A Quiet Word for Bad Words

When I was in Junior High, I played baseball on the Astros in Sacramento, California. My coach (someone please help me remember his name), wasn't my favorite coach because he was quite competitive and winning came before anything else. Unfortunately, I wasn't playing my best baseball at the time, and my coach found it difficult to play me. It made me quite upset and I didn't really get along with him.

Of course this was a hard time for me, as I was very small, didn't have many friends, and wasn't quite fitting in with other students as well as I would like. Not performing well in baseball was a big disappointment. One other thing I was struggling with (without my parents' knowledge) was a language problem. I would swear every which word I could whenever I wanted to and wherever I wanted. I was good at hiding this language at home, church, and other places. However, at school I was pretty bad.

One day at baseball practice, our coach hadn't shown up and there was chaos. No one seemed to know what to do and those who were supposed to run practice (the coach's son) was just a player like us, so not everyone cooperated. Who knows what finally got me frustrated, but I spoke up and swore up a storm that shocked just about everyone, telling them how dumb they were all being, etc etc. It was quite the rant.

The next game, the coach took me aside into the dugout alone and said, "I heard that at last practice you used a lot of foul language. Now I know your parents and what you are supposed to stand for and I can't believe your parents would approve of that language. I am disappointed that you would choose to disappoint your parents and your God. I expect this will never happen again, right?" I sat there embarrassed and ashamed. Here was a man that I disliked, being totally right. I knew that I was wrong and that I had shamed myself and my parents. I realized that while the coach didn't play me in the games as much as I liked, he did respect me and my parents as people of God. And I had disappointed him. It was crushing.

From that night on, I quit swearing. Not only that, but I began to have my first realization of who I was and what I was supposed to stand for. What a life changing moment for me. From then on, I wanted to live up to that expectation and believed that everyone around me was watching. Mistakes have still plagued my life, but it has been far better because of the quiet scolding of a disliked coach. Thanks to him for saying something and for handling it so well.

Today, I still relish the idea that people are watching me. When I travel, I like looking good or wearing something with BYU or Utah on it so that people will watch me or ask me questions. I relish my role as an ambassador for our beliefs. I thank people like my coach, who have reminded me of that role and helped me be better at it.