Charles Darwin said: “A man’s friendships are one of the best measures of his worth.” I am certain Darwin was referring to my friend Jerry when he spoke those words.
Several years ago, a man in his 70s approached me after a game I had coached. He extended his hand, introduced himself as “Jerry,” and told me he “liked the way my team played.”
I thought it was a curious compliment, since my team had just gotten walloped and, with the loss, broke a dubious school record for most turnovers committed in a game (*That’s is not hyperbole, either. It’s 100% true!)
But there was something immediately likeable about this man. He had a pleasant smile and genuineness about him. We chatted briefly. When he mentioned that he was an acquaintance of the opposing team’s coach, I joked that I would try not to hold that against him. Jerry laughed.
I didn’t realize it in the moment, but that interaction would be the beginning of a cherished friendship.
In the weeks that followed, I heard from Jerry on a near daily basis. He sent me texts and emails about upcoming opponents, prospective recruits, and relevant current events—each composed in Jerry’s own unique style of shorthand.
In time, I became quite adept at deciphering Jerry’s seemingly cryptic messages and grew to appreciate their efficiency.
About a month after our initial meeting, Jerry called me, insisting that I accompany him to watch a prospective high school player whom he thought would be a great addition to our team. I had never heard of this player, so I wasn’t especially eager to accept the invitation. But Jerry was adamant that the trip would worthwhile.
So, I agreed to meet Jerry at a midway point, a truck stop along Interstate-80, and accepted his offer to drive the rest of the way.
Snow was starting to accumulate, and a winter storm was looming when I got to the meeting spot. I wondered if I had made a bad decision. But Jerry soon pulled up in his pickup truck, pushed the passenger door open, and said, “Hop in.” It was a scene right out of the 1990s Nick Nolte movie Blue Chips.
When we finally got to the gym, it was packed. But Jerry got us seats. He seemed to know everyone at the game, from the ticket takers to the coaches to the players to referees to parents. And they all greeted him warmly.
I don’t remember which team won the game that night. I don’t even remember the name of the player we went to watch. (We never signed him.) What I do remember, however, is how much I enjoyed the car-ride conversations with Jerry.
Despite being nearly twice my age, we clicked. He was a truly interesting person.
Jerry would become a fixture at my team’s games after that trip. He would always sit right behind our bench. I looked forward to him stopping by my office or the locker room to chat after the games. He had a knack for relaying helpful insights without being intrusive.
When I changed professions and moved to a different state, Jerry stayed connected. He continued to send me his cryptic, shorthand texts and emails, and I continued to enjoy receiving them.
Somewhere along the way, Jerry became more than a friend; he became a teammate.
When I released a new book, he would be among the first to buy a copy. He shared my books, blogs, and social media posts with many others. I have received dozens of emails over the years that begin: “My friend Jerry forwarded me your blog and…” or “My friend Jerry gave me a copy of your book and…”
One time, I was walking down the street and a priest stopped me. He said he had just read my book and recognized me from the jacket cover. I learned that Jerry was the person who gifted that priest the book.
Sadly, Jerry passed away last week after a short bout with throat cancer. Like a lot of his other connections, I will miss him terribly.
Jerry’s good teammate “superpower” was his ability to maintain connections. Anyone can make an introduction or initiate a new connection, but maintaining a connection is an entirely different skill—a skill that Jerry mastered.
We can all learn something about being a good teammate through Jerry’s example. It wasn’t only his shorthand texts and emails that endeared him; it was his Facebook comments, reactions, and ongoing interest in my daughters’ activities. It was him sharing news stories or book recommendations.
Jerry worked perpetually to maintain our connection, which is exactly what good teammates do.
My family and I had the pleasure of dining with Jerry and his lovely wife Connie on a handful of occasions. They were married for 59 years and were a wonderful couple.
During a some of those of dinners, we got to meet members of Jerry’s extended family. I couldn’t begin to count how many times he told me how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. They meant everything to him.
Please keep Jerry’s family in your thoughts this week. And in his honor, make an extra effort to reconnect with a former teammate. Then, work perpetually to maintain that connection. If you can do this, being your friend will be a blessing—just as it was being Jerry’s friend.
As always…Good teammates care. Good teammates share. Good teammates listen. Go be a good teammate.
