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Littleton Tragedy Has Prep Coach Asking Questions

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NEWSDAY

The flag that waved over the Long Island high school was at half-staff for the students and the teacher killed in Littleton, Colo. But in his office, the coach didn’t have to see the flag.

He and his son-the-star had made an appointment with me to talk about what it meant to learn for the first time that high school students resented along with the customary blacks and Jews athletes and the jock culture so much that they would kill. Then the coach called back and said he was sorry, but the son wouldn’t be available. “We talked at home about the incident,” Coach explained. “I don’t think kids think about the deep-seated biases involved. They think these were two kids who flipped out. It was probably true; somewhere they were hurt--if only in their minds--by athletes. I’ve seen resentment of athletes.

“I thought it would have been good for my son to discuss this. At home, my wife said she didn’t want his name in the paper right now--don’t call attention to him, don’t ask for a copycat. And you know, she’s right. On the radio this morning, the news was full of copycat after copycat incidents. If it would put my son in jeopardy, I’m a father first.”

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And my wife concurred, “If it was my son, I wouldn’t want him interviewed on this right now.”

That’s the thought in our minds here. How much different are we from them? Are we different at all?

So Coach and I decided there was no need to name him or his school. He’s identifiable if you already know him. He played professional football in Denver for a couple of years. He lived in Littleton. “I couldn’t believe it could happen in that community,” Coach said. “It seemed so perfect.”

America pays too much tribute to the jock and jock culture. Still, Long Island is not the Deep South or the Southwest with their fascination for the Friday night lights of high school football. Coach said that during an undefeated season, his assistant coaches asked students in the hallway if they could name the quarterback and many couldn’t. Our relative indifference to high school sports is healthy.

But we all know the lyric that you gotta be a football hero to get the beautiful girl. And we know the true stories of the athlete who is passed along because he is a basketball or football star. His trophy and his picture usually are in the trophy case next to the principal’s office.

“You want to help kids change, so sometimes we cut them a break,” Coach said. “We do it for a lot of kids. But if they see an athlete get a break, some of them think athletes get breaks. I’d be lying if I said there’s no resentment for something an athlete did. A lot of times, kids do something and don’t know why.”

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At that moment, the sound of athletes dressing for practice came through the wall--loud and vulgar. Coach opened the door. The voices had fled. “Like cursing,” Coach said. “I say ‘Pardon me’ to them and they don’t even know they did it; they say they talk that way at home. They say things that hurt and don’t know it.”

He said he tries to make his players aware of other kinds of people in school. Some, to the jocks, are nerds. Coach points out to them that some of their nerds are the ones who sing and dance so well in school productions. His school has a prominent display case for academic and artistic achievement, as well as one for the sports trophies. One adaptive class student recently was honored for winning a state prize for hairdressing. But still Coach will hear an athlete in gym class say he doesn’t want “that one” on his team.

“It hurts that kid,” Coach said. “The athlete thinks, ‘Ha, ha.’ What did they feel in Littleton?”

Coaches can do only so much, but all of our coaches ought to ask that question. Coach said he tries to set an example of respect. He said he might take a lagging student to a teacher and ask how they can work out a problem, and, Coach said, he suspended one of his best players for two games because he was cutting class. He cited trying to teach conflict resolution to an athlete who grew up fighting his way to and from school.

“Sometimes, you just know it’s not going to work,” Coach said. One failure committed murder. Another who Coach thought was “a good kid” was caught dealing drugs in college.

“I know some people hate my son,” Coach said. “People called Newsday to object when he made All-Long Island as a sophomore. Project that to Littleton; things you don’t worry about, you start to worry about. The last few days, I’ve been asking who’s treating somebody with disrespect.

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“Listen to the way kids relate to each other--not just athletes: Now is somebody saying, ‘You picked on me one time too many?’ ”

In the midst of the Littleton tragedy was the heroism of Dave Sanders, the longtime coach who risked his life in the hail of fire and lost his life saving students. “That man cared about kids,” Coach said. “He believed in kids.

“Here, I see a lot of coaches who believe in kids. I rarely see a coach walk away from an incident.”

Coach identifies himself as a yeller for 27 years in the job. “If I yell at a kid because he missed a block, I try to make sure I talk to him later,” he said. “If I yell at one kid, I make sure I yell at some others. I wonder after practice, ‘Did you yell at a kid and not get to talk to him?’

“Columbine High School--what a great place to go to school. Are we any different?”

In Denver, my friend Mike Littwin, a columnist for the Rocky Mountain News, wrote, “If you think you know the answer, you’re wrong.”

But we have to ask the question.

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