youth sport issues – PARADIGM Sports

My Story – Part II – My Greatest Fan

Posted February 29, 2016January 27, 2022 Glen MulcahyPosted in Parents, Uncategorized

My Story – Part II

My Greatest Fan

Glen Mulcahy February 29, 2017 – Revised May 9th, 2020

BONUS – Download a Free Copy of this Blog in PDF Format HERE

On Oct. 8th 2013 I lost my biggest fan, my mother, who lost her 2 year battle with Cancer, the last of many hurdles she had to overcome during the course of her life. I am the oldest of two boys, my brother is 4 years younger than I and we have many memories of my mother and how she dealt with adversity starting when I was 5 years old in Montreal. She and my father had gone to a dinner party and upon their return, they had to swerve to avoid a car that crossed the centre lane on the way home. Our babysitter took a call from the hospital saying they would not be coming home and she would have to stay with us overnight. The next day my father came home with my mother and explained that mom had been thrown from the car through the front windshield (seat belts were optional) and suffered a broken leg and whiplash. My father had a couple of broken ribs as a result of having to avoid the car and lost control colliding straight into a telephone pole. Later that day when I was with my mom she asked me to get dad, and I recall it like it was yesterday. She said, “Bobby … I can’t feel my legs.” He immediately called an ambulance and they whisked her off to Montreal Neuro, where some of Canada’s elite neural specialists practiced. It turned out that she did not have whiplash, but a broken neck and broke two of her spinal vertebrae. My mother was put in what I refer to as the Frankenstein machine, a full-body apparatus with screws into her skull and back to stabilize her neck and spinal column. Multiple surgeries were to follow in order to repair and fuse the broken vertebrae in her neck and spine. My father was unable to take care of me and my brother due to work commitments so he arranged for me to go to my Nanny’s and my brother to go to his parents (Grandma and Grandpa). They would take us to see mom every couple of weeks but I was separated from my dad and brother for almost a year. While living with my Nanny, I signed up for hockey in Ottawa. When I did visit Mom she would always ask how hockey is and I would say I was having fun but missed her watching in the stands. She eventually was released from the hospital a year later and WALKED out refusing to sit in a wheelchair. My family was back together and my dad got a promotion to go to Baffin Island to run the power grid for the North West Territories. My father was known for a practical joke that he was infamous for was turning off the power on New Year’s Eve for the entire NWT. I played hockey there as well and my mom was back to her seat in the stands, cheering me and both teams on. She was there for my Gordie Howe Hat Trick (goal, assist and a fight). At 7 years old I got a penalty for fighting (more so wrestling) with one of the Eskimo players that were jawing me on the ice. Just as I had to defend myself in areas of French Quebec, a boy with carrot red hair was always a target amongst the Eskimo kids, After my hockey season, my family moved to Vancouver, where I continued to play hockey and baseball (another game my mom was always present for and cheered me on) and my father passed away tragically. My Nanny and Papa, came out to help and suggested we move back to Montreal, where our big family (I had 13 uncles and aunts between my mom and dad) could support us. We moved back and I played hockey and baseball once again in Montreal. My mom got a job in Toronto the following year so we transferred there and I made my first rep team in Peewee at 11 years old. We had GREAT coaches and a great team. We won the Ontario provincials and qualified for the Quebec Peewee Tournament (not what it is now but was a great experience). Once the season was over My mother then sat down with me and my brother as said it was time to go back to the house that Dad built. We moved back to Vancouver and I continued to play hockey, baseball, and also football. My brother was also very athletic and was playing hockey, football, and lacrosse. When I was going into my second year of Bantam and my brother was second-year Atom, my mom sat down with us and confessed that the only way she was able to afford to pay for all the sports was the life insurance she received when our dad passed away and it had now run dry. Due to the accident that lead to her broken neck and also a bad accident she had when she first started driving, my mom was too nervous to drive and we relied on taxis to drive us to all our away games as my mother was very proud and did not want to ask parents or coaches to do so. We became friends with one driver in particular and he gave us all kinds of concessions, but it was still getting too costly (I always wondered how my mom was able to afford all the taxi rides). The end result, both my brother and I had to stop playing hockey as it was the most costly of the sports we played and had many more travel games than the other sports. I decided to focus on football and baseball that I could not only use the same cleats for (I improvised) but had significantly lower registration fees that covered everything else including equipment. I could also walk, run or bike to the field for practices and home games. Away Games our mother conceded to let parents or the great coaches drive until I was able to drive on my own. As a result, I never did suffer the level of criticism that many kids have in the ride home like this 9-year-old boy highlighted in the video produced by our good friends at True Sport Canada. My mother was there for me and my brother through thick and thin, she was there for as many games as she could regardless of what sports we played. She cheered, clapped and gave us kudos after every game. Neither of us experienced what has now become the “infamous ride home” or have any recollection of other parents or coaches screaming at my teammates or officials like happens in every youth sport today. I had fun playing all of my youth sports, had great coaches, the experience was positive and they taught me numerous of life lessons that I carried into my work, school and businesses as well as the 20+ years I have spent as a coach. My mom then supported both of my kids on their journey playing various youth sports and activities. She was able to make it to my daughter’s High School Graduation in May of 2013 but regretfully will not be there for my son’s or any other of their other big milestones like university graduation, marriage or becoming parents themselves. Sadly, my greatest fan is not there to see me go down the path to further mentor coaches, educate parents and executive members to address the issues that I have seen come to fruition in youth sports. I do know though, she is clapping and cheering me on as I go down the tough road before me to implement the changes we need to bring the game back to the kids. As each Mother’s Day comes each year after she passed away (hard to believe it now has been over 6 years) not do I miss my mother dearly, but I also miss what she shared with me, my brother, then my kids, my niece, and nephews every time she came to see us “Play”, whether it be a myriad of different sports, or being involved in a school play, musical theatre, band or what have is what she shared with all of us afterwards with a huge smile on her face, sometimes with tears if pride ……

” I Love Watching You Play”

Hopefully during this time of hiatus during physical distancing period to flatten the curve of COVID-19 as a parent you have reflected on just that, when larger gatherings are permitted again and kids return to the sports they love (hopefully more than one per year) that you look it the same way. I know how much it meant to me when I heard those words every time my Mother was able to come to see me play, and I look forward to the time where I can share those same words and positive praise for my Grand Kids down the road.

My Story – Part I – The Greek

Posted February 11, 2016January 27, 2022 Glen MulcahyPosted in Parents, Uncategorized

My Story – Part I

The Greek

Glen Mulcahy February 11, 2017

football player in uniform on field on one knee

BONUS – Download a Free Copy of this Blog in PDF Format HERE

I have been involved in sports my entire life and 3 years ago I was reminded why I played youth, high school, and collegiate sports. Every year I do an informal study with all of my hockey teams asking the players at the beginning of each season why they play hockey. The top answer every year was always “because it’s fun.” In early January 2013, the damage to my right knee (after three surgeries to my left knee) from all the years of playing contact sports, finally resulted in yet another surgery. Afterwards, the surgeon shared with the me what he had done and stated it was evident I was a former hockey, football, and rugby player and it would be weeks before I could return to normal activity. A couple of days later while I was icing my knee, I got a call from a friend asking for the contact information of a former work mate. I hobbled to my computer and eventually found it on Facebook. Once I provided the information I hung up and went back to ice my knee until the phone rang again. I thought it was the same friends again confirming the information but instead it was another friend, John, asking “have you heard about The Greek?” The Greek was the nick name he called my best friend Ari, the gentle giant. I played every sport possible with Ari including football, high school rugby, adult recreation hockey (beer league), baseball, flag football, skiing, golf and even racquetball. My friend stated that his brother saw a Facebook post that Ari passed away. I was in disbelief and immediately tried to confirm whether it was true. John made some other calls and later informed me that it was indeed my best friend and best man, who had tragically passed away in his sleep from a heart attack. Ironically, although Ari and I had been friends for over 3 decades, we were not friends on Facebook. We were traditional and either called or visited to stay in touch. I was a mess from the news and was unable to drive on my own so I waited until the next day to go see his family (my second family). When I entered the door his mother (my second Mom) greeted me with a big hug and tears. His father did the same and all other close family members who came to offer their condolences to Ari’s wife, Christina, and their three kids. I was at the house for hours that day and for the days that followed planning the service. One of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life was work on Ari’s life story (Greek tradition where the priests deliver the story on behalf of the family) and I spent the better part of the two days writing it with his brother and a close family friend. The result was many tears and much laughter. His story, is very similar to mine on many fronts. He was born and raised in Montreal, and started playing hockey in his youth on outdoor rinks. He then moved to the Vancouver area, where his parents opened a restaurant and he shifted from winter hockey to playing community football in the fall and rugby in the spring. It was on those fields that our friendship evolved to 3-decade brotherhood. When we graduated high school, Ari got a partial scholarship to play football for a junior college in Mexi-Cali and he said you should come, try out as a walk-on. I had already committed to play junior football in the fall locally and started my post secondary education at a college to play rugby in the spring so, regretfully, I declined. Ari and I were able to keep in touch and every year he would come home for Christmas and summer breaks. He would share all his crazy stories and explain what it was like to be in a fraternity, play football and go to college. I admit that at times I regret I missed out, but I made the decision to stay in Vancouver largely because I had moved so often in my youth until Grade 8. At this point, I could not think of a better city than Vancouver, BC, Canada to reside. I ended up playing U18 rugby and attended the BC summer games after Ari headed to Mexi Cali. Our summer games team won the Gold Medal, which is one of my proudest sports achievements before entering College. Ari was mad because he had skipped a grade and was older than I and did not qualify to go to the games as he loved Rugby as much as I. Ari then went to Kansas following “a girl” to another college where he was offered a half-ride scholarship to play football. She ended up not being THE girl but that’s aside the point. You’re probably wondering what this has to do with why kids play sports? It has everything to do with it … there is so much more to sports than running drills or winning games. Many lifelong friendships result from sports, which in turn, become best men or maids of honour at weddings, get invited to their kid’s birthday parties, baptisms or other milestone events. I was completely out of place at all the Greek functions, being a hot-headed Irish boy, but I became a man largely due to his parents, Gus and Helen, who affectionately called me “Malaka” (someone that uses no common sense but in Greek it has an entirely different meaning). Had it not been for that first spring and summer sweating it out on the football or rugby field when we were 14 years old or for all the times going over to Ari’s house, our lifelong friendship would not have evolved. It has been just over 3 years since I contributed to Ari’s life story and sadly attended his service. It is just as hard now to think of losing my best friend as it did then. Ari was like a brother to me. The one solace I take is the positive memories of the sports we played and how much fun we had, all the life lessons we learned, and all the values we learned. Sportsmanship, respect, team work, work ethic, and leadership abilities all blossomed within sports. These experiences have helped me be a parent, entrepreneur, and become a long-term coach and mentor for both youth athletes and now adult coaches. We had GREAT coaches when I played youth, high school, and collegiate sports and I have no recollection of seeing parents act like they do now in the stands or sidelines screaming at players, coaches or referees. It was FUN to play organized sports, even more so unorganized street hockey, flag football, rugby or other activities that I played with my best friend, his brothers, and cousins from the Greek community. We literally had the equivalent of two full teams coming out to PLAY whatever sport we opted for on a particular day. Just as the case with many that play youth and high school sports, the majority play until they finish high school, some play collegiately, even fewer play pro. Most get jobs, married, and have kids where the tables turn for us to pay so our kids can play like we did. It’s been like that for generation upon generation except this one…. the American Journal of Medicine announced that today’s generation of kids are projected to have a 5 year shorter life expectancy than their parents – the first time EVER in history. At Ari’s service there was over 1000 people from the Greek community that attended, and everyone agreed that “no parent should have to bury their child.”

http://www.designedtomove.org/

Let’s do everything we can so that we can get the 5 years back for our kids.