When I was between coaching gigs at Vero and Sebastian River High School (SRHS,) I coached in the Sebastian Panther League for a couple of seasons. It was my dream to coach my own son while he was still young. I was the Head Coach for the 9-10 year old kids (Mighty Mites) I have a good friend (Tom Hall) who helped me out. We had a decent group of kids that year. They were not especially big, nor were they especially talented, but I noticed they played together very well. Might be interesting I thought.
There was an advantage to having a QB as a son. I got to take my QB home with me every night; therefore, the learning curve for my QB was reduced greatly because I could introduce new plays and work with him at home. When I got to practice, I could really focus on the rest of the offense to quickly bring everyone else up to speed on what we were doing. These kids were not a typical mighty mite team. They were basically running a high school based offense (Wing-T) along with some Pro-Set (2 back split and some I formation) We would overwhelm many of our more-talented opponents by running so many different offensive formations which they would-not or could-not adjust to. It was pretty sweet. These were still young boys who were really playing above their heads. Early in the season, we played the weaker teams, so motivating the kids was not always necessary; however, when we played the stronger more-talented teams, I had to bring the kids up for the game that particular week. I used to dream of ways to motivate the kids.
Early in the year, we played a team from Titusville on the road. We started the season with 2 games at home, so this was our first road trip. I filled a 5 gallon pail with dirt from our home field (the dirt we used to fill holes in the field) Right before we went onto the field, I asked that each boy grab a handful of dirt, and as we walked onto the field from the endzone, I wanted them to sprinkle the dirt onto Titusville's home field. This way, we would be playing on our own dirt. I remember their coach was pretty pissed off as he and his team watched our kids throw dirt onto the field. He tried to use it as a motivational thing for his team, but it was too late. He made a crucial mistake by taking the field first and allowing us to make a big entry onto his home field. If the coach is reading this blog, always remember: NEVER, NEVER allow the visiting team to dictate when the HOME team takes the field.
One game, we were playing The Rockledge Raiders "B" team (some of the larger leagues had multiple teams in one division.) They were 4-0 at the time, and we were 4-0 at the time too. A big showdown on-the-road was looming. I got on my computer and created a Rockledge Raider Letterhead and wrote each player a short letter and mailed it to their house. I can't remember the exact wording, but it went something like this:
Dear Sissy,
You guys are a bunch of Sissys. We think you wear pink girls underwear, and you cry when you get knocked down. We are going to whip you on Saturday.
Signed
Rockledge Raider Mighty Mites
You get the drift. I showed up for our final practice before the game and each player had that letter in his hand. Each player was just fuming bout it. The parents just rolled their eyes. I collected each letter and put in my gym bag. The next day, right before we hit the field, I dumped all the letters on the ground, and I invited the players to STOMP on the nasty letters. They tore into the letters, and they tore into the other team as well. We left with a record of 5-0.
Now this created a problem. What do I do now? How can I bring these over-achievers back up to play West Melbourne? I decided to send a UPS package to the practice field. In this package, I placed some baby diapers, hair ribbons (etc) and let the kids open the package. Of course, the package had: Property of West Melbourne Football written all over it. Again, this sent the kids into a rage. Some of the boys were so angry they literally tore up the diapers and left the mess laying on the sidelines. This was one mess I did not mind personally picking up. We easily beat West Melbourne the next day. We were 6-0. One more win and we would guarantee being home for the playoffs.
My dad was a master of getting players ready to play football. I remember when he was still coaching the Packers, Dad called us together before the game and informed that the Rams (our arch enemy) held a pep rally the evening before. During this Pep Rally they BURNED a Packer jersey and totally disrespected us. I think my Dad had tears in his eyes and everything. It worked. We beat the Rams for the league championship. When Dad started coaching at the high school level, he had an assistant head coach (Coach C.) who was going to the doctor for a heart checkup or something. Dad told the players that Coach C. was having heart surgery, and before entering the operating room, Coach C whispered into my dad's ear: "Tell the boys to win for ole Coach C" I think the team beat a large catholic school that day. Coach C was at the next practice. As you can see, I do get it honest.
Next up was Merritt Island. They were a loaded team. This means that when league has more than one team in a division, they will often (and legally) make one good all-star team with the older boys, and keep the younger boys on a "B" team. Their team was much bigger, much stronger, and way more athletic than we were. Their only loss (that season) thus far was to the Rockledge "A" team. How was I going to get my bunch of over-achievers ready to play in a game we had no business winning? Whatever it was, it had better be good.
I needed something that the boys could relate to. They were too young for the "Win one for the Gipper" story, so I started thinking. I had a customer in Stuart who's little boy just broke his arm playing outside. They placed a large green fiberglass cast on the arm. That's it. Other than that, there was no other relationship between these two stories. I will do my best to keep the story straight as you read it. My words will be in RED, and Petey's words will be in Green. This is written exactly like I told the story to the kids.
The Legend of Petey.
I have a customer in Stuart, and I had to measure some windows in her house. I walked into a bedroom to measure the opening. The first thing I see is a poster of Dan Marino. I also saw a small plastic football resting on the dresser: I said to the mother: "Someone in this house is a football fan!" I heard a little soft voice coming from the big bed on the other side of the room: "That would be me!" I walked over to the bed, and I saw a little tiny frail-looking little boy laying there. I said to the boy:" What is your name?" The little boy said: "My name is Pete, but everyone calls me Petey!" I said: Well, I am glad to meet you Petey, my name is Coach George!" The little boy said: "Why do they call you "Coach George?" I started telling Petey about you guys, and how proud I am of this football team, and how we were playing Merritt Island this weekend for the championship. Petey said: REAL FOOTBALL?" I said: YES. Petey said: "I would give anything to play REAL football, but I can't play because I am sick. My bones break real easy!" I said: "I will tell you what. When we beat Merritt Island, I am going to have the boys sign a football, and I am bringing it back to you!" Petey said: "A REAL FOOTBALL? I don't have a real football, just a plastic one. My Mom does not have much money, and she says that I really don't need a good one right now!" I said: "Yes son, a real football." Petey said: "That would be so neat." The little boy said: "Mom, I am getting tired, I need to sleep!" I said good bye and turned for the door. Petey said: "Coach, go and beat that Merritt Island!" Then, Petey fell asleep.
As I was leaving the house, Petey's Mom explained that he had a bone disease which made his bones very brittle. If fact, they often break as they rolled him over in bed. This disease was very painful, and it would eventually take his life. I left with tears in my eyes.
I told the boys that we were going to sign the game ball with a white marker and I was giving it to Petey. I had some little round, gold stickers, and I took a magic marker and printed a P-12 on each sticker. We were placing these stickers on our helmets, and Petey would be playing WITH US, as the 12th man. FINALLY, Petey will walk again and play REAL FOOTBALL! We are going TO WIN THIS GAME FOR PETEY!!!!! By this time, I was really emotional. The boys went absolutely crazy. They yelled and screamed for Petey!
I looked up and all the mothers and grandmothers were crying. Most of the fathers and grandfathers all had to walk away because they were so emotional. The other coaches had to step away to gather themselves (I never bothered to tell them the truth.) I knew the story was powerful, but I had no idea of the magnitude of the story. Tom Hall was very choked up. I was going to tell Tom about my fabrication, but he got so emotional I could not get the words out.
We went out and played nearly a perfect game that day. The boys were making tackles, and looking up into the sky and screaming: "That's for you PETEY!" I forgot the final score, but we won the game. The kids went crazy, and the crowd went crazy. The boys signed the game ball and I took it home promising to give it to Petey the next day.
I took the ball home and tossed it into the attic.
By the next week, the story grew it's own legs. It just got bigger and bigger. We had team mother's wanting to take up a collection.for Petey's mother. Coach Tom Hall wanted to bring Petey to the next game by special ambulance. The Cheerleaders made these special homemade cards for Petey! Linda Rothstein (The Press Journal) wanted a story on Petey. It just got too big, I was really stuck now. Petey had to go.
I spent the next week preparing for the Final game....The Super Bowl. We were playing Rockledge' "A" team who was very powerful and undefeated (in fact, this was the nucleus of the high school team who won the state championship a few year's later.) That week, I fended off all questions about Petey, and I tried to focus on the game; however, I had a plan to end it all.
Game Day: I gathered the players together for a pre-game speech. I had quite an audience surrounding me as I began to speak. I announced that Petey did not make it. He passed away with his game ball under his arm. I wanted them to keep the P-12 on their helmets, and play this game for Petey. This was a bad, bad mistake. Instead of being motivated, the kids were devastated. We played like crap and lost to a superior team.
Thus, this is the legend of Petey. Was this wrong? YES! Would I do it again if needed? Maybe! It was a powerful legendary story which is still talked about today. Most of the players are now in their mid 20's. Most of the guys figured out the truth many year's ago. If any of you guys are just now reading the truth, I am sorry! LOL. My son Mike figured it out like this: I sent Mike into the attic to look for Christmas lights. He moves a few boxes and I hear: "HEYYYYY, what's the Petey ball doing up here?"
I may just burn in hell after all. LOL
Great stuff!!!!
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