You Gotta Believe

The year 2023 has arrived, and with it, the hope that it will be a year of renewed faith in the word “democracy,” sustained or better health, as appropriate, for ourselves and our loved ones, some exciting new life adventures, and certainly, significant and sustained relationships with those who make up the fabric of our lives. That’s a pretty big order, but as our former Men’s Basketball Coach, Jack Margenthaler was famous for saying to exhort his teams to play harder, “You gotta believe,” and so they did. I’m simply suggesting that we need to believe good and meaningful events will transpire, as to think otherwise is to guarantee failure and frustration. Consequently, let’s opt for the words of Coach Margenthaler. Last year is behind us and 2023 is out there, ready for us to explore, appreciate, and enjoy.

Jack Margenthaler was a “gift” to the Western Illinois University and Macomb community.  He was not only an excellent coach but also a local personality.  Even when his teams struggled a bit, fans would flock to Western Hall to enjoy the “Jack Margenthaler Show.”  He was passionate, colorful, animated, and engaged.

He also has a great sense of humor.  I was coaching Gordon III’s YMCA team of 10 year olds one Saturday morning when Coach M stopped by the gym.  He looked at me, looked at the scoreboard that showed 30 seconds to play, pointed and said, “Well, Gordy, I’ve had some tough games, but we never got shut out 25-0.”  Two men—one a real coach and one a pseudo coach—had a good laugh.

Gosh, I seem to be on a “Margenthaler roll.”  When Gordon III was 12 or 13, he entered a local free throw contest and who should be standing there watching a nervous youngster hit 14 of 15 but Coach Jack.  He walked over, put his arm on Gordon’s shoulder and said, “You’re a little young, but I could use a free-throw shooter like you.  Remember, Gordon, always remember, you gotta believe.”  The man just has a way with people.  That is his gift.

When I first started my blog about three years ago, the expression, “The Fourth Quarter” was pretty much intended as a “throwaway” line to acknowledge the reality that I was, for better or worse, aging.  The challenge was how to cope with that fact in a manner that was more optimistic than pessimistic and let readers know that we are all together on this journey through life.  It will be ripe with wonderful anecdotes of uniqueness for each of us, but that we can surely share them with one another which is precisely what I have attempted to do here. Death, sickness, Covid, disappointment sure, however still the theme for each of us can be “upward and onward” as we progress through the proverbial Fourth Quarter. 

Diane and I have lost a good many friends the past year, more than we would ever have anticipated a mere twelve months ago. It made me question the blog entry I wrote about regarding that miraculous train, chugging down the track picking up and dropping off passengers on my journey to ultimate eternity. Frankly, that story deserves repeating so here are the words of Malcolm Tilsed on the Train of Life:

“Life is like a journey on a train—With its stations—With changes of routes—And with accidents!  At birth we boarded the train and met our parents, and we believe they will always travel on our side. However, at some station our parents will step down from the train, leaving us on this journey alone. As time goes by, other people will board the train, and they will be significant i.e. our friends, children, and even the love of our life.  Many will step down and leave a permanent vacancy. Others will go so unnoticed that we don’t realize that they vacated their seats which is very sad when you think about it.  This train ride will be full of joy, sorrow, fantasy, expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells.  Success consists of having a good relationship with all the passengers…requiring that we give the best of ourselves. The mystery to everyone is we do not know at which station we ourselves will step down. So we must live in the best way–love, forgive, and offer the best of who we are.  It is important to do this because when the time comes for us to step down and leave our seat empty–we should leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life. I wish you a joyful journey this year on the train of life. Reap success and give lots of love. More importantly, give thanks for the journey! Lastly, I thank you for being one of the passengers on my train.”

So here’s my dilemma. My train, just as you have yours, has been the composite of my life’s adventure, just as your train is yours. But damn it, something is happening to the riders on mine and maybe yours as well—passengers are getting off with greater frequency than they are boarding. In the early days of my youth, lots of people were getting on, and a few as I got older, began to get off.  Now, reluctantly, I find the process reversed, as age is beginning to thin out my ridership and more people are getting off than getting on and I seem to be moving closer to the front of the train and whoever is up there as the locomotive engineer.

I never thought about this very much until it happened but indeed it has and while the end result is rather obvious, I intend to believe my Fourth Quarter is just getting started and new passengers will soon appear and by golly, they have.  In September, a member of my floor when I was a resident assistant at Western reached out to me and we have rekindled a long dormant relationship. Just this week, an alum and member of Tau Kappa Epsilon fraternity reached out, and we have begun corresponding after many “lost” years. 

The train keeps chugging along and gladly mine has picked up a couple of new riders who will join me for years to come. We are laughing and telling stories and reliving memories from our youth and it has been refreshing. I’m a realist and know these “new additions” will not be the same as dear friends of 40, 50, even 60 years duration. There simply isn’t enough time. What they will do is make me realize that my train continues to travel down the track with new passengers and my time to step off into eternity has not yet arrived. “You gotta believe.”