Coaching Journal: Remembering Frank—and What’s Important

I love sports. I love playing them, watching them, and coaching them. I have coached everything from recreation soccer and basketball, when my daughter was little, to high school basketball, and for the last 20 years, high school tennis. I am currently in the middle of my boys tennis season and for the last few weeks I’ve been thinking of the dramatic ways that this pandemic has changed high school sports. To say that we are all just happy to be here is an oversimplification, but the truth is, we are all just happy to be here. It’s been a year of limitations, of compromises, of uncertainty. To be on the courts—or in the gym or on the field—with our players is a gift. And one that few high school coaches are taking for granted this spring. 

I could go on to say that we have shifted our priorities, that most of us have remembered again what is really important about high school sports. Because this year we do not know if our season will be shut down tomorrow or if all of the teams we are scheduled to play will be able to play, or if there will even be a state tournament, we have been forced to live in the moment. To really consider what the essence of our job as coaches is. And, suddenly, the endgame doesn’t seem as important as it used to. Teaching our players to love the game, to work hard to develop the skills to play it well, and to be a positive member of a team seem more important than just about everything else.  

A little over a week ago, just as I was beginning to write this post, something very sad happened, something I have been thinking about a lot and something I feel compelled to write about: A wonderful man in his mid-50’s suddenly, and unexpectedly passed away. Frank Gasparino was the husband of a colleague, the Dad to three wonderful daughters (who are also my former students) and a beloved youth coach in the community in which I have spent my career.  In the days following his death, the story of Frank Gasparino began to take shape on social media. Although I had only met him a few times, I was struck by the outpouring of love and respect in the community. Over the span of nearly two decades, he had coached hundreds of kids, headed up committees and programs and did it all with the humble grace of a guy doing it for all the right reasons. Parents posted pictures of their young kids being coached by him; former players wrote moving tributes and thank you posts; students in my classes remembered his kindness and patience; and the town and high school softball players honored him by wearing his initials on their batting helmets. 

So much love. So much respect. Such a good reminder of how important the people who introduce sports to our kids really are.

Youth sports can change the trajectory of a child’s life. Seriously. The first experience a child has with sports is often in a recreation program with volunteer coaches. These coaches are often just moms and dads, busy with their lives, but wanting to contribute their knowledge and love of sports to their kids’ programs and to the community. Sometimes they’re good and sometimes not. We’ve all read the stories of the overzealous little league coach and the hyper-competitive soccer parents, screaming at the refs and at each other. I don’t know, though, that we have spent enough time talking about the coaches like Frank. Coaches that understand that they have the power to shape how the kids in front of them feel about sports—and just as importantly, how they feel about themselves.

Frank was that guy. Now, I won’t pretend to know all that Frank did, but what I am piecing together is that he was instrumental in helping the youth soccer program flourish in Hasbrouck Heights and that he worked tirelessly to help make sure that the girls in town had a softball program worthy of its young athletes. And, according to people who knew him well, he was always volunteering in the community through his work with the Men’s Association and other organizations he belonged to.  These are all his big-picture contributions—the legacy he has left in this small close-knit community. The small acts, though, are what I find most inspiring.

Maya Angelou famously wrote: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” According to every single person I spoke to and every single social media post I read, Frank not only taught generations of kids the basics of soccer and softball, but he also taught them about hard work and commitment, about the importance of being a good teammate, and about finding the joy in the game. He did all of this with extraordinary kindness, patience and a humble attitude. He made kids feel welcome, feel successful, and probably most importantly, he made sports a place where they had fun. 

And for this, we high school coaches and parents alike owe Frank an enormous debt of gratitude.  And that’s exactly what this post is—a thank you note. So, thank you, Frank Gasparino, for your deep understanding of what is truly important about sports, for sharing your time and passion with the kids in our community and for reminding us of the power—and responsibility—we coaches carry onto the field with us each and every day.