If we do what’s right, get better every day, winning will take care of itself.
ED THOMAS
IN 1995, APLINGTON-PARKERSBURG ENTERED THE SEASON one year removed from their first Iowa Class 1A state championship. On paper, it looked like they had a strong chance of going all the way again. Although they had lost fullback and defensive lineman Brad Meester, who had moved on to the University of Northern Iowa and then ultimately to the NFL, sophomore Aaron Kampman looked more than ready to fill his shoes. As young and inexperienced as Aaron was, Ed could tell he had the tools to be something special.
A-P opened the season at home against East Marshall on Labor Day weekend with high hopes for the season. A funny thing happened in that first game. Someone forgot to inform East Marshall that they were supposed to be intimidated by the mighty Falcons. A-P came out flat, and East Marshall seized the opportunity. No matter what Ed tried, the Falcons never got on track. East Marshall came away with a victory in a game Ed knew his Falcons would have won if they had played anywhere near their potential.
School was out for Labor Day on Monday, but Ed made his team come in for practice. The players, including his oldest son, Aaron, dragged themselves out onto the practice field, heads hanging low for what they called Black Monday. Monday practices after a loss were bad; the Labor Day practice after a loss was the worst of the worst.
Ed pulled his team over to a shady spot next to a storage shed. “Have a seat, fellas,” he said before practice began. “We need to talk.” The players found spots on the grass and sat in a mass circle around Ed. Assistant coaches Al Kerns, Jon Wiegmann, and Greg Fisher, each of whom had coached with Ed for years, stood in the back, arms crossed, smiles on their faces, wondering what he had up his sleeve today. While most coaches would launch into a tirade after such a disappointing loss, Ed always had something memorable planned to get the team’s attention after a big loss.
“Fellas,” Ed began, “I don’t have to tell you that Friday night’s game was not our best effort. I don’t know what we were doing out there, but I know this: We didn’t play like a team.” He then reached over and picked up a large jar filled with beans. “It’s kinda like this,” he said. Popping open the jar, he dropped a rubber ball inside. “The ball cannot float on its own,” he said as the ball sank to the bottom. He then screwed the lid back on and held up the jar.
“That ball and our season are a lot alike. Right now, it feels like both are sinking, but they don’t have to be.” He then began to swirl the jar around and around. As he did, the beans lifted the ball up toward the top of the jar. “You see, fellas, Friday night, we went out on that field and played like a bunch of individuals. Well, I gotta tell you, if we do that, our season will sink like this ball. But when we work together like these beans are, we can lift up this season and win games and reach the goals we set back in the spring.” Players’ heads started nodding in agreement.
Suddenly, Ed whirled around and slammed the jar against the wall of the shed behind him. The jar of beans exploded. “And that’s what’s going to happen to your season if we don’t start coming together as a team!” Ed shouted. “But Friday we’re busting out. Now who’s ready to get to work?”
The entire team jumped up and shouted.
Al Kerns slapped Jon Wiegmann on the back. “He’s always got something,” he said. “Ed always finds a way to get through to ‘em.” They won their next game 40 to 6. Ed had the same high hopes for his 2008 team, or at least he did prior to May 25. The previous season, the team won its first eight games by an average score of 35 to 5. The offense scored more than forty points four times, and the defense didn’t give up a single point until the third game of the season. However, they lost a nail-biter on the road to Starmont High School in the last game of the regular season, 28 to 25. Five days later, they played their worst game of the year against Newman Catholic in the first game of the state playoffs. The Falcons’ 2007 season ended with a disappointing 38 to 13 defeat. Even so, Ed could not wait for the next year. With a strong core of returning seniors, he thought this team could be special. Throw in some talented juniors, and it might just have what it takes to go all the way. For Ed, football season could not come fast enough.
Yet in the wake of the tornado, Ed’s team had already suffered a devastating loss before a single down had been played. Although only ten of his players’ families lost their homes, everyone on the team was affected by the storm in one way or another. Every single player had either a grandparent, aunt or uncle, or close friend whose home had been destroyed. Those who had lost their homes were now scattered across different communities in the area while they rebuilt their houses in Parkersburg. Ed wasn’t sure if those living temporarily in places like New Hartford and Grundy Center would be eligible to stay enrolled at A-P, much less play football. The team had the talent to go far, but Ed had coached talented teams in the past that didn’t fare well. Winning teams needed more.
And then there was the problem of focus. Since the day he took his first head coaching position in 1972, Ed demanded his players’ undivided attention as soon as football practice began. In his first year at Parkersburg, he ruffled a lot of feathers when he laid down the law to the farm kids on his team. One of his starters skipped school to help his dad pick corn. Ed cornered him the next day and told him, “You have to make a choice. You’re either going to play football or you’re going to help your dad farm. You can’t do both.” With the rebuilding in town under way, Ed wondered how he could capture his players’ attention in the same way. It’s hard to focus on a game when something much bigger surrounds you.
When the first few players ran out onto the practice field, Ed’s doubts about getting his team up for the season evaporated. His seniors showed up early and sprinted out like ten-year-olds fleeing the school building on the last day of school. “Hey, Alec,” Ed called out to his senior quarterback, Alec Thompson, “you ready to play a little football?”
“Are you kidding me, Coach? After all the work we did this summer, today feels like the start of summer vacation!”
“Attaboy,” Ed said with a smile. He walked away and said to himself, “I have a feeling this season is going to be special.”
The rest of the team showed up with the same kind of enthusiasm. It wasn’t just the start of practice that had them fired up. The tornado had made national news, and the story did not end when other natural disasters grabbed the headlines. News crews from local television stations were out in full force that first practice, and the players noticed. When the lights of the cameras came on, the players jumped around and screamed and chanted with just a little more enthusiasm than normal.
“OK, fellas, gather in over here,” Ed called out to formally start practice. The team huddled around him. “Go ahead and take a knee,” he said. “Now, guys, I don’t have to tell you that this off-season has been different from any other year. But you know, even with everything going on and with all the work you fellas put into helping here at the school and around town, we had a really good summer in the weight room and in our conditioning program. And we had a good three-day camp for all the linemen last week.
“Now today we’re going to get down to actually getting ready for this season. I don’t know about you fellas, but it feels really good to me to be back out here on this field again and to just think about football for a change. This has been quite a summer. You’ve faced more adversity in the past three months than most people face in their lifetimes, and you didn’t let it beat you down, you didn’t let it define you or defeat you. Instead you made a choice to come together as a team and to work hard to clean up our field and to help people in town put their lives back together. Nothing we face this season will come close to what you’ve already overcome. I don’t know what’s going to happen this season, but I can tell you this: We’re already champions!
“Now get on your feet!” The team leaped into the air. “Where’re you from?” Ed yelled.
“A-P!” the team called back.
“Where’re you from?” Ed yelled louder. “A-P!” the team shouted. “Where’re you from?” Ed yelled.
“A-P!” the team screamed so loud it nearly knocked Ed over.
“So let’s get out there and get after it! Linemen over there. Defensive backs over there. Quarterbacks and receivers, over there!” With that, the team sprinted out across the practice field like they were running out for the start of the Super Bowl. Ed wasn’t quite sure, but he could have sworn that two or three players’ feet didn’t even touch the ground. It was going to be quite a season.
Emotions weren’t so high the next morning. Humidity levels were off the charts, and the August heat cranked up the moment the sun poked up over the horizon. The seniors on the team tried to keep everyone on track, but about three-quarters of the way through practice, most of the underclassmen were moving at half speed, if that fast. Ed had seen enough.
“Gather in here guys!” he yelled. “Now! Run! We don’t walk on this field! Get in here!” As soon as the last player joined the group, Ed dropped the hammer. “You fellas think you’re hurting? You think you’ve got it bad? Well, look around! You see all those houses that are gone? You haven’t suffered. Those are the people who are suffering! We’re playing for them. So quit dragging and GET UP AND GET GOING! YOU SEE ALL THOSE PEOPLE REBUILDING! IT’S NO DIFFERENT HERE!”
For the players in that circle, the jar of beans hit the wall. It was time to get to work.*
*For footage of the early season A-P football practices, go to www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx1yBKIKSLs&feature=channel.