Keith Warner didn't get a chance to see Timpview High School's tennis team end Ogden's tennis dominance Saturday —he was fighting for his life at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center in Provo just a few blocks away from the BYU tennis courts. Had he been in a different room perhaps he could have even seen the courts from his hospital bed.
I wish he could have. I wish he would have felt up to going with me to watch the state 4A girls tennis tournament. We would have enjoyed it together. We could have appreciated the long rallies, the strong returns and powerful aces and reminisced about the times we would play a set for a chocolate shake or strawberry shake, depending on who won.
I know Keith — he's my father, and the one thing he loved even more than watching a good tennis match or a football game was good sportsmanship.
Dad would have had a beaming smile when Ogden, the winners of seven straight titles in a row and 15 titles in the last 17 years, stepped aside and let Timpview girls smile into a flurry of flashes as they posed for a team picture.
There was no racket throwing, no claims or arguments about foot faults or insulting fans — just congratulatory hugs as Ogden's team passed the championship torch to Timpview's girls and graciously accepted its new second-place status.
In the hundreds of football, basketball, volleyball and soccer games that I go to each year, I always look for acts of good sportsmanship, ones dad would like.
He would have liked the way Spanish Fork football coach Everett Kelepolo handled a 21-0 loss to Timpview. It was the Dons' first loss of the year, and one that probably cost Spanish Fork the Region 8 title. Kelepolo met me at midfield and patiently answered tough questions. He accepted the blame for the loss and gave Timpview the credit. If ever there was an example of how to handle a setback, it was here. In defeat, Kelepolo set a standard.
I remember walking off the field, amazed he could be so gracious.
As for me, I've always had trouble handling a loss. I still kick my bat bag when I ground out and pout after a loss.
But I've told dad I'll be better.
I guess that's why I'm always so impressed with others who have reached a level of sportsmanship that is so far above my own.
A few weeks ago, I slid into second base during a baseball game and was called out. The shortstop on the other team knew he missed the tag and so did I. Since there was only one umpire working the game, I tried to bit my tongue; however before I could say anything, the shortstop admitted he missed the tag and the umpire reversed his call.
Naturally, one of dad's favorite columns I've written is one on sportsmanship. It was called “The Drury Trophy,” for Provo High School basketball coach Craig Drury intentionally getting a technical foul near the ned of a game that had already been decided so the opposing coach could have one of his injured players shoot a free throw.
These are examples of sportsmanship that you just don't read about in man newspapers. Too much a space and attention is given to incidents like that of Albert Belle throwing a baseball at a photographer or Roberto Alomar spitting on an umpire.
I guess I've come to realize by watching dad struggle to regain his health after continuous setbacks that the way you play is more important than the outcome.
As numerous well-wishers offered dad the words of encouragement, “I hope you get feeling better," he would often force a smile and reply, “May it be so."
Dad's gone now — he slipped away from us Sunday afternoon. But I'll always be looking for true acts of sportsmanship for dad. I know he realized that when emotions have calmed and time has passed, more people will remember you for your sportsmanship than for your record.
I'm not there yet, but I've told dad I'll be better. I'll try harder to make him proud. Even though he's not here now to say those words, still, I know what he would say.
“May it be so."
BACK TO FAVORITE COLUMNS