He sat hunched in the chair,
A slightly shrunken version
Of the robust man I had known,
The Coach, the Teacher, the Mentor
Of my youth.
The man I came to Revere nearly as
much as my own father.

That hero of the war with the Axes Powers,
That mostly soft spoken man of tolerance
And patients that could command respect
And obedience with but a single look.
That leader I would have battered down
Walls with only my head if he had asked me to.
That man that gave me a sense of self-respect,
Taught me strong Life Lessons that I still
carry to this day. That I have passed on to my
own Son and Grandsons. This man that taught me
That I could do anything I sat my mind to do,
if only I persevered, if only I did not give up.
That just to try is to win.
That a Team is always stronger that a man alone.
That fellowship lights the darkness,
That pride is more than just a word.
That the axiom of “It’s not if you win or lose,
It’s how you play the game.” Is not merely
Some bit of rhetoric thought up to console
Losers, rather a phrase that is meant to convey
A message of a morally correct perception and
Human understanding of life itself.

He sat there frail, looking a little confused,
Yet the man, the Coach was still there in his eyes.
He weakly, yet firmly took my hand, not in just a
Greeting “Shake” but rather in an embrace of
Old Comrades and I told him in a few choked up
words what he had given me, of my affection for
him and we both fought back tears of the emotion
that comes from a knowledge older men understand
will be the last contact they will ever share.
I forced myself to be brief rather than fall apart,
To perhaps embarrass us both.
I wanted to embrace him, but did not, fearing,
No, knowing that I would certainly fall apart.

I shook his Grandsons hand and told that fine young
Man that he had a great man sitting next to him there,
But then I’m sure he already knew that.

My life is but one of thousands of young men
And women’s lives that were  touched and inspired
By the “Coach”. That was his profession, his
“Calling” and he did it splendidly.
What I owe that man, I can never repay.

Thank you Don Brown, my dear friend just thank you.