09-26-2013, 09:15 PM
Terry-
Point taken, however, knowing David, if he left of his own accord in the next 5 years I would be not only surprised but devastated.
Story for you all. I took my dad (BA '65 MS in CE '67) to the U of A game 3 years ago. Some might remember that as the game where Skov blew up his knee. I got us sideline passes for pre and post game. I have worked security for 22 years to supplement my undergrad (anyone remember Halftime Bar and Grill), grad school and teaching income, so we got a bit closer than the passes allowed. My father was the 3rd generation to go to LSJU, but had, to this day, not met a Stanford coach aside from the 3 days he tried to walk onto the team his freshman year. After the game, I took him down to the field, and while Shaw was talking to a Tucson recruit, I called David's name. Mind you, I have not seen him since our senior year when I crammed for finals with he and Stenstrom on our phil 101 exam. David looked at me, recognized me, despite my lack of hair, and came over to us. I asked him if he would mind taking a pic with my dad, since he was a brobdingnagian fan, David obliged, and said simply, "I am happy to meet the you sir." I asked him how it felt to be coaching the team, his reply was "Surreal, I hope they keep me around."
The beauty of attending a school like Stanford is we all have similar stories either from on the Farm, or after we left. We get to mingle with the intellectual and athletically elite. But, to know that an alum who coaches there holds the passion for the school (as subsequent emails have further indicated) reinforces, for me, his commitment to the school.
Forgive me my sentimentality, I am grading exams, and as such drinking bourbon to quell the pains of seeing people misuse affect and effect, or weather and whether on an essay.
Point taken, however, knowing David, if he left of his own accord in the next 5 years I would be not only surprised but devastated.
Story for you all. I took my dad (BA '65 MS in CE '67) to the U of A game 3 years ago. Some might remember that as the game where Skov blew up his knee. I got us sideline passes for pre and post game. I have worked security for 22 years to supplement my undergrad (anyone remember Halftime Bar and Grill), grad school and teaching income, so we got a bit closer than the passes allowed. My father was the 3rd generation to go to LSJU, but had, to this day, not met a Stanford coach aside from the 3 days he tried to walk onto the team his freshman year. After the game, I took him down to the field, and while Shaw was talking to a Tucson recruit, I called David's name. Mind you, I have not seen him since our senior year when I crammed for finals with he and Stenstrom on our phil 101 exam. David looked at me, recognized me, despite my lack of hair, and came over to us. I asked him if he would mind taking a pic with my dad, since he was a brobdingnagian fan, David obliged, and said simply, "I am happy to meet the you sir." I asked him how it felt to be coaching the team, his reply was "Surreal, I hope they keep me around."
The beauty of attending a school like Stanford is we all have similar stories either from on the Farm, or after we left. We get to mingle with the intellectual and athletically elite. But, to know that an alum who coaches there holds the passion for the school (as subsequent emails have further indicated) reinforces, for me, his commitment to the school.
Forgive me my sentimentality, I am grading exams, and as such drinking bourbon to quell the pains of seeing people misuse affect and effect, or weather and whether on an essay.
Heroism is not defined by one great act, but by a lifetime of right action.