We had an up and down season, with several heartbreaks. Losing games with one goal differential and some of them in the last seconds of regulation or in OT. Saturday, we beat Oberlin College in OT and it was a pleasure to see the guys, parents, and coaching staff celebrating as if we had won the whole NCAC tournament (I even went on my knees, looking like the soldier in the famous poster from the movie "Platoon"). Well, I believe that our success was well deserved!

A win in OT gives everyone a thrill that it's difficult to explain unless one lives that moment at the present time. The adrenaline rush stays with you for a while and you find yourself thinking about it for a very long time.

That was my frame of mind when I went to Applebee's for a late dinner on Saturday evening, after we returned from Oberlin. I kept thinking about the wins, the loses, the whole season in general. After all, it is my job, and since I love my job, I have the tendency to think about things like that most of the time.

When it was time to pay the bill, my waitress asked me if I wanted to donate some money for a "Make-A-Wish" fundraiser the restaurant was running in order to help a local thirteen year old, Samantha, who suffered from terminal bone cancer, travel to Disneyland with her family for Christmas. Obviously, I made a contribution and asked more about the girl. My server explained to me that Samantha had a few months to live, she was taking the whole thing very bravely (children are unbelievably braver than adults when coping with disease and death), and that her only desire was to go to Disneyland with her family before she died.

I sat there, alone, for a while, after the waitress left, thinking about Samantha, whom I don't know, and her family. All of the sudden, our season, our heartbreaks, our wins and loses, and even the Oberlin celebration, were all gone from my mind as a deep sense of sadness for Samantha entered my heart, but also a feeling of "Being There" (another movie I love), a sentiment of grateful awareness, the reality check we all need, once in a while.

I thought about Samantha, but I thought about her parents more. I thought how tragic and affecting it is for a parent to lay his/her child to rest forever. I thought about my own mother, who buried her first born, the brother I never met, when he was only six months old. I thought about my mother-in-law who accompanied two sons, respectively twenty nine and twenty four, in their last journey to the cemetery, over a decade ago. I remember their pain, a Mother's pain, their never healed wound. And no matter how much time went and continues to go by, their lives were indelibly effected and will never be the same. That kind of pain is too big, the anguish too brutal to have time take care of it. It didn't and it won't.

Then, this morning I received Dean Bambrey's e-mail, with which he was informing us of the tragic death of one of our students, freshman Patrick Woehnker. I didn't know Patrick personally, as I don't know most of the freshmen, but I was shocked as everyone else on campus to find out about his passing. My thoughts went right away to his family, to his Mom and Dad, who had to receive the saddest phone call of all calls on a Sunday morning, announcing the death of their beloved son. A son with whom they had shared the first nineteen years of his young life, and whom they just sent to college with their blessing and love only two and a half months earlier.

I don't know if the Woehnkers have other children, I really hope so, with whom grieve and share the pain of losing a young member of their family. I am sure they have lots of friends and relatives who will pour in to show their support and love. Wabash College, Lambda Chi Alpha and the swim team will also pour in all the support and love that this great institution is capable of offering at times like this. We have lost other young men in the past and their names are still resonating in the corridors of our campus buildings, as well as in the hearts and minds of students, faculty, and staff. Nevertheless, Wabash will recover, Lambda Chi Alpha will recover, and the swim team will recover. As sad and painful as something like this makes everyone feel, they will move on, they will endure and pull through. The Woehnkers will endure, I am sure, but they will never pull through completely, I know so. I know so first hand.

When a young one dies it is as though the wheel of life has spun backward in an unnatural way. Parents are not supposed to bury their children, children are the ones who lay parents to rest, not the other way around! Unfortunately, we all know that's not always the case and no matter how many times we witness the death of children, teenagers, young men, we can't help but remain speechless, astonished, and heartbroken. And if the child is flesh of your flesh, the wound never scars.

"Since death alone is certain, but the time of death uncertain...what should I do?" recites an old Buddhist meditation technique. Only when thinking about our own death, we won't take life for granted. Only when we are aware of our own and other's mortality, words and feelings won't be left unspoken. Only when we live every day as if it were the last one, we will appreciate the gift of living and its powerful message. Carpe Diem, seize the day, I can't think of a better way of living our lives. And if successful in stripping down to bare essentials, health, love, and peace of mind, everything else assumes simple, trouble-free connotation where impossible is really nothing and death alone is the only thing we can't change.

And that's why I wanted to write this blog entry. I wanted to tell our soccer players, fans, occasional readers, or just anyone who runs into our soccer blog to think about their loved ones and tell them how much you love them, every time you have a chance, because it may as well be the last time you ever speak with them again. It's not a morbid thought, just a wonderful and fulfilling way to live a life.

I send all my thoughts, vibes, and love to the parents of Samantha, Patrick, and to the other parents in our lives who went through or are going through the same anguish and despair. I can't send my prayers because God and I parted a long time ago, but I can keep the parents in my mind and send out loving energy as they try to cope with their lifelong heartbreak.

Time will take care of our sadness. For the parents of Samantha and Patrick, time will only be the passing of temporal seasons in the never ending winter of their hearts. It will be a tough and cold road to travel. It won't be easy. It never is.

Patrick... R.I.P. ; Samantha...say hello to Mickey for me...and thank you both for a reality check.

Posted by Roberto Giannini at 02:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Really, when is enough enough? How much do we need to be smacked on the face before the infamous "luck" starts looking our way? They say that there isn't such a think as luck but rather the opportunity that presents itself when one is prepared to seize it. I believe we have been preparing for a while now but the ball keeps bouncing the other way and it seems as though we can't catch a break.

They also say that hardships and difficulties fortify people and make them better in the long run. Endurance, perseverance, determination, desire...call it as you like it, but it would also be nice to be rewarded for the hard work that we have done for the last two months.

Nevertheless, our resolve has exponentially grown game after game, heartbreak after heartbreak, disappointment after disappointment. I feel we are like a pack of wolves that have been hunting for weeks without catching any prey. The next hunting party will go out in the next three days. Our bellies are empty, our teeth are sharp, and we are hungry like a wolf!

Honestly, I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of the Franklin soccer team next Wednesday because, and even though we always respect every opponent, we are so famished and ready to have a feeding frenzy that I am afraid there won't be any meat left on "them bones" after we have finished.

The test of our resolve will be in three days and in the other three remaining games of the season. Let's go out as a pack of hungry wolves!!

Posted by Roberto Giannini at 11:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's easy to feel good about things when everything goes well or when a reaction to adversities if rewarded with success. It's good to win games and championships, we all know that. It's great to work hard, prepare well, and harvest the fruit of your labor as a coach and player.

It's easy to jump on a winning wagon and feel good about it.  It comes easy to be congratulated for a job well done when the score board says that you have won a game. It comes natural to wanting to be associated with a group of people who are successful at what they do in terms of results. Everyone wants to win and when that happens everyone is present with heart and soul.

I always looked at my coaching successes with some sort of apprehension, because I always knew that, sooner or later, potential loosing seasons, just hiding around the corner, were waiting for me to come by and "assault" me from behind.

They did, unfortunately but inevitably, they did.

How am I going to deal with this unprecedented situation? Am I able to stick to it when everything around me tells me to let it go and focus on the future? 

Defensive mechanisms, something that everyone has, push people to distance themselves from situations that don't bring a smile on one's face but rather disillusion, sadness, shame, and/or pain. Letting go may come with some unpleasant feelings but it doesn't require much effort...it almost comes naturally.

Well, I am a fighter, I am a survivor, I am a competitor, and am definitely no quitter. I believe that the difference between men and Wabash men is exactly that, sticking to the fight and being resolute, even in the face of defeats, bad mood, or anger.

I carry this poem in my wallet, written by an anonymous Irish poet:

"When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road you're trudging seems up hill,

When the funds are low, and the debts are high,

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest if you must, but DON'T YOU QUIT!

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As everyone of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won had he stuck it out.

Don't give up though the pace seems slow,

You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt.

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far.

So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit,

It's when things seem worse,

that you MUST NOT QUIT!"

It has always helped me in tough moments, and not only related to sports, because, and even though the urge to quit may come natural, quitting doesn't require any talent. And since I proud myself of being a man with many talents, the idea of quitting is unconceivable.

Let's prove it to ourselves, our fans, our friends, our families, and our school from here to the end of the season.

WABASH ALWAYS FIGHTS, it means more, much more than just three words chanted before games.

Posted by Roberto Giannini at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)