The week before Christmas break that year, we raced to get decision letters out so that we could leave for the holidays without anyone waiting to hear from us about acceptance. We beat the clock by two days and everything was ideal. The day before we were to break, I was sitting in my office, waiting to leave for the faculty and staff Christmas party when a mom walked into my office. Before I had the chance to say "hello," she started yelling at me. Actually, "yelling" does not capture the true verbose and unrelenting nature of the attack. It might better be described as the wailing and gnashing howl of an infuriated banshee. Not a breath could be discerned as I watched this little grey envelope raise and lower with the vocal assault on me, the school, the students, the teachers and an often used reference that began with my mother. I was both slightly terrified and at the same time in awe that this enraged lunatic person in front of me could continue for such a long time in her extraordinary attack. I made countless verbal ducks and weaves to squeeze in a word, but it was hopeless until, well, she had to sneeze. I took the split second opportunity and said, "did you open the envelope?"
Inside, after her ravenous destruction of the evil shroud that surrounded her letter, she read, in quick order, the words, "accepted" and "scholarship." She stared at me for a moment, and walked out. In our race to beat the holiday deadline, I had forgotten to order the big envelopes, and so all the letters went out in small envelopes. Four years later, when I shook her son’s hand at graduation (who nothing of the event), she stood many yards back…you see, as she explained to her friends many times, "if HGP had just sent a large envelope, none of that would have happened. It was Ryan’s fault. He should be ashamed of what he
mostly stay quiet. This mom created a nightmare in her mind before she let the bright light of the good truth illuminate her path. As Mark Twain once said, "I have been through some terrible things in my life…some of which actually happened." It never bothered me that the mom blamed me or never apologized. We were trying to the right thing and I believe, sincerely, that we did. For the last twelve years in the admissions office and the last eight in hockey, I have been yelled at, called names, reminded how little I know and confidently dismissed as naïve, brainless or playing politics. I am pretty accustomed to the routine and shared success. There are going to be conflicts and disagreements. There are going to be scheduling issues and times when everyone’s expectations are not met. These are unavoidable elements of playing organized sports. Let’s all use our energy to cheer, to play harder, to be more focused, to applaud and to support.
As our games begin and rosters develop, it is essential that we all remain positively focused on our
We are all in this for the same reasons – and no one is getting rich or famous off our high school hockey games. Please know that my unwavering vocation is to support our players with every energy and skill that I possess. I know our coaches share this commitment. My sincere prayers remain, as always, for our shared achievement and success.
If you have a question, ask. If you see a conflict, confront it – the right way. Don’t wait until the opportunity to improve is so far passed that the one-time quick fix is now an unnecessary complex project. You may not like the answer or the solution, but at least you will be given the chance to ask or argue your case. made me do."
