
- Hollywood divorces are
seasonal.
- Athletes switch teams like
they’re switching cell phone providers.
And I’ve
wondered: Is commitment dying? Or did people just never learn what it means
to stay?
But Then I
Look at My Own Life… and Realize Something Important. If someone read my résumé
without context, they might think I moved around a bit. But here’s the truth, and
it fits perfectly with Coach Culver’s philosophy: There’s a difference between
quitting… and evolving.
I began my college education at St. Mary’s University in San Antonio. I didn’t leave because I quit.
I left because I went on an adventure with my fraternity brother, and now
lifelong friend, to Southwest Missouri State. That wasn’t running away. That
was running toward someone who mattered to me. There we met our future spouses.
In my
early teaching career, I moved every few years, not because I lacked
commitment,
but because I was positioning myself, growing, preparing for the next
opportunity. Then I found St. Michael the Archangel in Shrewsbury, and stayed
12 years. Because I fell in love with the place. The families. The kids. The
mission.
When I
became a principal, I discovered something true of many good principals:
Every 5–6 years, there's an itch. Not an itch to quit, but an itch to stay
sharp. An itch to avoid stagnation. An itch to move before I stop being the
leader my school deserves.
That’s not giving up. That’s stewardship. That’s leadership with integrity. And yet, when it comes to the things that matter most…
- my marriage
- my children
- my grandchildren
…that’s
where Coach Culver’s voice rings the loudest.
There, I
don’t run. There, I don’t waver. There, I don’t quit. Because some commitments
aren’t “jobs” or “phases”, they are vows.
Coach
Culver didn’t tell us:
“Stay in
the same job forever.”
“Never move towns.”
“Never chase opportunity.”
He taught
us: Don’t quit on yourself. Don’t quit
on people. And don’t quit when it’s hard. Your life isn’t a pattern of quitting;
it’s a pattern of answering the next calling, then staying rooted where the
soul's work is.
That’s the
difference between:
- escaping and expanding
- abandoning and ascending
- quitting and discerning
And if
more people understood that difference? More marriages could last. More bands could stay together. More teams would likely persevere. Maybe
loyalty wouldn’t be considered an antique virtue.
Be
Someone’s Coach Culver. We all need that voice, the one that says: “You’re
tired, but you’re not done. Don’t quit. You’ve got more in you.”
And if we
ran just one more metaphorical wind sprint, even if we puked a little, maybe
we’d learn that staying power is still possible. For jobs. For friendships. For
teams. For marriages.
For families. For each other.
Not
because it’s easy, but because it’s right. And because someone once told us,
under a scorching August sky: “Don’t you dare give up.”
AMEN!
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