CCA:  Coaching Culture In Athletics

Life Lost to the Past

 

As I sit and contemplate the meaning of death and the possibilities of the universe, I engross my psyche into the unknown.  If we were to ponder the questions of what happens after death, is there a possibility that our spirit is truly limitless within the universe itself?  Jumping from one past examination of life to the next, would we be better off in our current human form?  To truly examine the philosophical meaning of death of the human and a spiritual rebirth, one might garner the necessary meaning of life as we know it.  The ability to grasp the one true magnitude of life in the spiritual sense can play lofty in our enterprise as human beings.  The fate of humanity depends on finding answers to what is beyond the veil of flesh existence.

 

 

 

 

Life has a tendency to throw many curveballs in one’s development on earth.  There are plethora of stories that depict humanities great stories and the human drive for meaning.  Whether it be a inner city youth aspiring to get out of a dark hell on earth, or a families drive to get out of debt, the true stories shine bright in the make up of who we are as the people of earth.  What if I were to tell you that many of us have lived multiple lives on multiple planes of existence?  What if I were to tell you that we could all learn from our past lives and aspire to do greater things in our short time on earth?  Have I garnered your attention yet?  The Adventures of Chaz Anthony are great and many.  The ability to tap into past lives can have both a positive and negative affect on our spiritual makeup.  How we deal with our past can and will have some type of effect on our spiritual development long after the current lives we are living.

 

The beginning…

 

Throughout my life, I have lived a great meaningful life full of great memories and learning experiences.  Although, there have been many valleys and limited peaks in my existence, I can truly attest that there is good in our world today.  A while back, I had a great conversation with a great friend of mine who really nailed what life is all about.  He stated that if we were to truly listen when it was needed and truly share love and light with our constituency, life would be worth living.  He went on to say that no matter how bad it gets, our lives can and will be filled with love and joy, only if we aspire to let in the light from the darkness. 

 

Growing up, I had the opportunity to live in a home of love and joy with the occasional belt or wooden spoon.  I laugh at times reminiscing back to the day that my mother bent me over and broke a wooden spoon over my ass.  Today this would be considered child abuse.  But you know I made it out with flying colors at times I wonder how much better I would have been had my mother hit me a few more times.  I laugh at this not because it was a pleasant experience or that I liked that sort of thing, I laugh because as I look back on those times of learning, I was able to focus in on what or who I would become.

 

There were multiple learning experiences in my life, almost too many to note in one book.  With that said, I want to share a couple that really transpired who I am today. 

 

 

 

My trip to town for a malt with my brother…

 

I can’t remember the exact year, but I know I was a small youngster growing up in rural Iowa with my three older siblings, two of which still living at home.  I idolized my brother John; a great athlete, friend, and brother.  John played football with reckless abandonment.  There are many stories that come to mind as I look back at my brother.  Today was like any other day growing up.  My dad was mowing the vast five-acre plot of land south of town and my mom was in the house cleaning and getting supper together for the evening.  John asked me if I wanted to take a ride on his motorcycle and head into town for a bit.  I didn’t even answer and motored toward the door.  We went to town, he drove around the square a few times, and we went to the Double R Dairy Bar on the outskirts of our hometown.  I loved my brother dearly and he loved me right back as long as I didn’t get to ornery.  After we finished our malt, we headed back home.  As we drive down the red shale driveway, we immediately noticed that mom and dad were up by the pond bank with dad all wet and mom sobbing.  I went up there with my youthful demeanor and said dad why are you all wet?  The glare and anger in the eyes and the love at the same time was almost too much to bear.  All I remember is my dad blew his top and mom held me tight.  The rest of the story I heard later on in my childhood, which we reminisce today.

 

As my mom tells the story, she went up to bring dad something to drink and to ask where “Charlie” was to my father.  Dad I am sure shrugged his shoulders and perhaps thought I was at the neighbors house playing cowboys and Indians at the time.  At that moment there were bubbles coming from the pond on the hill, I mom freaked out saying, “Oh Gerald he is in there!”  My dad immediately jumped into the pond searching high and low in the cloudy water within the pond.  I can only imagine how helpless this must have felt as I went through the same type of thing many years later with my own child.  They wept together and were deeply detached from reality.  As I rolled in on the motorcycle and skipped to the pond to see what was going on, later I would find that dad was really upset but deeply happy that I was ok.

 

This experience taught me the reality of life on earth and the embodiment of loving your children unconditionally. 

 

 

 

Déjà vu My own experience.

 

I have three wonderful children;  Chelsey, Peyton, and Katarina with the love of my life Stephanie.  There was a day in late July prior to the start of football season that I will never forget.  Chelsey, Peyton, and Katarina were in the house playing hide and go seek, while Stephanie and I were outside working in the yard in our little house in town.  Like many days, it was a hectic day filled with pain staking work, trying to make our little house our home.  My wife still shakes her head at the idea that we even bought such a house in the first place.  Later on we would make this our home through our thirties.

 

I remember going inside to get a drink and seeing Peyton and Chelsey watching TV and not seeing my little one running around.  I asked patiently to Chelsey, “Where is Kat?”  She said she would go and look.  Kat could not be found in the house.  I yelled out to Steph to come in and help us look for Kat who had to be around two years old at the time.  We were frantic and looked high and low within the house.  I told Chelsey to look under the beds to see if she was there.  She did and could not find her anywhere.  At this point I broke down emotionally in a rage and panic at the same time.  I told Stephanie to continue to look and I would go outside.  I ran from house to house cringing each time I saw a pool with a cover half on.  I remember calling my dad and telling him the situation.  I can only imagine how my parents felt with the prospect that their little two-year-old grand daughter had been kidnapped or worse. 

 

I cried, Stephanie cried, and we were running around the neighborhood like chickens with our heads cut off.  I decided to look under the beds again and low and behold behind Kat’s bed all the way in back under stuffed animals and pillows was my little girl snoring.   I held that little girl with her against my chest and my wife next to me and counted my blessings thanking God all the while.  I called the grandparents and told them she was safe and they were at ease.  Déjà vu or a life lesson that needed to be taught much like my parents during their experience with me as a child so many years prior? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“In the Moment”

 

Charles Banks

 

August 5, 2015

 

 

 

 

Today I sit reminiscing of time gone by.  For many years I lived my life working numerous hours without contemplation of time spent with family or a deeper set of spirituality.  Tomorrow is a big day for me as I get ready for the upcoming football season, creating rosters in the mind, determining the play book set out by the head coach, and finishing up our pre-season camp in a positive manner.  Yet like any other year, August 6th is a day that will resonate in my mind forever.  This is my father; Gerald Banks birthday.  For years I was busy coaching, to tired from the heat to make the trek south of town to give my dad a hug or a kiss.  He understood and was always the first person to state how proud he was of me.  I would call him wish him happy birthday and plan our yearly birthday parties during the weekend.  My youngest daughter’s birthday happened to fall on August 14th so for a few years we were able to share their special days together.  I still have the photograph from the last birthday party when we were able to celebrate together.  My dad’s soft demeanor, which showed age in his eyes over his battle with cancer, but his resolve with life, was unmatched in my opinion.

 

Why am I writing such things these many years since his passing?  To many times we get caught up in the day to day grind that we sit and worry about things that are out of control, instead of living each day in the moment.  It is the moments that we ultimately remember.  The good and the bad memories resonate in our minds.  Last night I sat with my wife Stephanie and my youngest daughter Katarina around the fire before retiring to bed.  During this quiet moment, I was able to recollect to all the times that I was too busy to spend time and interact with my family.  Don’t get me wrong I am totally interested in all facets of my family and love them dearly.  But for the most part, we as a society are so caught up in technology and worrying about what we do not have that we forget the most important aspects in our lives; our family.

 

My dad was a special breed of soul.  He loved, he lectured, he yelled, he showed compassion, he led by example, he was honest, and he was always around interested in how his family was doing at all times.  I think I do a great job always being there for my children and family, but the idea of becoming the man that my dad was is an entirely different perspective.  He was my dad, my role model, my agent, and my best friend.  Spiritually speaking many would call me weird or a spook in regards to my paranormal beliefs.  But my dad wouldn’t as I am sure he is smiling in heaven at the idea that I would never give up in this life in my quest for finding answers in the afterlife, or the chance to communicate again even before we meet when I close my eyes for the very last time. 

 

Dad, I have so many great things to tell you.  My love for Stephanie grows stronger everyday; our marriage is as sound as a mansion on top of a hill.  Your grand daughter Chelsey was just sworn into the Army and will leave for boot camp at the end of September.  Mom says that you are probably bustling with joy in heaven.  Peyton is doing so well adapting to school, he has many friends and is doing very well in band, chorus, and the arts.  Your youngest granddaughter Kat will be starting 7th grade this year dad and she is going out for cross-country.  I know it in my heart that you will be watching the wind blow in her face as she competes towards excellence.  I want you to know that after our victory last season at Keokuk in football that I knew you were there and the joy surrounded me and I pointed to the sky feeling overwhelmed with the small victory in my life and knew it in my soul that you were proud.  Dad you continue to be my measuring stick towards greatness.  Love you always dad; see you later on down the road.

 

I want to say happy heavenly 77th birthday dad.  I love you beyond the moon and the stars in the sky. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Battle Begins          Charles Banks  

        Monday July 13, 2015

 

The battle over good and evil penetrates the very fabric of any person considered to be spiritual. 

 

Contemplations of things to come,

Wonder what I might have done,

Peering out of the corners of my mind,

My soul you do try and bind,

The intentions that you attract within,

Always implicitly demean in a way of that might have been,

The personal dogma,

The batch of hate and discontent,

The haze of ridicule,

Why on earth do you contend to continue to drool?

Panting,

Panting,

Panting,

Yes I can hear you aloud into the night,

As the fight rages on and in sight,

My spiritual magic,

Might be considered to be tragic,

Guilt and thoughts of life long past,

I fight with light so you can go on and be cast,

Away from the inner soul,

Your teeth sink in to toil and plunder,

As you constantly try and pull me under.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A penetrating darkness upon darkness penetrated the light of the early day.  Like a million flying insects penetrating the morning sun, it enveloped into a figure of a being from another age far older than our own.  As it stood at the eastern most point of the Atlantic, it stood tall over taking everything in its wake.  Horns begin to emulate within the darkness and a yellowish red haze for eyes peers into the soul of everyone within its path.  Over thirty feet high it continues to manifest in early morning haze of New York.  Each time it moves, waves extend and smash into the mainland of the east coast.  The being seems to communicate within the mind, hissing disease and malice into the air.  Growing in mass, the being raises its dark mass high over its head.  A roar of a thousand locusts erupts from the opening entrails that appear to be a mouth masking from the darkness.  A blue sky turns to red and yellow haze.  The sun becomes blotted out by the growing mass of darkness.  People run and take cover as the mass slowly circumvents the Manhattan area.  In a loud almost triumphant hiss the being calls to the heavens to wreck havoc throughout the land.  A loud penetrating rock streams past the skyline.  With a light of a million atomic bombs deep in the Atlantic Ocean the rock implodes.  Within minutes the water all throughout the east cease recedes into the ocean exposing hundreds of miles land beneath what was once the oceans depth.  People all along the eastern seaboard looks in horror as the darkness continues to grow leaving all in its path to plunder.

 

Further south near Washington DC, a man is walking his dog with his child near the Washington Monument.  At first there were laughs all around the great monument of our country.  As the peace and serenity fades into darkness to the east, they too see the explosion far into the Atlantic.  Within minutes a mammoth wave of ocean nearly 100 foot high is seen moving rapidly towards the cities skyline.  Earthquakes unleash into the city.  The man looks in awe as his dog runs away after he dropped his leash.  He calls out to his child and runs and grabs the child’s hand to run away from the court area.  The Washington Monument buckles under the pressure of the earthquake and begins to crack.  Loud creaks and buckling cement can be heard all throughout the area.  He pulls his child close and the monument falls to the east breaking in half as it plummets to the ground.  Screams from a thousand people could be heard and a smell of sulfur appears out of the area.  The ground buckles near the monument opening up to what looks like fifteen volcano’s bellowing lava.

 

I awaken with a million thoughts going through my mind, coughing up trying to breathe, I attempt to collect my thoughts.