I led anything but a normal childhood. On the day I was born my mother had just turned sixteen years old, my father was barely seventeen. My mother’s family hated my father with a passion and did everything they could to make his life a miserable hell. To his credit, he withstood the abuse and became my role model, never ever turning his back on me, even though my mother’s family criticized him every chance they got. He dropped out of school at seventeen and went to work at the local lumber yard. He sent my mother a check for child support every month, even though they had never been to court, his check was there every month. He enrolled in night school got his GED, then enrolled in college, again at night. It took him six years but he received a teaching degree and went to work at a local high school. He was a gifted quarterback in his high school days, many say he was good enough to perhaps play professionally, but he gave all of that up at seventeen. It only made perfect sense that after four years of teaching, he would also assume the head coaching position, a sport he loved dearly.