It's Always Worth the Memories

In my four years at Central, I’ve come to realize a few things about myself and what I like, dislike, believe in, and don’t believe in. Some are big things, others pretty petty. But still things I’ve learned these last four years.

For starters, I don’t believe in moral victories whatsoever. In sports, a loss is a loss no matter how you spin it. In academics, an F is an F regardless of how hard you tried on the project. If you talk to any of the basketball players, you won’t hear any of us make an excuse for our game vs. Hyde Park this year—we lost. Period. There was no moral victory, and Coach Drye never pretended that it was alright; it was never alright to lose. And that was something I’ve learned, especially from Coach Drye and the teammates I had the pleasure of playing with my four years here. Even my freshman days in basketball with Brendan, Tom, Russ, Nick, Spencer, Jose, Seabass and all the other guys, it was never okay to lose; we always had fun—I can even recall Seabass throwing me through a table about an hour and a half before my best game of the year—but never did any of us ever accept losing. That was elevated to a whole new level the past two years in basketball. Coach Drye pushed the entire team beyond where anyone thought we could possibly go: back-to-back SCC Champs, back-to-back Sandwich Thanksgiving Tournament Champs, a Regional title, going 30-1 at home in two years and undefeated at home this year. My team’s will to win was something I’ve never seen; it’s unparalleled. We refused to lose. Anyone who attended our game at St. Ed’s this year remembers what a bad game that was for us. Nothing went in, we got two technicals, we made stupid mistakes … we even had to play man-to-man defense for the first time in two years. We were down the entire game, but we never flinched. When it came down to it, we clamped down and did what we had to do to win—we refused to accept the fact that it was ok to lose a game. We did have fun though—Piano Man and Jump Around probably aren’t your everyday warm up songs five minutes before you take the floor, but they were for us. And AK’s pre-game speeches were surpassed in greatness only by Mike and Nick’s mimicking his every move right behind him. We had fun, but our preparation was unbelievable. I can remember preparing for Regionals junior year, and having to guard Mike in practice. If coach hadn’t been there, I’m pretty sure Mike would have beaten me to a pulp. That’s how hard we pushed each other—to the point of fighting our own teammates. And that was a daily occurrence, that type of intensity. It’s a lesson I’ve taken from my coach and my team that I try to apply to every other facet of my life—hard work, intensity, and attention to detail.

Second, I really don’t like when people slack off. Something I learned in football from Coach Curry was that—just like it’s not ok to lose—it’s even worse to not put the effort in. My teammates thought highly enough of me to vote me team captain this year. That was a huge honor and thrill for me, but it came with a lot of responsibility. And though some of the guys think it’s funny to kid me for my “Come on! Let’s go!” speeches that I gave—in hindsight—maybe a little too much … I hope those four words symbolize what I tried to stand for: for effort and heart. I may not have been the best player, but I did what I could to help my team. That’s something I’ve learned from football, and from the entire coaching staff, and in particular Coach Curry. With Coach Curry—as anyone who’s ever taken his class can attest to—it’s never okay to be unprepared, to not do everything you can to do the best you can, to do something halfheartedly. With football and with Coach Curry, there was never a place for excuses—you were judged solely on effort and performance. That was the only criteria. That’s a concept that’s been instilled in me, and in every football player, for the past four years. That’s a lesson that I’m going to do everything I can to take with me.

Third, I’m really not a big fan of clichés. “Time flies when you’re having fun” is a saying I’d rather not hear in a serious conversation. That being said, there is a cliché that—though kind of annoying—is entirely true. “The only place ‘success’ comes before ‘work’ is in the dictionary.” It’s been said probably thousands of times. Even still, it’s true. And another, slightly less annoying one is this: “Success cures all.” And in the past four years, I’ve found both to be pretty true. This year was really evident for basketball. We had a phenomenal season my junior year. All of a sudden, students take an interest, newspapers want to come to games, away games have more Central fans than home fans. I like to think that our success in basketball helped to unite the school—even if it’s just a little bit, and for just basketball season. Success helps everyone—more confidence, more unity, and more fun. But in order to get that success and all the benefits, you have to work hard. I’ve been a three-sport athlete my entire high school career—as have many of my friends and teammates. And that’s taught me that those two clichés I mentioned above are absolutely true—especially the one about hard work.

I can remember the summer 7 AM lifting Monday through Thursday for football. Then coming back for two hours of absolute physical hell for basketball that night. Then 7-on-7 football competitions on Saturday mornings and all-weekend basketball tournaments. Sprinkle in some summer league baseball in there, and it’s a full demanding schedule. That being said, I wouldn’t trade a day of it for anything. I wouldn’t trade the Saturdays of triple-headers at Lisle High School in the summers for baseball for anything. I wouldn’t trade the feeling of being so sore on Sundays from the entire week for anything in the world. I wouldn’t trade the hot summer league games in North Central College’s upstairs gym for a single thing on the planet. All these things go hand-in-hand with sophomore year baseball coming back on St. Francis the last game of the season down 7 runs in the last inning to win. Those things go hand-in-hand with beating Marmion 27-21 at Marmion for Coach Curry’s 100th career win. They go hand-in-hand with a Regional crown and my little piece of net that I’ll have forever. Because the hard work I’ve put in, the long hours of practice, the downs of losing, the highs of winning, and everything in between means more to me than anything else.

So to Coach Curry, Coach Casey, Coach Sellen, Coach Sheedy, Coach Fulara, my brother Coach Brauweiler, Coach Tom Curry, Coach Kramer, Coach Kennedy, Coach Tim Kramer, Coach Swann, Coach Goodson, Coach Hartman, Coach Armato, Coach Schuster, Coach Drye, Coach Dan Drye and Coach Bieritz … thank you. And to my teammates, my fellow Chargers … thank you for four of the best years of my life—athletically and otherwise. The past four years have truly gone by entirely too fast. I can still remember Joe Wollwert’s Heisman pose after he got his one pass of the year (in practice). I can still remember how much fun I had sophomore year in baseball. I remember the Regional run for basketball junior year. I remember quite clearly the words “Galena and back” coming out of Coach Casey’s mouth this summer. But I make no distinction between all of these memories—they are all as fresh to me as if they happened just yesterday. The past four years, Central has truly been a home to me. And so to all of you reading this, I thank you, because you have been a huge part of my life.

As my last article ever for the Central Times, I feel it necessary to leave you with something. So I leave you with a cheesy, cliché motto I try to live by: “Go big, or go home.” In this life—in sports, in academics, in anything—it’s all in or you get nothing. So if you take anything from me—even if the “Come on! Let’s go!” speeches, or the fact that I was the loudest one at every girls’ basketball game, or my stellar performance of “Who’s On First” with Brendan at Mr. ACC don’t stick with you—let that motto stick with you. Go all-in all the time, in everything you do. In the end, it’s always at least worth the memories.