A very public THANK YOU

I don't know if you noticed, but I haven't been blogging much lately. For the past two months, I've hardly posted.

The reason is because my Dad was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer on July 31st. The cancer took him six weeks later, on Sept. 14th, a week before his 63rd birthday.

I'm doing well, thanks. My family is doing as good as possible. Actually, we had two funerals to attend in less than a week, as my wife's Grandpa Weibel died three days before my Dad did. Yeah, it was a rough week. I've never seen my 2-year-old daughter in so many black dresses before.

But I'm back at work now, and I'm all revved up to getting back to blogging, writing, editing -- just doing my normal thing again.

I want to say thank you to all of you who have emailed me, called me, texted me with words of support and encouragement. I've gotten calls from around the nation, heck, I even got a call from outside the nation. Superintendents are good people, and I'm happy I have friends in this industry.

Within the walls of GCSAA I've seen a lot of support as well. I've got a stack of sympathy cards here on my desk. The GCSAA Board of Directors and the GCM staff sent flowers to Dad's funeral. When my Dad was diagnosed, my big boss, Jeff Bollig, came into my office, sat down, and said, "We support you, take as much time as you need to be with your Dad." It might be hard to believe that Bollig actually stopped moving long enough to sit down, but trust me, he did! And it was a good feeling knowing that my co-workers had my back through all of this. I spent many days and nights with Dad through this time, and I'm so thankful my job allowed me the opportunity to be there with him in his time of need.

So, on behalf of the Jones family, including my late father Boyd, we say THANK YOU.

If you would like to see the Web site my sister created in honor of my Dad, click on over to here. There are lots of photos, and if you'd like to, sign the guest book!

Quick story about my Dad, since we're on the topic...

My Dad was always big into sports, especially basketball. But one sport he didn't know a thing about was soccer.

I was in 1st grade, I think, and I told Dad I wanted to play on a soccer team. Dad signed me up, took me to practices, and watched excitedly from the sidelines in my very first game. I'm sure I was nervous -- I was a nervous kid. But the game went by and I really don't remember much about the game itself.

After the game, though, I remember very clearly. We had just finished shaking hands with the other team, and I saw my Dad walking quickly in my direction. Then he blew right past me. I followed him.

He was headed for my coach. My Dad was upset that I didn't get a fair share of playing time. I was a slow runner, and the coach left my butt on the bench most of the second half. I didn't care too much, this was my first game, I really didn't know how it was supposed to go anyway.

"Why the hell didn't you play my son more in the second half," Dad demanded of my coach. The coach didn't want to hear about it. "Hey, you don't like the way I'm coaching, you come out here next season and do it yourself!" My Dad looked down at my coach and responded, "I'll do just that... and when we play your team, we're gonna kick your ass!"

Of course, I was horrified. My Dad was yelling at my coach, after all. What did this mean? Did I do something wrong? Would I be in trouble for the next practice? Heck, would I be kicked off the team? Was that even possible?

The rest of the season went off without any more blow-ups, and I did get to play a little bit more each game. Not because I was getting any better, but probably because my coach was afraid of my Dad. (My Dad was a pretty large guy... and my coach was a pretty small guy.)

The most important thing to me was that my Dad didn't like seeing unfair playing time in a kid's recreational league. And it bothered him so much that he did coach my soccer team the next year. In fact, he coached every team I played on for the next five years, soccer and basketball. It wasn't until I was in 7th grade, when I had my first non-volunteer coach, that I played on a team that didn't have my Dad as the coach.

My Dad's coaching style was this: As long as you hustled, you played. And everyone who hustled played an equal share of time.

We didn't beat that other team too often, the one with my first coach. But I think the kids on my team were having more fun. I know I was.

Comments

[Jerry Coldiron CGCS]

Scott, Cheers to your dads 63 years! He obviously raised a fine family and young man. You were blessed, and thanks for sharing your emotion and love of him. I am reminded of one of my favorite Jimmy Valvano (also died was to young) quotes: "My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me." Sounds like your dad and Jimmy had some common ground, and may be playing a little HORSE in a "Better Place" Our prayers with you and you family, Jerry Coldiron CGCS

[Lacy Ravencraft, Ewing Irrigation]

Seth, I commend your (and your family’s) courage.

I recently branded myself with new tattoo that says 'life is short. write your own story'. I want to thank you for sharing your story with us, and to let you know it brought something new and unexpected to my day; a powerful reminder that relationships are what matter most, in both our personal and professional lives.

I'm sending positive vibes out into the Universe for you and your family. Hope to see you again soon.