Why is it that some of us do things that ruin us? I was discussing with one of my grown sons this week how in my 43 years of writing sports I have seen more than a few excellent athletes who have not capitalize on their abilities to pursue a good education and, hopefully, land good paying jobs with the ability to climb up the proverbial social and job ladder to optimum success.
I’ll give you one good example. Tom Tennis. He was a great, great javelin thrower back in the 1970s who I believe took a scholarship to Kansas University and seemed to be on the fast track to athletic success and, perhaps, start that climb up the proverbial ladder.
Tennis will always hold the West Sound All-Time record for the javelin at 225 feet, two inches because high schools in this state no longer throw that particular javelin. Ryan Young of North Kitsap holds the West Sound All-Time record for the newer version of the javelin at 202-9.
Young went on to secure a good college education at the University of California-Berkeley because of the javelin. He became an All-American and set the school record in the javelin at 251-01 and continues to reap honors post-school as one of the top javelin throwers in the country.
Ryan did it the right way. He took advantage of his skills to improve himself as a person while opening doors to success that he would not have opened if not for those skills.
Tennis, on the other hand, went the other way. Years ago his sister was my neighbor – she eventually moved to Nevada – and I did not know she was Tom’s sister until a few years before she moved.
When I found out she was his sister, I thought that would be a good story. I had done several stories on Tom when he was in high school at Central Kitsap and since I did the majority of the track and field stories for the then Bremerton Sun, Tom made plenty of headlines in the paper.
When I asked her where Tom was she proceeded to tell me the awful truth – he was homeless and an alcoholic. From time to time, she said, he would reach out to her and ask for financial help. She gave it, but it never stuck for long because he would be gone again.
One day about a year before she moved, I was out mowing our lawn and from her kitchen she could see me. Across from her at the kitchen table sat Tom. He had his back turned to me. During their conversation he asked about me. He was not told I was about 30 feet away.
She later told me that the reason she did not tell Tom about me was because she feared he would attach himself to me as he did to her.
A month ago Tom’s sister was briefly back in town visiting family and some of Tom’s relatives, who still live here. She did not know where Tom was, hadn’t heard from him in years, so I asked her to ask his family. She reported back that they did not know where he was, either.
It’s possible Tom may be dead. He would be 59 if alive. But he’s been homeless for decades and that doesn’t allow for the best living conditions.
What happened to Tennis is terribly sad for me. He seemed to have academic and athletic success right in the hand that could throw the spear further than most athletes in the country. But for whatever reason he could not resist going the other way.
Hopefully, Tom has turned his life around and is happy now. I certainly hope that is the case.
It’s very disheartening to watch when kids with the ability don’t reach their full potential and achieve the success expected of them. But it happens all the time, and for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes the financial demands even with a scholarship are too much for families of these kids and it just doesn’t happen for them.
Often these kids find that being an athlete in a major D-1 school is too much like having a demanding job. It isn’t easy to combine academic studies with the demands of a D-1 sport and sometimes it’s just too much and isn’t fun anymore and the athlete drops out.
People who do not reach their full potential predate my sports writing days. My first experience began with a best friend. My nickname for my friend was “Putt.” Putt was a great high school student. I’m not sure what his grade-point average was, but it was much better than mine.
Putt had all the capabilities of being hugely successful. At least I thought so. I was, of course, dead wrong.
I got close to Putt during the summers of our early youth when we worked together pruning trees, and picking and bagging potatoes. We looked a lot alike. We were about the same height; I may have had an inch or so on him. People, in fact, thought we were twins.
Putt started smoking in high school and then post-high school started drinking. And despite a high GPA, he never went to college. He never thought about going to college, despite his dad being a college graduate who became a teacher.
As the years rolled by, Putt treaded water. He drank, he smoke, he worked odd jobs until hooking on with company that produced aluminum. Putt would work eight hours, drink eight hours, sleep eight hours, and on his off-days would drink 16 hours and sleep eight hours.
The company sent him to dry out 18 times before they fired him. That took years.
We drifted apart, which you would expect in such a case. I got a college degree, got married, became somewhat of a decent citizen and did all the things expected of being that decent citizen.
Putt continued to drink and smoke. I need to tell you all the people who knew him loved him. You couldn’t help being attracted to him. He was funny and full of life, even if most of it was spent in a tavern.
Our contacts became increasingly fewer and fewer as the years rolled on. And when we did get together, there wasn’t much to talk about. I had moved on with the years and Putt was stuck in the middle 1960s. He never left those years.
The last time I saw Putt was sometime in the 1980s and when I walked into the room where he was, he got up and left. He came back a few minutes later to just stare at me, and then he left.
Gone, just like that.
Putt died June 1, 1993 of cancer that had spread from his mouth to his brain. And he died the way he lived, with a cigarette in his mouth and a beer in his hand.
It’s sad to say that I don’t think of Putt much anymore. I always thought it was a wasted life. But maybe 10 years ago I suddenly realized that I could not feel guilty for him anymore. He did what he wanted to do, people liked him, and if that was good enough for him, it should be good enough for me.
So I let him go.
The only reason I am writing this now is that two days ago I heard a song and that song triggered Putt to enter my mind again. I had this urge to write something about him, and about Tennis.
So I have.
Putt and I had some good times in our late teens and early 20s. Then Putt stopped and I kept going. So it goes. A lot of water has gone under the bridge in the 20 years since he left this Earth, and I have gotten old while Putt has remained the same age.
Did Putt achieve his potential?
No.
Does it matter?
That’s for you to decide.
Be well pal.
Be careful out there.
Have a great day.
You are loved.