Connections

As I stood anxiously in Princeton’s Jadwin Gymnasium, brooding over the impending bad weather (which seemed to follow us throughout the outdoor track season), my cell phone rang. Those who are around me know how my cell phone is a constant source of angst. It’s is a necessarily evil device – literally indispensable for every aspect of our lives, sadly. My ringtone – Gov’t Mule’s version of Soulshine, a beautiful song – makes me grit my teeth: Arrgh. Who’s BOTHERING me now? I grumbled to myself. A quick glance at the phone and I smiled when I saw it was Conor Shelley on the other end of the line. My favorite big doofus, one of the greatest and goofiest and certainly most loyal runners I’ve ever coached, was just checking in. How nice! I knew he wanted to talk to Big Red (as he calls him), senior Dietrich Mosel, who was about to race for the final time in the red and white in the 10,000-meter run at IC4As later that night. I gave the phone to Deet and they laughed and talked for a bit. I talked to Conor for a while, promised to update him later on Dietrich’s race. And that was that. About 30 minutes later, that big doofus showed up at Princeton! He had duped us all, calling on the way, saying he would never miss Dietrich’s last race.

Conor and Dietrich were never teammates. Not even close! Conor turns 30 and gets married, later this year. He and Deet are two cycles removed from each other. And yet, they have a special connection. Both went to Kellenberg Memorial High School on Long Island. As I said, Conor is quite loyal to all things Marist Running, but when he noticed another Kellenberg boy having similar success to what he had in college – actually Dietrich methodically took down most of Conor’s Kellenberg/Marist connection records – Conor was intrigued. They trained together over the summer on occasion. When Deet was down and out with injuries or illnesses, Conor was always there for a pep talk – in person or over the phone. Dietrich, who more than most gets the idea of connecting generations among Marist Running, looked up to Conor. I think at one point early in his Marist career, he actually referred to him as “Mr. Shelley.” This, of course, almost made me spit my coffee out in laughter! Mr. Shelley? That’s Conor’s DAD. Anyway, as I said, they formed a special bond, and it was really neat to see Conor watch Dietrich, as Deet outran Conor’s outstanding 10km PR and become the third-fastest 25-lapper in school history. No one was happier or more proud of this than Conor Shelley. Connections.

A few days later, as I brought my son Joey back to Stony Brook for the day so he could take his last final exam of the spring semester, I had time to kill on Long Island while he was studying for and then taking the exam. I relished this down time on the Island, using it as an excuse to visit two loyal alums in the vicinity of Stony Brook. First stop was to see Kat, who just had her second baby and was home with an active toddler and an infant son, who snoozed beautifully during the entire visit; she used to babysit for our kids when they were young and now she’s got young ones of her own. She was still wiped out from giving birth and from the sleep deprivation that comes with having young children. But she admitted that she keeps up on the current team, reading this very blog while awake in bed, sometimes in the middle of the night. She’s amazed and awed by the current team’s success and how many of our women are running as fast or faster than she and her teammates did during her outstanding time at Marist. She doesn’t know any of these young ladies except as names on a blog post or results links, but she still cares and she’s still a huge fan. Connections.

Next stop was Mikey’s house. No more loyal an alum, he’s been out of Marist for more than 15 years. And yet, this past year, he made it to at least one meet per season – cross country, indoor track, outdoor track. He has no direct connection to our program, other than his loyalty to it and following along with the results on the blog. Through the years, he’s gotten to know current and now former team members and their families, many of whom are from Long Island – again, even though he had no direct connection with them during his time at Marist. His young kids know me as their daddy’s old coach, and it was so great to see him and his family at their beautiful house just a few minutes away from the Stony Brook campus. During his four-year stint at Marist, in which he set records that he saw get broken over the past two decades, he was around for the birth of my son Joey (you know, the one at Stony Brook!) and I recall him stopping by my house and hanging out and playing with Joey on our driveway when Joey was a toddler. Now, that kid’s all grown up and Mikey’s got young ones of his own, but he is still attached to our program in a special way as a loyal alum. Connections.

A few days ago, I received a text from loyal alum Christine Coughlin, now teaching way out in Hawaii. Two current athletes were out there for an education attachment program for a few weeks – Emily Burns and Debbie Boerke. They got together and made each other feel right at home, thousands and thousands of miles away from New York. Although Christine is so far away, she has watched with pride as school records – some of which she was a big part of – have been methodically taken down. Her leadership and influence is still felt on this current team, and they were thrilled to reconnect with each other in Hawaii. Connections.

A few weeks ago, one of our graduating seniors (Steven Morrison) traveled down to NYC for an interview. One of his contacts at the company he was interviewing with was 2008 Marist graduate Tom Dixon. Like Morrison, T-Dix was a middle distance runner. T-Dix was thrilled to hear that some of the traditions his generation started – Jerk Squad, Senior Gifts, etc. – are still going strong, 10 years later. Connections.

This past weekend, we said goodbye to a very special Class of 2018. Hey. Every graduating class is special, right? There was something about this one, though, and how close knit they were. At the Friday night graduate commencement, the senior men who were to graduate in the slop the next day were there to see Spencer Johnson get his master’s degree. Coach Chuck commented on their very morose mood, collectively. They were truly bummed about. “I can’t believe it’s over,” one of the graduating seniors texted me later on Saturday afternoon. In a way, it was probably good that the weather was so miserable, sparing us all of excruciating and awkward goodbyes. This particular ending hit this group very hard. They are sad, depressed and probably a little scared of the uncertainty of what lies next for them. We see this every year, but it seems more acute this year, with this group. I hope those men and women – such a special group – are reading this. I hope they realize that the connections they forged during their four and five years here will last a lifetime, and they may even expand and grow, as you can see by just these few stories I’ve shared here on this too-long post. Connections. They started here, they’ll grow and expand, and they’ll last a lifetime. It’s what makes our program special. Connections.