First of all, my apologies if this post goes long, and thank you to those who make it all the way through.
I'm currently a middle school ELA teacher in a small community known as Woodlake, CA, which is tucked into the Western foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, a stone's throw from the Sequoia National Park. Woodlake is primarily populated by migrant farm workers, and is for all intents and purposes, a very poor town. I grew up 15 minutes away in Exeter, a town that around these parts is known as "The Rival." From the first day I stepped foot into my classroom over 4 years ago, the blood in my veins changed from blue and gold to orange and black. Conveniently and shamelessly, we are known as the Bengals, our Bengal graphic "borrowed" from the Cincinnati football Bengals.
Each year before Christmas break I have my students write a letter to someone famous that they admire, and have them include an index card and self-addressed stamped envelope, in hopes the person to whom they write will respond. This idea came to me because of a very fond memory I have as a child of my father, who was the sports booster president for both the Exeter middle school and high school in town, curating sports cards from his personal collection, and mailing them around the country in hopes of getting them signed, so that he could use them as silent auction items. The level of excitement I'd feel when he'd check his box at the school, and come home with countless returns from players like Cal Ripken Jr., Kirby Puckett, Frank Thomas, and the likes. His undertaking inspired me, as a third grader, to write my favorite player, Larry Wayne Jones, Jr., not because he was on the Braves, but because his name was Chipper.
I found the one card I had of him, a 1991 Bowman RC, which at the time was worth $5 (had I checked Beckett before sending, I never would have chosen this card, as it was my most valuable card). About a week after I sent it, I started checking the mailbox...nothing. Day after day for the next couple months, I'd listen for the mailman to come around the corner, run to the mailbox, only to repeatedly be disappointed. It got to a point where I had simply forgotten to care. Fast forward 2 years, I'm in 5th grade, and on a hot June afternoon while on summer break, I casually walk to the mailbox to check the mail. I open the door, pull out the stack, and notice an envelope addressed to me, in some foreign handwriting I did not recognize. As any self-respecting 10 year old would do, I ripped open the envelope to find this:
Back to the present. Over the last 4 years, my students have gotten some pretty cool returns, including an Emmanuel Sanders signed jersey, Yo-Yos from the most current world champions, and countless autographs from various celebrities and sports stars, my personal favorite being, and our first ever return, Adam West, who signed the index card, and wrote, "To my pal Christian."
Every year, I also send letters, as an example for my students to follow. This year I decided to send a letter to each of the coaches on the Ohio State football staff, as well as countless players on NFL rosters. I found images of each of them online, printed them on photo paper, wrote a letter, and enclosed the letter, the image, and a self-addressed stamped envelope in hopes of getting a return. They were all sent at the beginning of October. I got my first return last week:
Greg Mattison. The Octagonal item is a block "O" which he signed the back. The next return I got the same week:
Matt Barnes, special teams and secondary coach, "WVMS" is the abbreviated name of the school where I teach. It wasn't until today while I was taking the picture, that I saw this:
I'm in awe of the time he took to write a personalized message. And just today, I got my third response:
Brian Hartline, 2020's top recruiter, wide receiver coach extraordinaire, and my personal favorite coach.
As I type this, I sit in awe of the time these gentlemen took not only to open my letter, but read what I wrote, follow through with what I asked, and go one step further by adding a personal note. Our players are being coached by these guys, and I certainly could not be more proud to be called a fan of THE Ohio State University.
To those of you who made it to the bottom of this, thank you so much for reading. I lost my mom in March after an abbreviated 2-month fight with cancer, so holding onto every single memory I can while creating new ones is of the utmost importance to me. At least by typing these words here, they'll never truly go away, as will the memories we make, good, bad, or indifferent.
