One of my best friends, Andy Kissenberth, reached out to me a few weeks ago and asked me to post a column on Facebook that his dad had written for his church. The piece was for his monthly column about stewardship, and this month’s subject was my offensive line coach in high school football, Joe Pribil. I had my marketing manager create a landing page, and posted it for Andy – not realizing how beloved Coach Pribil was. When I woke up the next morning, my Facebook was overwhelmed with responses about the post.
I have to admit that I was surprised by the mass of shares and comments. I liked Coach Pribil, but he didn’t make a major impact on me. Did I miss something? Why are all of these other people – many that I don’t know – falling all over themselves with praise of the man? I had to figure this out, so I let it settle in the back of my mind and I pondered on it for a few days. I glanced outside my window flying home from Dallas later that week, and that’s when it hit me – the reason everyone is so crazy about Coach Pribil, and the reason I wasn’t overwhelmed by him as a kid is the same reason. I didn’t miss anything. It was right there and I saw it, and now … now I appreciate it…
The reason: Coach Pribil treated us like men. Not just figuratively, he treated us like we were grown men with jobs and families. He never proclaimed that he was treating us in any particular way, but that’s how he communicated with us. He rarely (if ever) raised his voice. He always said hello in the halls, but treated us like every other student – football players were treated just the same as anyone else by Coach Pribil. Most memorable to me – he had a healthy perspective about life. Let me share a story that illustrates this style.
My senior year, the Merritt Island football team was nationally ranked, and the number one ranked team in Florida. We were 9 – 0, and preparing for our final game against 8 – 1 Vero Beach, also ranked in the top 5 in Florida. The winner would be the district champion and move on to the playoffs, the loser goes home. Unlike today, first and second place didn’t make the playoffs – only the winner. Most coaches, teachers, parents, and random citizens in Merritt Island made this game out to be the biggest event in our lives. For many of us, that was probably true to that point in our young lives. In the middle of this stress, when we were getting ready for a briefing about the offensive line’s game plan, Coach Pribil said to us: “Gentlemen – no matter what happens on Friday, we’ll still be eating Turkey on Thanksgiving Day in a couple weeks. I know you’ll play your guts out, and that’s all you can do.”
This is why everyone loved Coach Pribil. This is why I admire him today. This is also why I didn’t appreciate him as much as I should’ve in high school. I didn’t have high regard for perspective or maturity in high school. I was attracted to imbalance and attitude. I was desperate for guidance to becoming better and channeling my competitive nature – perhaps an unhealthy nature. I didn’t want to be treated like an adult – I wanted to be yelled at and high-fived for increasing my bench press or hitting a baseball 400 feet. I was an immature young man looking for motivation that typical jocks think they need. Don’t get me wrong – I was a good kid and had a great childhood, but I was a typical jock. Coach Pribil wouldn’t treat us like typical jocks. He treated us like men – like grown men with jobs and families. I wish I saw his brilliance then – I would’ve heard so many more of his pearls of wisdom.
