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	<title>WIRL Project &#187; Son</title>
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	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
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		<title>An Open Letter To The Parents Of My Players</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/an-open-letter-to-the-parents-of-my-players/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/an-open-letter-to-the-parents-of-my-players/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 02 Jul 2015 08:30:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[News/Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[advice]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Athletic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Baseball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Boys]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coaching]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Diamond]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[High School]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Letter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Son]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sons]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sports]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=5378</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Parents, Let me begin by first thanking you for the opportunity to coach your son. It is an honor and a privilege to have the ability to work daily with young men, helping mold them into upstanding citizens through the game of baseball. It is a tremendous responsibility that I take very seriously. Baseball has the ability to teach young men a lot about life. Humility, respect, and accountability are just a a few characteristics and traits that can be developed from this great game. Players build confidence by encountering adversity through competition &#8211; a distinguished environment that teenagers need to be exposed to as early and as often as possible in order learn from and manage its outcomes. Lessons learned on the baseball diamond are vital to understand that in life, success is earned and not easily obtained. Baseball offers players the chance to learn the difference between entitlement and earning it. Too often we are societal victims of instant gratification and front-running with the winners until they are no longer winning. Players build confidence by encountering adversity through competition &#8211; a distinguished environment that teenagers need to be exposed to as early and as often as possible in order learn from and manage its outcomes. The unfortunate side of the great responsibility as your son&#8217;s coach are the many difficult decisions I am faced with each season regarding the 18 players on the roster, as well as the rest of the entire baseball program. The biggest decision of each season occurs well before we step foot on the field. Each season I decide to volunteer my time to coach your sons and teach this great game. Although I receive a coaching stipend, by the end of the season it calculates to pennies per hour for the amount of time my fellow coaches and I spend with your son. I assure you, I am not in it for the money. The season is roughly October -July. Over that time period I spend, on average, approximately 20+ hours per week with your son (excluding Sundays). This is nearly four times the amount of time that I get to spend with my own son. During the season, I get to see my son during waking hours for a maximum for 45 minutes per day, in the morning before I leave for work. I rarely get to see him in the evening because I arrive home from practice, or a game, well after he has gone to bed. This decision also impacts the relationship I have with my wife. Six days a week she is left handling all of the household responsibilities as virtually a single parent. I am fully aware of sacrifices that all parties endure when it comes to my annual decision to return to coaching baseball. I know what I am getting myself into and so does my family. I have one of the most understanding, loving families anyone could ask for. The season is roughly October -July. Over that time period I spend, on average, approximately 20+ hours per week with your son (excluding Sundays). This is nearly four times the amount of time that I get to spend with my own son. Some of the other major decisions I have to make revolve around managing playing time during the season. There are many things in this life that I am, and things that I am not. I am a man. I am a husband. I am a father. I am a professional. I am in my 13th season of coaching high school baseball. I have coached several players that have gone on to play at the collegiate level and professionally. I have evaluated and coached hundreds of players with more than enough experience to know how to coach the game and what it takes to win. At this level the game is a results driven business. Playing time is and always will be non-negotiable. Playing time may be discussed in the proper forum, in a professional manner with your son, and one of my assistant coaches present. Politicking, bullying or personal attacks over playing time in person, by email, text/phone will not be tolerated. There is nothing worse for a coach than to be confronted in the parking lot post-game or to get home after a long road game and to receive a blistering parent email right before going to bed. A coach experiences many sleepless nights, not out of concern over a reactionary parent email, but for the welfare and safety of his 18 sons. If an issue does arise, I ask that you carefully consider and reconsider your position AFTER discussing it with your son, before orderly asking for a meeting. I will be glad to address your rational questions and concerns. Baseball is one of the most difficult sports to coach because, at one time, the general population of young boys grew up playing Little League. Therefore, there is a large percentage of fathers who believe they have the ability to coach the sport because, at one time, they played and/or because they still watch it religiously on TV. Please do not be this father. Monday Morning Quarterbacking at home after the game, coaching from the stands, or giving your son in-game adjustments contradicts all that my staff and I have worked so hard to develop with your son. It also completely undermines the coaching staff and our philosophy. More times than I am willing to admit, I have been coaching during a close game and a boisterous father will scream directions to his son, from the stands, that directly involve in the play. The player immediately reacts to the sound of his father&#8217;s voice, makes a poor in-game decision, and it inevitably costs our team the game. Some of my favorite parents of all-time are those that were seen and not heard, allowing the coaches to do their job and coach. Baseball is one of the most difficult sports to coach because, at one time, the general population of young boys grew up playing Little League. Therefore, there is a large percentage of fathers who believe they have the ability to coach the sport because, at one time, they played and/or because they still watch it religiously on TV. Please do not be this father. If you see me off the field and I appear to be standoffish, I apologize. It is not that I want to avoid you. I simply do not have anything to talk about. I have nothing left to give you after I have left it all out on the field. This is how I coach. I bring nothing home at night after a game because I bring everything home. The short-lived wins, the long-lingering losses.  Your son&#8217;s individual successes and defeats. I will always give my best to your son and I am asking for you to return the same towards our coaching staff and our program. Thank you again for allowing me to teach your son the greatest game ever played. Sincerely, Coach]]></description>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I See My Father in My Son</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-see-my-father-in-my-son/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-see-my-father-in-my-son/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 18 Jun 2015 09:00:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sara Brennan]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ALS]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Blue Eyes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Child]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Drool]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Father]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goodnight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lou Gehrig's Disease]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Parent]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Scribble]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Smile]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Son]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Talk]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Toddler]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7102</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I see my father in my toddler son when he looks at me – they share those same gorgeous blue eyes that can cut glass or melt your heart. Their eyes are filled with love and challenge; the kind of love that only a parent and child can understand. The kind of love that can endure temper tantrums, heal boo-boos, and teach you significant life lessons. Their blue eyes change colors with their temperament and health, almost like a chameleon. When they’re not feeling well, their pale skin exemplifies the color into a rich, deep blue and when they’re feeling proud, they are just right mix of blue and whatever color confidence might be. Interestingly enough, they share the same I love you, but don’t like your right now look as well – I’ve seen it enough from my father in my teenage years to immediately recognize it in my own child, even though he’s still just a baby. I see my father in my son when he smiles – their eyes squint in the same kind of way. Their personalities are infectious, they’re both social beings, and thrive on attention. They even have a similar forced chuckle when they find something funny. The best thing about their smile is that it’s so genuine – you can actually feel the happiness beaming from their bodies like warm, bright, glowing rays from the sun, which his why people love to be around them. The best thing about their smile is that it’s so genuine – you can actually feel the happiness beaming from their bodies like warm, bright, glowing rays from the sun, which his why people love to be around them. I see my father in my son when he’s happily eating my father’s secret family recipe of homemade spaghetti that I’ve prepared for him for dinner; it’s one of his favorite meals. They both love it greatly and could devour large plates of it – more than any one man or boy should ever eat in one sitting! I thoroughly enjoy watching my son gobble down this meal, not because he’s adorable and completely covered in tomato sauce when he’s done, but because it almost feels like my father is sitting right there at the table too, enjoying this special meal with us. I see my father in my son when he gets frustrated or doesn’t get his way. They’re both wired with the same short fuse that can instantaneously take them from zero to one hundred. They’re passionate, driven, and intense. I see this mostly when my toddler son is trying to tell me what he wants, but can’t quite get the words out. When he is pointing and saying what he needs, as best as he can, but can’t quite articulate, just as my father did. Secretly, I enjoy being one of the only people who can actually understand the slurred, mumbled language they speak. Sometimes it makes me feel privileged or honored that I can help them in that way, however, I wish I never had to have this role with my father. They’re both wired with the same short fuse that can instantaneously take them from zero to one hundred. They’re passionate, driven, and intense. I see my father in my son when I’m wiping the drool from his chin. How I wish I didn’t have this memory. Although my son drools from teething, my father had a very different cause. His weakening throat muscles weren’t working well anymore, causing the saliva to build up in his mouth and sometimes fall out the sides. Oftentimes he would choke, so I would use a suction tube to stop the drainage and make him more comfortable. Just as I do with my son, I would wipe his chin and clean him up without hesitation, all the while, his blue eyes were silently saying thank you. I saw my father in my son when he was learning to walk. He would take a few steps, stumble, and then cling to something to help him stand. For my sweet toddler boy, this was an exciting milestone, however when my father experienced this same stumbling, it meant something very different and grim. See, my father had been suffering for 5 years. Suffering from a terrible disease that took everything from him, including his ability to talk and eat, walk or travel, socialize, function, and eventually breathe. As his body and muscles atrophied, we all prayed he would continue to be able to walk as it was about the only thing he had left going for him, but, towards the end, his disease began to rob him of this as well. For my sweet toddler boy, this was an exciting milestone, however when my father experienced this same stumbling, it meant something very different and grim. I see my father in my son when I hand him a pencil and ask him to draw for me. He clumsily holds it the same way my father did when he would try to write me notes to articulate his words during the last few days and months of his life. He would scribble a few things here and there, mostly happy faces and sad faces, or little hearts that meant I love you; they weren’t words, but it was enough – I knew exactly what he meant. Just as I now do with my son, I saved many of these scribblings, as it was one of our only ways of communicating to each other in this stage of his life; and on this paper, I hold special memories of my father. I see my father in my son as I put him to bed every evening and we go through our nightly bedtime routine. I am always brought back to that hot summer night in July, when for the first time, I went to bed without saying goodnight to my father. It wasn’t on purpose; I actually forgot. Typically, we would have sat together for a while, sometimes a long while, watching TV and I would rub his hands and feet, which were sore and achy from not functioning well anymore. Honestly, sometimes I would try to avoid this nightly routine because, although I loved this time together, he would keep me there for much longer than I ever intended to be, but I didn’t purposefully avoid him on this July 14 night. Somehow, before falling asleep, I realized we had not done our regular nightly TV bonding session and I felt bad. I even said to my husband, Ah, I forgot to say goodnight to my Dad!, but it was late, so my husband and I agreed that I could just wait until tomorrow, but tomorrow never came. I am always brought back to that hot summer night in July, when for the first time, I went to bed without saying goodnight to my father. On July 15, 2007, at about 5:00 a.m., my father, Dominic Andriacchi, died from cardiac arrest caused by Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) or Lou Gehrig’s Disease. I never got to say goodbye or goodnight. I think of this everyday single day, especially when I am putting my son to bed. I think of my father every time I squeeze my son, give him that goodnight kiss, give him one more hug, and tell him I love him. I will never miss this opportunity again; my father taught me the importance of this. I never got to say goodbye or goodnight. I think of this everyday single day&#8230; I see my father in myself when my son wakes up from a bad dream and I comfort him. I assure him, just as my dad did with me in his darkest of days and scariest of times, that everything is going to be alright, even though I have no way of being certain of this. As my parent my father was strong, even when he was dying. As the child, I believed him when he said everything would be OK. I wish I could have done that in return for him; maybe I did? In hindsight, I wish I could have assured him that everything would be alright, especially that one last time – but I didn’t and I often have to ask myself, why? Was this always part of the plan? Would I have known I was going to be saying goodbye instead of goodnight that night? I’ll never know. I see my father in my son every day. His blue eyes are looking at me with love, thanks, and confidence. I know they are both proud of the job I’m doing as a daughter, wife, mother, and woman. But, if I’m being honest, I’m just doing the best I can; thankfully they both saw and see so much more in me. Thankfully, I had the opportunity to know my father, but my son never will – which is why I am so proud to see so much of my father in my son. &#160; &#160; &#160;]]></description>
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