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Old Bricks & Faded Photographs
March has descended upon the Green Industry with a fury and outside of our domain, the world of sports is launching full bore into March Madness, the most exciting time of the year for most basketball fans. Sometimes I allow myself to conjure up fading memories of the long ago days when I too laced up those sweaty old high top Converse All Star basketball shoes before wading out into the din of those tiny small town gyms where we gave our all for our schools and those pretty cheerleaders whose attention and affection we courted. I know more than a few guys whose memory of their past athletic prowess comes under the heading of the older they get, the better they were. I have no such delusions of past grandeur. My memories are much more realistic. There was a moment or two to be sure, but a fair share of my high school athletic career (if you could call it that) was spent riding the bench until I could earn the right and the honor of playing with the first team. A lot more splinters in the behind than glory.
Many life lessons were learned during those precious years and I guess that's why this old brick that came from my old high school gym is so important to me. A few years ago, the old gym was demolished. It had grown old and creaky, not unlike so many of us who spent countless hours of after school practice there. It had outlived its usefulness and was banished to become a pile of rubble to make way for something newer and more functional. As soon as word was out that the demolition had started, a pilgrimage of sorts also began. So many of us who left a good portion of our youth within those confines came back to pay our last respects and without exception, each one of us came away with one of the old bricks, our last tangible connection to those long gone days of our youth and a badge of honor that we earned literally, with volumes of blood, sweat, and tears that could be measured in liters. Anyone who ever played high school sports seriously will understand.  To this day, I love and respect each of the two men, different as they were, who coached us during those formative and impressionable years. My first coach (Freshman through Junior years) was more like a Marine Drill Sergeant with an intense focus on conditioning and pushing us to our absolute limits. Virtually every practice was like going to the infamous Parris Island for Boot Camp. He brought out a strength, a resolve, and a discipline in me that I had no idea I possessed. My last coach (who came my Senior year) was more like a big brother who believed that enjoying the game was an integral part of the process. He helped grow my performance to another level simply because I was so strongly motivated to win for him. I will admit that it took a few years distance to fully appreciate the total experience, but in the rear view mirror of my adult life, I wouldn't have missed any of it for the world. A condensed collage of memories includes: the entire team being punished by having to dribble basketballs while blindfolded for 45 minutes, never ending wind sprint sessions, sprained ankles, running wind sprints on crutches, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach after getting caught under the glare of a street light, breaking curfew the weekend before the State Tournament, more wind sprints, miraculous come from behind wins, crushing defeats, having to wear ankle weights to improve my speed, often praying that I would pass out in practice because quitting was not an option, stinging criticism that cut to the bone, and pats on the back that made it all worthwhile. And did I mention wind sprints? These and so many more memories and lessons that I still carry with me today, had their origins in that old gym.
I learned that I can bear insufferable physical and mental pain, far beyond what I ever imagined that I could.
I learned that you must make your presence and impact known in any activity you engage in, whether it be on the athletic field or in the business world. Let someone know you've been there. Leave your mark.
I learned that fear of failure is often the greatest obstacle of success.
I learned that I could count on myself when the chips were down.
I learned that the small details that you attend to, correctly and persistently along the way, have as much to say about the final score as the game winning shot at the buzzer.
I learned that I want to be in the arena, not in the stands.
I learned to never give up, no matter how dire a situation may seem. If we could win a State Quarter Final game where we trailed by 10 points for most of the game, by 3 points with 10 seconds to go, and by 1 point with 1 second to go, with the ball in our opponent's possession at the FAR end of the court, then Nothing is impossible.
I learned that you get more out of people by encouraging and inspiring them, than by criticizing and intimidating them.
I learned that everyone who is ten years older than a teenager is not necessarily an adult. (Coaches make mistakes too).
I learned that winners never quit and quitters never win; that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. These are not merely a coach's words, they are choices you make on how to conduct your life.
I learned that the harder you work for something, the more you appreciate it.
I learned that there is no greater bond than one forged by working together with teammates towards a common goal; putting in the required time, learning the fundamentals, practicing the discipline, sharing the sweat, then sticking together during the lowest moments and celebrating with each other when it all works out. These are the bonds that neither time nor age nor geography can shake.
And I learned that dribbling a basketball blindfolded isn't nearly as difficult as it sounds and that running wind sprints on crutches is a lot easier than on foot.
And what does any of this have to do with the nursery business? You decide
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Thought For The Day
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
Theodore Roosevelt
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Been There, Done That
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Glory Days By Bruce Springsteen |
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Spotlight on Pachysandra
Little Green Monsters!
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of 50 Cell Pachysandra, stuck THREE Per Cell.
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1.800.672.4964 |
Starter Plugs
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1.800.672.4964 |
Perennial Pipeline
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Calamagrostis brachytricha |
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Jan Kirsh
Good friend and multi-talented client, Jan Kirsh, will have her fabulous larger than life garden sculptures on display at the world renowned Ladew Topiary Gardens' annual Garden Festival, debuting her latest creation, The Strawberry Couple.
This festival has become "a must-see for gardening enthusiasts seeking unusual plants and decorative garden furnishings" and includes top quality nurseries, growers, and vendors, on hand to entice visitors with their exclusive collections of exotic perennials, annuals, and container specialties.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
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Pup of the Week
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Webster |
Webster, we believe, is a Wheaten/ labra-doodle mix. He is about 18 months old and weighs around 65 pounds. He is a very high energy puppy: with a puppy comes puppy behavior! An ideal home for Webster would be very athletic: adopters who would run fast and hike strenuously with him DAILY! If Webster is under exercised or bored in his home, he can get into mischief! Webster's potential adopters need to understand that he needs training and will have to be taught what the house rules are in a structured environment. This takes time, energy, and strong commitment on the part of his adopter! He has a winning personality is highly intelligent and 1000% trainable, not to mention adorable! Webster is NOT the right match for a casual dog owner, but will make an incredible companion for the family or individual who has the time and energy to put in the work. He gets along well with other dogs, and would do well in a home with another young dog and a secure outside area in which to play.
Webster attends our Sunday adoption events along with most of our other available dogs at the Healthy Spot pet supply store, 1110 Wilshire Blvd., Santa Monica, CA 90401. We are there from 11 am until 3 pm every other Sunday.
INTERESTED IN ADOPTING?
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Yours Truly |  | |
For better or for worse, I am responsible for all content herein. I welcome your comments and constructive criticism.
Bo Tidwell |
Our Mission
To Make The Earth Greener,
Your Job Easier, &
Your Business More Profitable
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