Last year, almost at the same time, I posted a blog entry about the passing of one of our students, Patrick, and a fund raiser for a local girl, Samantha, who was battling terminal cancer. One year went by and unfortunately another tragedy has hit Wabash, a death of another student, Johnny D. Smith, a freshman from Arizona.

Johnny was a Delta Tau Delta brother, the same fraternity that has fourteen of our soccer players, including eight freshmen who spent every single day together with the other freshmen as members of the same pledging class. It goes without saying that our soccer program has been hit hard by this tragic incident and the road to recovery is and will be a hard one.

Nevertheless, the lads have responded well and even though the loss took a toll on all of them, especially the Delta house brothers, we went on the road and played a very tough game against a fierce competitor, Principia College, in an hostile environment -- it was rainy, humid, foggy, and their fans quite loud and intimidating -- and after a five hour bus ride.

We played good soccer, created a number of great chances, scored three goals, and fought hard and well...for 105 minutes. Five minute of confusion, lack of focus, and team shape cost us two goals and snatched away a well deserved away win.

We are definitely young, no questions about that. At Principia, eight freshmen started the game, five of whom Delta brothers. Nevertheless, we are 12 games into the season and I don't want to continually use this as an excuse and/or justification for mental breakdowns during competition.

"Wabash Always Fights," what does it really means? I recall reading a blog written by my friend Chris Creighton, our former football head coach, about the same subject a little over a year ago, right after a tough game against Franklin College. It was football first regular season game and their started senior QB, Dustin Huff, broke his ankle in the last minutes of the game. Chris was kind of "questioned" on why Dustin was kept in the game, during the dying moment of the fourth quarter, and the reasoning behind such a decision.

He wrote that Dustin's leadership role and charisma were important on the pitch at that time and that he was now expecting everyone else on the team to pull together, work harder, and come together as a team despite the fact that their starting QB was going to be out for the rest of the season. He called out the Wabash Always Fights spirit, what it really meant, and the message of commitment and resolve that it encompassed. It turned out that a shadowed sophomore QB, until then, got the chance to step into the starting position and, together with the whole football team's resiliance and determination, led the program to the NCAA final eight round.

Now, obviously a broken ankle and a death are two completely different stories, and I am not here to compare them, I know better than that. But as a middle age man who already buried his grandparents, both his parents, two-brothers-in law, and a considerable number of relatives and friends, I can testify to the most elementary cliche'....time and courage heal most wounds. You won't forget, but you'll recover.

I am not a psychiatrist or a psychologist (even though psychology is an important part of coaching) and therefore, I am not trying to "cure" anyone on how to deal with tragedies like this (there are plenty of specialists on the field who can do a much better job than I) but to just keep things under prospective so that our young student/athletes who have been hit by this heartbreak can find a starting point from which to move on.

So, here it goes, my unsolicited advise. When you are dealing with death you are also forced to deal with life, something that we take for granted every day. We get used to it as we get used to everything that is good in our lives. We realize that our stomach is there to digest our food, or our teeth are there to chew it, or our lungs are there to pump air in and out our bodies, or our feet and spine support our weight, or our brain is controlling everything we do, or our heart can beat 200 times per minutes under strenuous physical exercise, ONLY when these organs are not functioning well and hurt.

We take for granted that we can get out bed every day and within seconds walk across a room, take care of our body's waste, shower, brush our teeth, get dressed and go to work when, at the same time, there are people out there that can't even leave their beds or wheel chairs to do any of the things I just described and that are part of our daily routine.

At 18, thankfully so but a bit recklessly as well, we feel immortal, invincible, bigger than life itself. The truth of the matter is that we are as mortal and disposable as any eighty years old human. It's our legacy, a thing we can't change, the ONLY thing we can't change.

So, thinking about death at an early age, or at any age for that matter, may give us the gift to realize how fortunate we are to be alive, to be healthy, to be young (some of us), and to do things we love and enjoy so very, very much. But mostly, to have the opportunity to share this fortune with the people we love, al least until it lasts.

So, my dear players and readers, the few of you who follow this passionate, at times rambling and impulsive coach, and who are now facing this tragic event and perhaps can't find a way out, rejoice about your life, its unmeasurable gift, and what you can do with it, while it last.

I leave you with my favorite Buddhist meditation technique:

"Since death alone is certain, but the time of death uncertain, what should I do?"

Remember Johnny and the good times you shared with him, pray and/or send your loving energy to him and his family, think about your gifts of life, health and love, and how you can use your time on earth to better somebody else's life.

Let's all fight together.

Love, health and peace,

Your Coach.