Lives touched

Gene Steinmeyer

Many coaches publicly say they got into coaching to touch people’s lives. I’m not going to question their motives, but I can only speak for myself. I got into coaching because the glory of the wins, the publicity and recognition the sport gives you. Then I got a big surprise: Sometimes you touch people’s lives by accident.

That fact hit me right in the face one day when I was taking gate at a wrestling match at Wilber-Clatonia High School, where I was the girls’ basketball coach. My first job had been a sixth grade teacher and assistant boys’ basketball position at Humboldt High School 10 years earlier.

A young man walked through the door and stopped to talk. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” he asked. I had no idea and admitted it. He said he was a sixth grader my first year of teaching. He proudly announced he was a math teacher because of me. I was there to learn to coach. Math was only something to earn extra money. It had to be an accident.

Nicholas Turner had seven tackles for loss and 3.5 sacks this past football season for Northwest. He had his last sack in the national championship game. The effect his death had on his coaches and teammates is very obvious. His number, 52, will be worn by a different defensive lineman at each game next year. I suspect that Adam Dorrel and Rich Wright, his head coach and defensive coordinator, left their marks on his short life.

I mentioned often and even wrote a book about one of my former players, Brenda Florian. Her mother said I made a difference in her life, but that’s just being nice. Brenda inspired an entire team to succeed despite having a leg amputated to cancer.

Erica Hatterman was one of the most unusual players I ever coached. Erica was very quiet when she came to Northwest Missouri State from a junior college. Her junior college team had won a national championship, but you wouldn’t know it just talking to Erica.

Erica was the best defensive player I ever coached. No offense to the rest of my former players, but her defense left everyone in the dust. We played man-to-man defense. If screened, we almost always switched players. However, we had something called the “Hatterman Rule.” It was a simple rule. Everyone should switch on screens except with Erica.

Stay with your own player. Erica could probably guard both players, but leave her to just one. Once we got the hang of it, I always matched Erica up with our opponent’s best offensive player. She never failed to shut the player down. Once there was a player from Emporia averaging more than 20 points per game. She didn’t score a single point against Erica.

Erica is now married with a young son. Almost two years ago, Erica was diagnosed with leukemia. There have been setbacks, but Erica attacks the disease like she did opposing players. Erica taught us all to be fighters and she has led by example, on and off the basketball court.

Sometimes things just happen by accident. At Doane College, one of my assistants was Dennis Nelson. Dennis was in the Doane College Hall of Fame for his talents on the basketball court. He had two daughters and a son. The middle daughter is Natalie.

Natalie was probably going to be the best basketball player of the three children. Before her sophomore year of high school, Dennis took his family with the German Club on a trip to Germany. While on the trip, the group did a lot of climbing in the Alps. Natalie came home complaining of knee pain.

Right after they arrived home, Natalie came to my basketball camp. The knee got worse and the Doane trainer suggested she leave camp and have it checked out. It was not a normal athletic injury. Natalie had a tumor on her knee that had honeycombed the bones and ligaments.

This especially scared me because of my experience with Brenda Florian and her losing battle with a tumor on her leg. The plan was to bombard the tumor with radiation and chemotherapy. If it shrunk, Natalie would have a knee replacement.

About this time, I sent her a get-well card. I visited her once or twice in the hospital. Then I moved to Maryville. I had a new job. Outside of asking Dennis about her daughter, I didn’t have any more contact with Natalie. Fortunately, the plan worked for Natalie and her knee was replaced. The bad news was she would never play sports like basketball again.

I moved to Maryville in 1999. At the end of 2004, I received an email from Natalie with two attachments. The first attachment was a scan of the get-well card I had sent six years earlier. The second was a picture of Natalie shaking hands with the President of the United States.

I had forgotten, but on the card was a picture of a wheelchair basketball player. The picture was to inspire. It was an accident on my part. The fact she had saved the card overwhelmed me.

Natalie had gone on to play wheelchair basketball at a very high level. She was selected to play in the handicap Olympic Games in Beijing. Her team won a gold medal. As a reward, Natalie and the team earned a trip to the White House and a picture with President Bush.

My reasons for getting into coaching were selfish. Natalie’s picture hung on my bulletin board outside my office until the day I retired. Sometimes you get lucky and can actually touch someone’s life.