Best Friend

Today I am posting with encouragement to reach out to your best friend and remind him (or her) that he is just that, your best friend. Below is the story of my best friend, the roads we’ve traveled, the love and sorrow we’ve shared, and just why he is my best friend.

It all started on my first day at a new school, my 6th grade year. I’d missed the actual first day, attending my great grandmother’s funeral. At recess, all the kids in my grade played kick ball and I was excited to show what I could do. My first up I kicked a home run and as I crossed home plate, one of the guys on my team greeted me with, “You’re a real prick, aren’t you?” Of course this was the coolest kid in school. I should have been offended, but I didn’t know what a “prick” was. It wasn’t until my mom got home that I learned what he was referring to. So, needless to say, we didn’t get off to the best start. And it’s hard to believe that I sit here today singing his praises.

It took more than half of that school year for us to start hanging out. I don’t recall what finally brought us together, but it led to us spending the next 7 years virtually inseparable. There were only a few weekends that weren’t spent at his house or mine. Now, I have to say that it wasn’t all smooth sailing. As I mentioned, he was the cool kid in class, Mr. Popular. Eventually I was finally accepted into the Cool Club but it’s safe to say I was never the president.

Our worst dust-up happened our sophomore year. I’d been moved to running back and found myself in the backfield, side-by-side with my best friend. One particularly tough game we kept running a play called “24 power” where he got the ball and I was supposed to lead him through the hole. After getting his clock cleaned a couple of times, he had a few choice words for me in the huddle. (In my defense, I put the first guy I saw on his butt so I don’t know who missed the block.) After the game we didn’t speak and went our separate ways.

The next morning at school as I headed to our usual hangout spot, I found myself pinned against a locker and my best friend in my face, delivering a stern warning that I had better take my eyes off of his girlfriend. He was going out with one of the prettiest girls in school, and they’re still together today. As it turns out, another friend of his that was a grade above us and jealous of our relationship, knew he wasn’t pleased with me and planted a bug in his ear that I was after his girlfriend. None of this was true, but the damage had been done.  Our coach caught wind of the feud and that night at practice had us line up against each other in a modified Oklahoma drill. The Oklahoma drill is when players are pitted against one another and told to knock the other’s head off. We were both so focused on getting out our frustrations and inflicting a little damage that we completely missed each other. That was an embarrassing moment in front of all our teammates. This tiff lasted about 4 days and ended after the Friday varsity game when he ran me down and asked if I wanted to go to his house later. Problem solved, all was forgiven.

High school was a time for us to try to discover who we were going to become. Unfortunately for us, our worlds were dominated by two things: sports and girls. I got better at one but was found to be utterly hopeless at the other. As I mentioned, KP had found his girl back in junior high. The two of them spent the next 6 years setting me up with girl after girl. I did manage to find one girl to go steady with for about 6 months but that only happened because KP asked her out for me, and, of course, our first and most of the subsequent dates were with them. In the ’70s, Cat Stevens had a popular song out called “Another Saturday Night.” KP made this my theme song as I often found myself alone in the back of his custom Firebird as the odd man out.

High School came to an end but not our story. We headed off to play college football together and, surprise, surprise, we were roommates. This story doesn’t take long because our pigskin careers didn’t get off to a good start. He left to go play for another school and I stuck it out for a year, then transferred. It was during this period that I began to realize what a truly great friend he was.

I was away at college, not having the best of times. We hadn’t talked in months because that would have taken way too much effort on my part. (Remember, this was the ’70s, before texting and email.) One day I got the mail and there was a letter from KP. Nothing special, just a how you doin’ type thing. But it rocked my world. You need to understand – KP was not a writer. School was not his favorite way to pass time. The fact that he made that effort made me look in the mirror and ask myself… what kind of friend was I?

In the summer of 1980, I moved back to our hometown, enrolled at WSU, and the two of us resumed our inseparable ways. He had been working at a nursery and came up with a plan to start his own business. He pitched to me that I would mow lawns during the week and we would do custom landscaping on the weekends. I never should have doubted that this would become his career and legacy, achieving amazing success. As soon as I graduated, I left town to find my own way in the world, stopping in Topeka, Kansas City, St. Louis, and eventually landing in Chicago. Through it all, KP never lost track of me and always supported me.

The stories I could share about the two of us are endless. (I’m seriously considering writing a book about our exploits.) When Amy and I go back to my hometown, we always wind up in KP’s back yard with him recalling story after story about us. We’ve never been arrested but probably should have. There have been multiple hospital visits. And the level of stupidity we’ve lived through is epic. Amy has heard these stories for over 20 years and they just keep coming. That ’70s Show couldn’t hold a candle to all the true stories KP could share.

Finally, I’ll bring this post around and relate it to my life with Lou Gehrig’s disease. A couple of decades ago, KP lost his father from complications during surgery. His wife gave me the news and I immediately jumped on a plane and headed home. This was no big deal to me, and I never gave it a second thought. Only years later, as he was relaying this story to his sons, did it occur to me that he had taught me what a true best friend was. All those years he had put me first. And without thought or intent, I was doing the same thing that day.

When I told KP of my ALS diagnosis, his first reaction was “the doctors got it wrong.” Over the last year, reality has set in so each day/week/month have become celebrations of life itself. One of the biggest reasons I am able to greet each day with joy is because I know I have a best friend that will always be there, for anything, without question.

Below is a song by Tracy Lawrence. “Somebody Who Would Die For You” just asks us to see the people around us and at least recognize who they are and how they may have touched your life. Warning: It’s deep, but I love the message.

To end today’s entry, I’d like to share a few lines from a prayer that I pray often:

Please help me notice and embrace the people you have placed around me.

To apologize when warranted and forgive without being asked.

Let my life be a channel of your love, spreading hope and joy.

As always, thanks for sharing your time with me.

Take care and God bless.

Coach