podcast intro

Coach Rick, an experienced youth sports coach, shares his coaching journey and offers insights to parents and aspiring coaches. He recounts his transition from being a mediocre athlete to excelling in track and field, which sparked his passion for coaching. Coach Rick explains the origin of his nickname, "Gotcha Coach," and reflects on a challenging experience in Little League baseball where he faced parental backlash. He discusses the impact of coaching on his family and highlights his extensive coaching experience across various sports. Coach Rick emphasizes that his advice should be taken as suggestions rather than absolute truths. He promises to cover topics such as coaching boys versus girls, handling different types of athletes and parents, and balancing coaching with family life. He encourages listeners to reach out to him for comments and questions. Hey there, sports enthusiasts, and welcome to the first podcast of Gotcha Coach. I am your host, Coach Rick, and I have been coaching youth sports since 1968. During the next few weeks, we'll be looking back at some of those times in various sports that I have coached that shaped my coaching philosophies and led to my successes, my failures, and all things in between in hopes that I can impart some knowledge onto those parents, grandparents, or anybody else that is contemplating making that jump into coaching youth sports. I wasn't a spectacular athlete growing up in San Jose, California, especially while playing Little League Baseball. It wasn't until my junior year in high school that I changed sports, stopped trying to be the football, basketball, and baseball player that my parents wanted me to be, and went out for the track team where I set a school record in the 100-yard dash and the 4-by-1-10 yard relay. Yes, I said yards and not meters, and yes, I am that old. Gotcha Coach. So, where'd the name come from? Well, you see, these are words that have stuck with me since a 7-year-old Little Leaguer named Richard uttered them after I had given him instructions at a Little League baseball game in 1968. Being called Coach at the ripe old age of 15 was special then and only grew in importance over the 55 years that I proudly wore that hefty moniker. The year 1968, the Vietnam conflict was escalating, North Korea seizes the USS Pueblo and its crew of 83, Martin Luther King was assassinated, as was Democratic presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and I became a Little League coach in Cupertino, California. I got into coaching when my youngest brother started playing Little League as an assistant to my dad, who was the head coach. I L O V E LOVED coaching this age group and found that I was pretty darn good at it. In addition to teaching the basics, I had the rare ability for my age of being able to spot athletes who had better skills than others and began to coach them in more advanced skills – drag bunting for left-handed hitters, running the bases and making the defender make that perfect throw, faking a steal of second base with a runner on third, and then falling halfway to the base so as to draw the attention away from the other runner so they could score, and some other things that parents didn't appreciate, especially at this age. My dad and I had made quite an input on the league. However, our success was not as long-lived as I had hoped, and a life lesson was about to be dumped on my head, and it was a lesson that would rear its ugly head a few other times during my career. Our minor league team was having a very good season, and we found ourselves playing for the championship in a game against a team that we had broke even with during their two regular season matchups. Throughout the regular season, one of our most trusted players was our catcher. This 10-year-old could stop anything and had a rifle for an arm, but his family had scheduled a family vacation that would keep him from playing in the championship game. Now finding a 10-year-old that wants to play catcher is one thing, but finding a 10-year-old that can play catcher is another. Dad and I worked several other players in the weeks that led up to the game and found a player who was okay at the position and reluctantly agreed to fill in. His father approved the new position for his son and went into the game feeling hopeful. Game day had arrived. Dad and I got the boys together before the game, gave them the win-one-for-the-Gippers speech, and then told them that no matter what the outcome of the game was at the end of six innings, they were all champions in our book, as long as they gave it their best. The game was tight, and as we entered the bottom of the sixth inning, we had a slim one-run lead, and our new catcher had done a decent job behind the plate. Our position grew as our opponent with two outs had runners on second and third base, and we had two strikes on the batter. Any strike, a caught fly ball or a fielded ground ball and throw to first base would give us the championship. Our pitcher throws his pitch. The batter swings and tips the ball, which, if caught by the catcher, would have been a third strike and a victory. Well, you guessed it. He dropped it, so the batter had another chance, and then proceeded to hit the next pitch far enough to the outfield to score the two runners on base and give the championship to our opponent. Dad and I thought the season was over, but apparently several parents, including those of our new catcher, decided to go to the board of directors for the league and file a complaint against us for placing too much pressure on the boys and setting expectations way too high. Well, I was allowed to remain in the league as an assistant to any head coach that wanted me, but my dad was politely ushered out of the league since he was the adult. This incident impacted my family in many, many adverse ways and set it on a path that none of us could have seen. You see, my mom was extremely active in the league and was in charge of running the snack bar. This meant that we had candy, hot dogs, bubble gum, and everything else that you can imagine stored in our garage and fridge area. She spent hours and hours working in that darn snack bar, as did me and my oldest sister when my mom couldn't get any other volunteers to do so, and that happened a lot. Our family relationship with the league deteriorated a little bit every year, as did my mom's health. She began to exhibit a variety of mental and emotional issues that were brought on by league members that were shunning her, and, well, let's just say that my mom was not accustomed to not being in the limelight. This was my first lesson in coaching. Parents can be crazy. All of this continued for the next five years, but it's somewhat of a blur as far as the details. You see, I had found my place in 1969 as a member of my high school track team. Turned out, I was pretty darn fast. I was somewhat of a star on the team and ended my senior year in 1969 and 70, and had found what I wanted to do with my life, coach. Actually, I wanted to teach, teach high school music and be the track coach. Oh, did I neglect to say that I was a member of the high school choir? Did I neglect to say that I was the bass section lead and a school district soloist and had my own barbershop quartet in my senior year? Yep, I was kind of a big thing in the music world in my high school during my senior year. So when I graduated high school in 1970, I went to a local junior college, now politically correctly known as a community college, instead of a four-year institution. I majored in music, joined the track team, and got a part-time job as an assistant coach for the junior high track team where I had attended earlier. This to me was initially the way that things were supposed to be, but I soon found out that I did not have a quote-unquote functional left hand when it came to doing things like playing piano or playing the guitar. I became frustrated with my shortcomings and decided to shift my priorities to teaching and coaching. This decision changed my life for the next 50-plus years, and I can't wait to share that decision with all of you. It has been my overall joy and pleasure to have coached both boys and girls from age six to 18 in many different sports. Baseball, softball, basketball, soccer, track and field, and cross-country running have all played a major role in my life and the life of my family. I've been a baseball umpire, a basketball referee, an AYSO soccer referee. I've served on both the Little League and AYSO soccer board of directors and have coached all-star squads in both sports. I have been responsible for putting on summer all-comer track meets in South Lake Tahoe, AAU track and cross-country meets with eight to ten teams, and high school meets including a league championship. And I am a USATF level one certified coach. I've taken over high school programs that have been in trouble and started a high school program from the ground floor at its beginning. So what does this all mean? Does it mean I know everything about everything there is to know about coaching? Absolutely not. Does it mean that you should take everything that I share in this podcast as gospel? No way. But it does give me a bit of credibility and all I ask is that you take what I say as possible ways to start or continue your coaching career, no matter how long it should last. We'll talk about the difference, other than the obvious, between coaching girls and boys. We'll talk about how a 19-year-old with just over one year experience becomes a head coach of a girls track and cross-country team. We'll discuss the challenges of making travel arrangements, including lodging. We'll talk about handling different types of athletes. We'll talk about the handling of different types of parents. We'll discuss the differences between coaching and what I call a lower competitive sport situation, like AYSO soccer, where everybody wins, and a highly competitive sports situation, like high school track and field. We'll talk about how coaching can affect your family life, positively and negatively. We'll even talk about the lighthearted subject that I call the best 100 reasons why not to come to practice, and much, much more. If you want to make comments or ask questions, you can do so by contacting me at CoachRickB5.com. I hope you enjoyed this podcast and will recommend it to your friends and to anyone that you know who is considering getting involved in what I consider a wonderful and worthy career. Until we meet again, take care, be safe, laugh a lot, and tell somebody that you love them.