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LovePrints. One coach. One experience. No gun.

Here goes.
A little of my experience.
I was coaching football at an unnamed High School. ( I have coached at many, so this protects anyone offended by this sharing.) In the middle of hot August two-a-day practices, 90 plus degree heat, tempers are short, and nerves frazzled. Both the coaches, training staff, and players are all exhausted from dehydration, extremely hot weather, ridiculous football conditions, and the fight for positions and placement for the upcoming season. Mind you, the regular season had not started yet, just practices and scrimmages, so we were in the early phases of things.
I believe that this was the second practice of the day. We had just returned from lunch and recovery session, and were going through some individual drills in the days afternoon practice when among the whistles blowing and pads popping, I heard a voice scream out from the other side of the bleachers. It startled me. It was not a voice that I was familiar with among coaches barking, and players chanting. The voice was an adult male. “COACH SO AND SO!” “COACH SO AND SO! WHERE ARE YOU? COME FACE ME YOU SON OF A ……..!”
There was a pause, and then the voice bellowed out again from a different place, which let me know that he was on the move towards us. “COACH! YOU HEAR ME?!! COACH SO AND SO, COME FACE ME LIKE A MAN!” The voice had cut down the distance between where it was and where we were. I was at the far end of the field, which was closest to the early bellow rather than where he was now. I saw a shadow of him, and took off in a full sprint to the place where paths needed to cross before he would face players or coaches. I wanted to be there first. I needed to be there first.
Not one part of this is heroic. In the words of the local police, I should stay away, make the call, and let them handle it. I fully understood that. Who knows if they are armed or not. They are obviously angry and moved to the point of action. Even at school, it would take a while for them to get there. So I sprinted to where he was. I never looked back.
I got to the man behind the voice. He was the father of one of the players. We kind of knew one another, but were not friends. I asked him what was going on. He said that he had issue with the head coach and how his son was being treated and slotted for playing time. (Again, we are in summer practice, and slots were not assigned yet, and certainly, this was NOT the way to handle this. Approaching a coach about playing time is a big time no no. Approaching a coach during practice, with other players around, in public, another big no no.
I explained that this was not the way to handle this. But my inner dog barked that nothing was going on without going through me. Talk to me. Talk to me, so that it just remains talking. We do not want to do more than talk. Trust me. He barked a little more and then settled into an angry rage rather than an erupting volcano. Yes, being a big dude provided some buffer. I used it.
The head coach showed up after I did. At that point, things were in discussion mode, and they went off to talk about all of it. I looked around, and noticed something. Me and the head coach were the only ones that came running. Yes, my two buddies on the staff had their eyes on my back in case I needed them, but of the 10 or so coaches, only 2 were at the stand off point. I kind of chuckled. These were football coaches. Maybe they simply wanted no part of the confrontation. Maybe they chose to stay away. Or as my two buddies told me, “We heard him bark, and before we could react, you were already in full sprint. We knew it was going to be good. ” I also know and trust that if something popped off, they had my back. No doubt. The three of us chuckled about it. Insanity. Who shows up at practice and challenges a coach?!!”
Real talk. This could have gone horribly wrong. I am thankful that God has his hands on me. The head coach said he was impressed that I reacted and rallied as I did. He also noticed who did not. So did the players on the team. The KNEW.
This is not an uncommon occurrence. Adults misbehaving, parents flying off the handle, players being emotional. It happens often. Calm heads and big hearts can often solve the problems. Often, insanity ad chaos happens. There are mountains of videos of parents fighting, referees fighting, coaches fighting, players and fans fighting. To add to that with an expectation that teachers and coaches are in control of their emotions and faculties is a reach. It only takes one adult to cause havoc. It only takes one to set hundreds of angry reactions in place. And here is this, not everyone is there to thwart nonsense. It is not what they signed up for. Its not why they are there.
I am not a stand around guy. I get that. But, I am also not an escalator either. I made a horrible mistake. I was lucky and did not pay. I did not know why he was there, nor did I know his intentions. I simply reacted. Most did not. I don’t blame them. I just know that in every case where this happens, there are those mouthy folks who say they will react, and don’t. They cant. Actions are greater than words. They require more.
Lets not add weapons to the equation. Lets add love to it. Lets add common sense. Not everyone is built for it. Not everyone cares enough to react to it in love.
Posted in Weekly LovePrints
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LovePrints. The cure for darkness, is light.

Coach DP

LovePrints.

Learning and Loving through sports.

How about we put our brightest lights in the darkest spaces?

I have always known that sports can be a great connector in our society. It removes boundaries, introduces other cultures, expands our knowledge of other people, and brings us closer together. Athletics highlights the best in us and provides solutions to the things that hinder our ability to get along.

When I started LovePrints, I recognized that using sports as one of the vehicles for covering the planet in love was easy. Athletes are often highlighted, followed, serve as an example, and can rally the masses. If these athletes recognize their influence, they can be the leaders off the field as well as on. If we handle this properly, they will have as much impact in the school and community, as they do on their respective fields of play.

If we, as coaches, parents, and teachers cover these athletes in love, they will have more to cover others in love. If we cover them in love, nothing else will stick. That should be the mission. That should be the goal. Cover the leaders in love. Cover the examples in love. And then, watch those leaders do the same for others.

Often, we see images and videos of star athletes stopping by to visit and talk to other athletes. What if those star athletes made a point to go into the corners and dark places of schools, communities, and hallways to find those people who need love the most? What if they made a point to visit with, get to know, connect with, and befriend those loneliest and most disconnected of us?

The child sitting alone in the stairwell. The kid not chosen for games. The young one who does not have a team, or the one who does not belong to a club. How cool would that be? How cool would that be to have that connection?

Maybe this would shine a light on them. It might even do something for their self-esteem. It might add a few smiles, and maybe even make some new friends.

Imagine a baseball team of 25 players. If each player finds a new person to introduce themselves to, share themselves with, and get to know, that’s using our brightest stars for their grandest purpose. For every home game, they invite a different person to their game. Next game, next new friend. That’s 25 a game. And for each game, its 25 more friends at the game than the last. 25 new people with a vested interest in each other. 25 new people connected through and because of the program. Ten games later, the stands should be full of new friends, new fans, and connected family.

We can talk all we want about why our young people are full of angst and nerves. Let’s send them some reinforcements. Let’s send them our best. Let’s send them our love!

Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate. Only love can do that.

We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark. The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.

Let’s let our stars be thLove bright lights that they are. Let them be the light for those in the dark. Let’s go!

Stars Shine!

Posted in Programs
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Why do scandals like Michigan State and Olympic Gymnastics happen?

How is it that incidents like the Michigan State or the  Olympic gymnastics scandals happen?

Their reason “WHY” is broken.

Their adults have forgotten why they are there. The value system and the priority of why they matter are broken.

Both can be fixed. Both must be fixed.

Any athletic or academic department, no matter the level, must have their why on the marquee. It must be on the sleeve, on the chest, and on the agreement. “This” is why we are here. “This” is why it matters. “This” is the first thing.

How about this? Decide what the first thing is, and keep it first.

If the thing is academics, say it. If the thing is winning, say it. If the thing is creating positive experiences, a community of intelligent, loving people, or creating a nation of decent human beings, say it. If faith matters, it must be constant. If the bottom line matters, it must be constant. The confusion of why leads to a lack of focus, direction, or purpose. The confusion leads to a lack of accountability. We can fix this.

Decide what the why is. Then, say it. Then, repeat it. Done. If actions do not confirm this, change the actions to match the why. If your actions do not match where you said you need to go, you’re allowed to change directions. You are required to change directions.

If the young people are not following direction, change the direction. If academics are the focus, and actions do not match the focus, point to the focus. Point to the North Star. Say, THAT is where we are going. I said we. The adults and the young people. Together, they must go.

If the adults aren’t leading them to the place they promised to, the young people have the right to say so. THIS is not where you said we would go. THIS is not how you said we were going to get there. If they aren’t going anywhere, say so. Why aren’t we moving?

All of this starts at the top. The signatures on the paycheck. The keyholders. The people who turn on the lights. The people who write agreements. They must be clear about why they are there. To lead. To remind. To redirect. To applaud actions. To correct misdirection. To stand loudly in the light for those wandering in the dark. If the rest do not know who is leading, or where to go, to get right, all is lost. Everyone is lost.

Michigan State is an institute of higher learning.  Intelligence, facts, and wisdom should be simple. The Spartans can say who they are and then redirect anyone who wants or claims to be there for the right reasons. They can celebrate those in the right. They can remove those in the wrong. If winning is the thing, say so. If the university is about academics, say so. If it is about the business of either, say so. Pretty simple.

The US Olympic team needs to state why it exists. Is it the best in us? Is it the shell for money makers and check cashers? Is it for the young people, old people, or the best people of any age? Is it the best this nation has to offer?

Ask why. Why are you here? The answers should open eyes. The question is simple. So are the answers.

I hope the leaders have a great answer. We know that the young people need answers. We know that they need leaders.

Keep the first thing first.

 

Posted in Weekly LovePrints
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LovePrints. When you grow up with your hero.

Great families make great people. Great people make great families.

I have no shame in celebrating the good people in the world. It is easy to give compliments when they are the truth. When those people are constant and consistent, they deserve their story to be told. When they grow up in the same house, it makes it all that much more special.

My older brother (he smiles when I remind him that he will always be older) claimed the hero spot in my life at an early age. I watched him play football and run track as a young man, and then got to wait anxiously at home for him to return with his stories of the country. He introduced me to different ways to train, eat, pray, and win. He was everything that I wanted to be, and he shared the path. He was generous in sharing the importance of faith and education, integrity and character. And, I was in awe of how much awe he inspired in others.

I do not know who your heroes are, but I can tell you that I was blessed with a brother who was worthy of the title, and the responsibility. I carried the moniker “Little Bob” until I was old enough to make my own name matter. I appreciate having such a high standard to live up to, and with.

Well done, old man. Well done.

Getting to know: Robert E. Smith with Child Shield

Title: Executive with the local franchise of Child Shield USA, a company that offers family-focused services designed to keep children safe

Born: 1955, grew up in Arlington County

Education: Bachelor of arts in political science communications, 1977, David Lipscomb College in Nashville. (“I ran track for three years while in college and was named first team or second team All-American each year. At the end of my freshman year, I was invited to try out for the U.S. Olympic Team.”)

Career: Retired in 2010 from Philip Morris USA/Altria Group after 30 years. Positions held include warehouse supervisor, group supervisor in the warehouse, HIPAA privacy administrator and manager in the medical department.

In which part of the metro area do you live: Henrico County

Best business decision: “To always do that which is right, to treat others the way I want to be treated, and to put others first before self. I also learned that it is always best to be completely honest. That way, people know that you always tell the truth, which means they know they can believe what you have told them. Credibility is very important.”

Mistake you learned the most from: “When I was young, while running a race I was so far ahead of my competitors that I looked back to see where they were. Well, I fell and ended up rolling across the finish line. I did not win the race. I came in third place. I learned, don’t focus on what is behind you, keep your eyes on the goal, which is before you.

First job after college: “I sold life insurance.”

If you had to do it all over again, what would you do differently: “Work harder and smarter in elementary, middle and high school. The more you learn early in life helps you to be able to learn even more as you progress through life, and that applies to school, college, the work world and everyday life.”

Book that inspired you the most: “The book that has inspired me the most is ‘The Bible.’ God, who is our creator, has told us everything we need to know to be happy in this life and happy forever.

Favorite/least favorite subject in school: “Geometry, because I knew that I personally would never use it. My favorite subject in college was history, because I learned about the past and learned from the past.”

http://www.richmond.com/business/local/getting-to-know-robert-e-smith-with-child-shield/article_e611e6b4-edeb-57f1-9f74-5bb43ab7bfc4.html

 

Posted in Weekly LovePrints
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The coach is playing their favorites. True story.

Great coaches tell the truth. The truth makes great coaches.

Love out loud.

I am going to bust up a coaching myth. Long told story is that coaches do not give preferential treatment to any of their players. Some will say that good coaches will treat his best player and his worst player the same. The idea comes from the belief that team rules should apply to everyone. Let me put my two cents on the table.

It is not true.

Great coaches have something in common. The truth.  Any coach who has the freedom to tell his players the truth has the freedom to make coach them to greater. Any coach who wants the freedom to eliminate nonsense and chaos has to be able to tell the truth. Without that freedom, the coach will spend too much of his time dancing around egos, lies, distractions, and tears.

The truth is freedom to spend time wisely and honestly. The truth is the freedom to say things exactly as they are no matter who the people are who are involved in it. That freedom allows for my time to be spent on the task at hand. Making the players better, making the team better, and making the humans better.

Let me tell you about those favorite players. Ready? The are not always who you might think they would be. They are not always the best athlete, the best player, or the player with the parents who have the most money.

A coach’s favorite is the kid who he can tell the truth. The kid who wants to know what the coach needs for him to hear rather than what the player wants to hear. A favorite is the player who listens and hears. A favorite is a player who understands that truth is the greatest talent any player or coach can have. It allows so many good things to happen in the small window that is available to do so. The favorite allows the coach to TRUST.

Who does the coach trust? The player who is prepared. The player who is ready, The player who cares about what the coach cares about. The player committed to the team rather than themselves. The player who honors the process, respects the drill, appreciates the lessons, and actions accordingly. The player trusted is the player whose actions match his words. Trust is bestowed on the player who ignores chaos, defeats the distractions, and is undefeated against laziness.

When a coach knows that a player knows the plays, understands the plays, and will execute the plays, he gets trusted. When a coach knows that the player actions in character, efforts academically, is aware socially, and excels in the community, trust is the reward, and favoritism is earned. Not granted. Earned.

The same can be said for parents. See above. Honesty and trust play a big part in the inclusion and proximity of trust. The more the parent understands that time is given based on intent and action, the simpler the relationship becomes. And, more trusting.

So there you have it.. There are favorites. It is rarely about talent or size or stats. It is about TRUST. It is about honesty. It is about love. Care about the process, honor the process, and be true in it and to it, and favor will follow.

I am pretty sure that I just described most coach elected captains. They may not be the best players, but they are certainly at the front of the class and most likely to succeed. They probably will turn in to some pretty amazing coaches one day.

Action in love. Love in action.

Go.

Coach DP in action Woodson Football

Posted in Giving Back
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LovePrints – The Line. Conditioning.

Great lines make great coaches. Great coaches make great lines.

Love Out Loud.

  1. THE. LINE.

As a player, as a coach there are certain inevitable things. Some are good, some are dreaded, and all of them have purpose. All of them belong. All of them send us forward with something stronger and better than what we had before it. There are often constants in sports, and conditioning is one of them. It is never pleasing, often painful, and always the truth. It is also where winners show up, acknowledge, and crown themselves. It is where the line is drawn.

As any of my teammates, and any of my players, wind sprints are going to happen. They are going to happen. They are going to happen. Sometimes, they are masked as kickoff drills. Sometimes, they are masked as baserunning drills. Sometimes, they are masked as transition drills.  They can include oars and shells held over head, They can include stairs, hallways, gymnasiums, tracks, and mud. They might be. But sometimes, they are not masked at all. They are simply conditioning. They are lung busting, leg dragging, tongue wagging, stomach upsetting, sweat puddle inducing, cramps in the side reminders of why game days are fun.

It does not matter what sport it is, what age group it is, or what gender. Conditioning must be done. It serves as the measuring stick for readiness, preparation and commitment. If a coach wants to know how much this sport matters to his players, he can look on day one of tryouts or practice to see who has put in the work. Coaches know who is in shape, who isn’t, and how much work it will take to get everyone on the same level.

Parents often miss this part of coaching. When the players show up on day one, they may or may not have an idea of how much work their young one has put in. More importantly, they may or may not know how much work the OTHER young people put in. They may believe that their athlete has worked hard, but have they worked as hard as the athletes they are competing with? Have they worked as hard as they could? Have they worked as hard as the athletes they are competing against? That is the line.

As players, if they do not know how much is enough, they need to ask. They need to know. What they think is enough may be enough for beginners. Or average. Or good. It may not be great. It may not be their best. That is the line.

How conditioning is done varies from climate to climate, coach to coach, and program to program. Recent awareness has asked, begged even, that conditioning be done as a part of the skill training rather than as punishment. It should be done as a part of the practice plan, a part of the improvement session, a part of the warm up and cool down. It needs to be ambitious, motivating, and sensible. It also needs to be the standard. It needs to be the line. And that line needs to be new and moved daily. That is the purpose of the line.

It is the sound that makes skin crawl, smiles disappear, sweat appears, and deep breaths happen. It is the beginning bell or the final whistle. It is the most feared sound of any practice session, and it is also the signal that we must come together and get better.

It is also the gatekeeper, the babysitter, and the constant reminder. It is the dog at the fence, it is the alarm on the door, and it is the latch on the window. It keeps order, and creates unity.

I am sure that anyone that has played for me will wince at the final sentence of this piece. It means that it is time to be measured. It is time to improve. It is time to grow. It is time to prepare for the final out, the final quarter, the last drive, the final lap, the last jump, the big shot, the next base, and the huge play. It is the line.

ON THE LINE! ON THE LINE! ON THE LINE!

<whistle>

 

Posted in Giving Back
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LovePrints. What is a LovePrint?

Posted in Giving Back, Testimonials and Stories
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LovePrints. Lessons from New Jersey

Great families make great people. Great people make great families.

Love Out Loud.

My love for sports is documented. What I get to share from it are the people who helped shape me, my love for the games we play and played, and how far life takes us with the love that we share in it. In my younger days, I knew early on that sports would play a big part of my life, I just did not know how or where. I did know that it called to me, and along the way, people fed it so that it could grow.

We all have those people who left an imprint on us. I use this vehicle as a way to say thank you to some folks who did more than they knew, a lot with a little, and helped carve a place in who I became later in life. I had an older cousin who lived in East Orange, New Jersey. My aunt would bring him down with his two sisters, and he and I figured out that we both loved sports. He loved it in a way that made me love it more.

We would go to the playground and have at it. The universe is funny, I do not recall ever playing him when anyone else was ever at the court, and these courts were ALWAYS busy. This was a good thing, as he would take me to basketball class. Even at a young age, I knew that I wanted to know more of the game, but my cousin was worldly, even then. His game was different than mine. It was COOLER. It was my introduction to a thing that did not have a name yet. In the early 70’s, he would hit me with this thing that I thought was illegal, but deadly. THE CROSSOVER. He would spin and call out THE PEARL! He would tell me about Earl Monroe and Clyde Frazier, (no, he did not call him Walt, he was CLYDE) and he would mimic the Wilt Reed free throw jumper. I had no idea that this was a thing, you could shoot the same shot as a free throw and get two points instead of one. My cousin would call out Cazzie Russell, and then he would blow my mind with this one-handed move he had learned while in Jersey. It was this swooping underhanded to overhanded dip of a thing. He said it was the move of this young cat that played in New Jersey for the Nets. Apparently, there was this place in New York called RUCKER PARK, and this young cat changed the game by the way he played it. HE WAS COOLER than everyone else. Some cat named JULIUS ERVING. They called him the DOCTOR because of the way he operated on the court. MIND BLOWN. Tell me more….

He was the great reporter. He would warn me about the NY Mets being good enough to beat the powerful Baltimore Orioles. (They did). He boasted that the lowly New York Jets would beat the unbeatable Baltimore Colts. (They did). He forecasted the power of the Yankees when they signed Reggie Jackson, and he introduced me to the world of WOR, home of New York sports.

One summer, I got to spend the week in New Jersey. My goodness, I learned so much. The world was faster there, it was bigger there, and the people were louder there. I was introduced to this game called PASS OUT, where kids would press against another kid’s stomach until they would drop. I also got to play baseball at their rec league, and I remember being thankful that he would drag me along and let me play with his team. They were bigger, stronger, and more experienced. I learned to put the ball in play and use my speed. I also learned about big league baseball in an up and close way. It mattered more THERE it seemed.

His mother was always a big voice with lots of advice. She loved loud, proud, and constantly. His little sister always seemed tougher than all the boys in our family. Its like she knew something we didn’t.  And his older sister may have been the wisest of all. I always knew that I would be smarter every time I was around her. She constantly added to. Maybe it was a family thing. My cousin seemed to do that too. He does not say much these days, but I hear him loudly on a regular basis. I can absolutely say that my love for sports would not be what it is without you.

Thank you, cuz.

I appreciate you more than you know.

Posted in Testimonials and Stories
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LovePrints. Thank you. An uncle’s love.

Great families make great people. Great people make great families.

Love in Action. Action in love.

This mornings walk had me clearly in a conversation with my late uncle, Melvin Harris, Jr. It was so strong and clear that I had to sit on a park bench in the middle of nowhere to gather myself. His LovePrint on me was strong and loud this morning. I could hear his smooth powerful voice, I could feel his hands on me, and I needed to be present in whatever it was. It took me several minutes to regain composure and try to get home and write.

I write from my heart. When my heart speaks, I try to sit and put those things into words so that I understand them, and myself. Maybe, you have someone who spoke to you, guided you, or directed you. For those people, I honor my uncle today.

Uncle Bro. (Said Uncle BRUH). He was this brilliantly witted, composed, incredibly funny man. He would come to Arlington once or twice a week, usually on weekends, and visit my family at my grandmother’s house right behind ours. He would bring three of my best friends with him, and along with his wife Clara, they constantly appeared to give me a clue about what families were about. We would cookout (someone please tell me the difference between a cookout and a bbq), play cards, watch sports, dance, eat, and laugh. It is where my love of of those things came from. Bro was the loudest voice, the biggest smile, and the maestro. While my grandmother hosted with the most-est, my uncle would orchestrate the energy like a maestro, setting the priority of the day with game watch schedules, card game order, judge and jury of teams selected to play, and usually the head of the table when all was said and done in the meals and the games played.

He was the ignition for my love for sports. His sons were my first true teammates and rivals at the same time. We would find our way to the playground to take on whichever of my friends were at the court, or on the football field. Well, by football field I mean Oxford Street, or Pollard Street, where we would play touch football. I still have the scars from catching my cousin Anthony’s post pattern and running into a parked truck, or the emotional scar of driving my cousin Adrian’s blue cat mini bike into the fence at Fort Barnard. They were generous enough to let me craft point guard skills on the basketball court, and helped master the whiffle ball knuckle curve. I have four older sisters, and my cousin Tina was one of two cousins who were the same and having younger sisters. And she earned it by taking the jokes of us all. I apologize now, Tina. Our bad.

We would leave the games and return to my grandmother’s house for what was always the best meal of the week. My uncle introduced me to THE BROILER. MY HEAVENS. He explained that pepperoni AND sausage was the true king’s meal. He explained the joys of eating a slice of pizza, a half of a steak and cheese sub, and the worlds best French fries. Or, he would stand regally over the grill out back, perfectly timing the hamburgers, steaks, and hot dogs to whatever temperature everyone wanted without missing a beat or sweating. He taught me the proper way to bowl, and introduced me to the Washington Senators, often driving all of the way to Arlington to get me to let me go with them to games at RFK Stadium. He always made sure that we went on Frank Howard bat day, or Senators batting helmet day. He also made sure that we understood what we were seeing and why we should go.

My uncle taught me how to count books in bid whist and spades, and gave me the handbook on properly execution of the final book when running a boston. (I am sorry that some of you got lost just now, but I will gladly explain it in private). My hand hurts just thinking about perfectly palming the big joker and bringing it above the head but not behind the ear to deliver it powerfully to my grandmothers good dining room table.

My uncle taught me to love my family even if it wasn’t a good family day. He is the constant reminder to love those around you whether they are yours or not, as though they are yours. He is the annual reminder of why I do not use fireworks, and the laughter I hear at any table of food. He is the standard of work ethic and love that I strive for.

I guess I just wanted to put it in the air that we all have the power to make lives better. This man loved me enough for me to remember him decades later. That, my friends, is a LovePrint.

Thank you, Sir.

Thank you.

Posted in Parents
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LovePrints What will they say about you?

Love in action. Action in love.

Love Out Loud.

What will be said about you when you are not able to listen? What will be told as a truth when you are not around to agree or disagree? Does it matter?

I speak of love out loud. The concept is simply the act of choosing to celebrate love of someone, love of a condition, love of an environment, or love of a moment. It is the raising of glasses, cheering in unison, the united action of hands together for a cause, the lifting of people to a better place, and the standing for something good, together.

That last like speaks volumes. It simply shows the value of a thing, the power of that thing, and the reason why that thing matters. It is the reason why, the reason how, and the goal defined and achieved. It is the beauty witnessed, the glory known, and the chorus of YES!

What we hope is said about us before, now, and then is that we achieved. We hope that it is said that our curiosities were pursued, they became questions, which became, tests and experiments, which became answers, which became knowledge.

We hope that our situations met doubts which met opportunities, which became labor and onto effort and successes. We hope that hunger became desire, which became motivation, which became ambition, which turned to drive. Drive fell in love with repetition, which took residence in winning.

We hope that lesson after lesson after lesson, became victory after win, after glorious win. We hope that it matters not what the trial was, we were asked for the truth and told it, no matter the feelings of those hearing it who wanted an untruth to be told. We hope that each truth is told, and that it is good enough for everyone, especially ourselves.

When we are done, and voices are raised to speak on our time and lives togethers, We hope to be the energy in a room full of more answers than questions, more knowledge than doubt, more achievements that failures, and more love than fear.

Let that be the story that is told about us. LOVE. Let it be said that in all of the winning an successes, and actions, that they all were LOVE. LOVE based, LOVE experienced, and LOVE knowing.

Go on the daily to tell your story. Speak on the love in it, out loud. Stand to joyfully shout about it. And then remain standing to receive the love in numbers coming back to you. You deserve its. It deserves you.

We deserve them both.

In love,

Coach DP.

Posted in Weekly LovePrints
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