That's all she wrote

Well loyal readers, the 2020 season is officially over.  We are shutting down the house today and packing up for next fall. 

There are a lot of emotions going on right now, from taking care of personal business as we get ready to end, to how things are going for the athletes who graduate this year.  Unlike other sports with scholarships, our seniors likely will not be able to take advantage of the NCAA's decision - or soon to be decision - to extend eligibility to all spring sport athletes.  Their senior year comes to a close with a thud, and it will be one that is difficult to swallow and handle.  There will not be the closure needed on their collegiate careers and they will be left wondering what might have been. 

Yesterday had the coaching staff thinking about how their respective senior years ended.  For Chris, he was done.  IRAs was over and he was ready to move on.  For Gabe, he knew that he was continuing to row after college as he made a bid - successful - for the National Team. 

As for yours truly, I was in a state of mixed emotions.  I was happy to see the chapter close on my collegiate career.  I'd accomplished what I'd wanted personally and as an athlete, but it still was a bit emotional knowing that the next fall would come and I wouldn't be part of the team. 

On the other hand, the blow was softened because I knew that I was heading for coaching, and simply switching sides of the desk.  I left WIRAs with two job offers in my back pocket and an entire summer to look into more. 

I don't know what our seniors have in store for them.  Some have some schooling to finish.  Others have done a solid job cultivating jobs and networking. 

I penned this on my Facebook page after the final practice yesterday.  Take care of yourselves. 

I’ve seen many seasons come and go since I began coaching. 16 to be exact. But no season has ended quite like what will go down as 2020.

I don’t know if anyone is truly prepared for their final season. Perhaps you think you are. No more practices. No more training. No waking up early or hotels with terrible breakfasts. No more blisters and cold, wet mornings or hot, humid afternoons.

I know that’s what I felt when I steered my eight toward shore. But you start taking stock of what you’ll miss. Your friends, brothers, sisters, however you call them. You’ll miss those quiet times when the world is waking, or the feeling of movement across water while the world rushes home. You’ll miss late nights in hotels talking about life, and love, and fears. You’ll miss driving vans through San Francisco, or the plane flights and gear orders.

At some point you realize it’s over. For me, it didn’t hit until I was standing on the shoreline of Lake Natoma with my friend Megan aka Smiley, watching the final races go by. That was it. There would be a fall of 2004 season, but I wouldn’t be there. WIRAs, Champs, all that would go on as it had before, but without me. No more Viking Burger at Lake Stevens, or crowded breakfast room at Humboldt. No more cheers mocking UPS and PLU.

But I was fortunate. I wasn’t leaving, just switching roles. I had two coaching offers in hand and a summer to figure out more.

And I was able to finish off my senior year.

There have only been a handful of truly emotional moments in my coaching career. Saying goodbye to my UPS novices. Trading LO for college.

And today.

Today, standing at the pond after practice with the seniors, realizing that this was it for 2020. This is likely the last practice we will have as the 2020 OSU Men’s Rowing Team. To watch the seniors, usually quite boisterous and energetic, stand silently as we discussed what happens next.

What happened this year is no ones fault. Calling off the season is a terrible responsibility and weight that I wish on no one. Knowing you are closing the final chapters of collegiate careers for thousands of senior athletes leaves you humbled and burdened.

But it’s the right call. It’s the responsible call. It’s the only call. Better to be overly protective than reactive.

But still.

I tell athletes all the time that I have seen classes come and go. I’ve done this for four full cycles, and I’ve got many more left in me. But they have four years. I tell them this in order to bring a bit of reality to the practices, a bit of urgency to your first year. The years go quickly, so how do you want to be remembered? What will you do now to write your narrative so it will be read the way you’d like?

But you don’t plan on this. You don’t prepare for this. Nothing in the US Rowing Clinics or convention, the NCAA tests or guidelines or conferences, nothing in SafeSport prepares you for this.

Every sports jackoff will tell you that they could coach better than “that jackass” they see in television. That they could game plan better or training better or call better plays.

But nothing prepares you for the moment when you stare into the faces of nearly a dozen seniors who’ve given it their all only for their all to never be tested for the final time. Nothing prepares you for that moment when you have to tell them, “Thank you, for everything. And I’m sorry.”