In my Junior year of High School, my Baseball Team recorded the highest regular season winning percentage in my school’s history, which still stands some fifty years later. It was a wonderful and exciting year. But it was in my Senior year that I learned one of life’s most valuable lessons.

During the off-season, my coach asked if I would switch from Centerfield to third base. I agreed because it was, according to him, “the best move for the team.” After three games and a dismal one-win and two-loss record, we got massacred in our fourth game 18-3. It was the worst showing of a baseball team I have ever played on. The mental and physical errors were double-digit. In fact, in the middle of the carnage, the other Coach said to me while I was standing in my third position, “In all the years I’ve been coaching against Jack Keller, I’ve never seen a Jack Keller team get pounded so badly!”

As we sat in the locker room waiting for Coach Keller to make his entrance, I made the mistake of sitting closest to the door. The locker room door flung open, and there stood the Ex-Marine called “The Coach,” who was all 6 foot 5 inches with that crew cut, and his eyes were on fire. What came next is still fresh in my mind some fifty years later.

Since I was seated closest to him, he glanced down at me and said, “Stephenson, you are the dumbest third basemen I have ever coached!” Now it was true that I had made a couple of mental errors during the game but I was incensed because I didn’t want to play there anyway. Now there was an unwritten rule: you didn’t talk back to Coach Keller. But with the room in a hush, I shot back rather definitely, “If you don’t want me at third base, don’t put me at third base!” I was sitting down and his eyes lit up and poking his finger in my Adams Apple, he said, “If you can’t take any criticism young man, you can quit this team!” I stood up, tore my jersey off and threw it against the wall, while shouting back, “I will!” and then I sat back down and started to cry. It was quite embarrassing for me, crying like that in front of all the guys. Coach Keller paused momentarily and then softly replied, “Settle down now Scottie!” Years later, he related the experience to my brother by saying, “He tore his shirt off and threw it against the locker and then started to cry! He embarrassed the hell out of me!”

Coach Keller was never one for backing down, nor was he known to take suggestions on how to run his team. He was renowned as one of the best High School Baseball Coaches in Maryland, and he had the championships to back it up. Later in that tense team meeting, he confessed that maybe he had been a little too hard on us and couldn’t sleep at night because he knew we were a championship team and underperforming. Always wanting to get in the last word, he looked at me and said, “Ok, you don’t want to be at third base, then I will put you in Right field, and I know you hate it in Right field, but you’re going to learn to love it!” I sheepishly asked if he would return me to Centerfield, but I could tell that he didn’t appreciate the suggestion, especially in front of the team. I don’t know what happened that night. Did he have a “Grinch” like experience where his heart grew, I don’t know! But I was in Centerfield the next day, and a new third baseman had been installed. We ended up winning twelve games in a row to repeat as champions.

I learned that even the best of us need to re-evaluate from time to time and make adjustments. It’s not easy to admit when the decisions we make are not working. Often, our pride gets in the way of making changes that will benefit our lives. It’s also hard to have the courage to say what needs to be said to our loved ones and admit to ourselves when we have made mistakes. Some things in life are out of our control. But for the things we can control, let us be humble and willing to change the direction of our lives if needed.

Before that day, I had great respect for Coach Keller. But it grew leaps and bounds after watching him be willing to change and accept suggestions instead of digging his heels in. Coach Keller has since passed to the other side. But from “the dumbest third baseman he ever coached,” “Thanks, Coach, for a life lesson that I have never forgotten.