coaching

They Named the Field After Him

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I wrote this post 9 years ago. I repost it as a memorial to a man who influenced so many lives as a teacher and coach and continued to do so in retirement. 

Reeves passed away.

Just a few short weeks ago, I was fortunate to talk with Reeves at the Staples-Motley Athletic Hall of Fame celebration. His 1983 State Champion baseball team was inducted into the HOF. At the reception held after the program, Reeves was in rare form telling stories and telling jokes. The table he was sitting at was full, as was the standing room around it, by those who were impacted by him. There was a great deal of laughter and joy, and probably feelings of thankfulness for having him as a coach so many decades ago.

I imagine his funeral will be quite full, as well. Maybe more tears than laughter, but still feelings of thankfulness, and maybe some wondering of how we were so fortunate to have Reeves cross our paths in life.

I sure hope everyone has a Reeves in their life

What does it take to get your name on a ball field?

Well, in the current professional and big-time college sports arenas, getting your name on a sports venue takes big-time cash. Just in Minnesota, we have Target Field, Target Center, Xcel Energy Center, TCF Bank Stadium, and – take a deep breath – the Mall of America Field at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome.

In a small town, it takes a lot more than cash – it takes a lifetime of dedication, commitment, passion, and service to the sport you love.

Last week, I took a short daytrip to my hometown of Staples. In addition to visiting my parents, I attended the ceremony naming the high school baseball field after the coach for whom many of the high school baseball players graduating from Staples High School had the pleasure of playing.

From now on, when players and fans step onto the Staples-Motley High School baseball field, they will be walking on Jerry Riewer Field, though they could have also called it “Reeves Field”, because Reeves is what all of us call him.

Reeves was very successful as a coach, with a state championship and a runner up in baseball, and a state championship and a dominant program in cross country. He has been inducted into numerous halls of fame and has a cross country meet named after him. I could list all of his awards and his coaching stats but that information is available to anyone interested in looking for it.

I am more interested in sharing what he accomplished that is not written down in any record book.

I am more interested in the impact he had on those of us who played for him.

What is not written down is the fact that Reeves coached every level of baseball, from Little League to Legion, and sometimes all in the same summer.

What is not written down is the number of sandlot games Reeves organized so we had more opportunities to play baseball.

What is not written down are the countless phone calls Reeves made to us, asking us to show up to the game early, and with a shovel, so we could get the field ready to play a game.

What is not written down is how Reeves modified his van by taking out the back seats and building benches along the sides so he could drive the entire team to away games. (By the way, the benches had removable seats so all the equipment could be stored underneath.)

What is not written down is the memory of Reeves dragging the all-dirt infield at Pine Grove Park with his ’55 Chevy, using the springs of an old mattress as a drag.

What is not written down is the number of his players who teach their kids how to play baseball by saying “Reeves taught us…”

What is not written down is the care he took to prepare the field, no matter if it was for a high school tournament or a Pee Wee game.

Finally, what is not written down is the love of baseball so many of us have and pass on to our kids because of being coached by Reeves.

Twenty years from now, when future generations step onto Jerry Riewer Field, I hope someone takes the time to share with every fan and every ballplayer why the field is named after Reeves and remind them the impact one person with dedication and passion can have.

Congratulations, Reeves, and thank you!

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“Fire the coach!”

Posted on by Phil Corbett

That is often the solution offered to the problem of a team not performing up to expectations, whether those expectations have any basis in reality or not. The carnage coming off most any NCAA Division I sport season is evidence of that.

I know it comes with the territory. Many Division I college coaches get paid big money and if their teams do not achieve the success expected, the coaches often lose their jobs. Of course, many of them find another high-paying coaching job so I am not suggesting we pass the hat to help them with their moving costs.

Still, I do wonder if it is easier to fire a coach because of wins and losses than it is because of their behavior.

I am not interested in debating the hiring and firing of college coaches, though. I would rather focus on coaches who get paid a lot less, if anything at all. Unfortunately, some of the same expectations filter down to the high school and youth sports levels, as well.

With the exception of a few years in the middle, I have coached in some capacity since the mid-1980s, a decade of so of those years as a head coach of a high school wrestling team. In regard to wins and losses, my teams experienced a little success (emphasis on “little”) and a few individuals were able to experience greater success, but nowhere near the success I would have hoped when I started my coaching career.

Early in my career, I thought part of being a coach was being able to yell. I remember one day, as a JV baseball coach in my early to mid-twenties, observing one of my players driving recklessly out to the field for practice. What the player did was unsafe and I needed to deal with it. While his teammates played catch in the outfield, I laid into him “real good” for a few minutes near the pitcher’s mound and it felt good. Later that night, I told my roommate about what happened and how good it felt to lay into the player. He did not say much, if anything, but he gave me a questioning look.

I was too proud to fully realize it that night but that look told me I did something wrong. The next day, when I got to the coaches’ office, the player’s uniform was nicely folded, lying on a chair. At that point, the reality of what I did hit me. My actions led to him quitting the game he loved. Once again, my pride got in the way and I never apologized to him. I do not remember his name so I don’t even know to whom I should even apologize now. I can honestly and humbly say, it is one of the biggest regrets in my life.

I am glad to say my focus changed as I aged. At our pre-season meeting, I would often say to my wrestlers’ parents, “you have given us coaches great young men to coach, our hope is that we give them back to you at least a little better when the season is over.” I still wanted them to experience success on the mat but I knew I would not be happy with the job the other coaches and I did if they were not better human beings after three months with us.

When it comes to wins and losses, there were some seasons I should have probably given my salary back. When it comes to being a part of the lives of young people, though, there is no salary in the world big enough to match the pride I feel when I come in contact with some of the wrestlers I have had the honor of coaching and see the men they have become.

Now, as the parent of athletes, and not as much a coach, I get to sit back and watch other people coach my kids. My behavior as the parent will be reflective of my character and will indicate just how sincere my belief that teaching athletes to be good people is much more important than a good win/loss record. (Not that you can’t have both.)

As my compass, I rely on the example set by the parent of one of the most successful wrestlers I coached. I am sure there were times when he thought I could have done things differently or when he wished we had a better program. Still, after every meet or tournament, he always said, “Thanks, coach.”

I don’t care if it is t-ball, summer rec, a varsity sport or the major leagues, if the coaches are treating my children with respect and teaching them to be better human beings, they better hear me say, and only say, “Thanks, coach.”