I often chalk about my Exile in
Indy, and though I speak fondly of it many years later, the truth is,
I never wanted to be there.
Because of that, I probably kept myself from
getting everything I could have out of my years in the Hoosier State.
Time has a way of changing the view.
The older I get, the less I remember how
badly I wanted to leave and the more I remember the many dear people I met
while I was there. People I still think about. People who helped shape me and
guide me.
The mentors, the neighbors, the coaches,
the teachers... My friends.
There is one of those people who, without
either of us ever realizing it at the time, has been with me almost every day
of my career.
Especially after the trading pits closed and
the shouting and hand signals of the trading floor were replaced by computer
monitors and keyboards.
Coach Tom O'Brien.
Coach built athletes who went on to great
heights. He mentored young men who became clergymen, service members,
politicians, businessmen, coaches, fathers, and leaders. His legacy reached
into all walks of life.
For me, his legacy can be heard in the
pounding of a keyboard at my trading desk.
… And I mean pounding.
The cacophony of my fingers beating on those
poor keys has driven coworkers crazy for years.
Once, a Millennial kid in the office asked
me to take it easy.
"You don't have to take out your
aggression on the keyboard dude."
Then he asked if I knew what the home row was
and informed me that a person
could actually type using more than four fingers.
I explained that I learned how to type on a
typewriter from the basketball coach at Dear Old Cathedral High School and I will continue doing it exactly the way I like.
Then, loudly under my breath:
"Mind your own business, you
little jagoff."
Of all the things I learned in Catholic
school, two of the most useful things I carried into adulthood were my
rosary and my typewriter skills.
Prayer and work.
More
than forty years ago, I never imagined Coach O'Brien's typing class would help
carry me through the rest of my life, but it did.
Every morning, I sit down and type this
Chalkboard. Every workday, I sit at a trading desk and pound bids and offers
into the market.
I can do both because a basketball coach
at Cathedral took the time to teach and mentor a sad kid with a Chicago
accent.
Coach O'Brien will rightfully be
remembered for the great basketball players he coached and sent on to bigger stages.
Names like Kenny Barlow and Scotty Hicks are part of his legacy.
… But for every star athlete whose name
people remember, there are thousands of guys like me.
Kids who were not going to play college
basketball. Kids who were not going to have their names in the newspaper. Kids
sitting in a classroom who didn't yet have the slightest idea what direction
life was going to take them.
Coach taught us, pushed us, and expected
something from us. Practice, practice, practice.
We thought he was teaching us how to
type. He was teaching us how to work.
Coach O'Brien took his whistle up to
heaven yesterday.
The width of his legacy is wider than most
because it cannot be measured simply in victories, championships or the
athletes who went on to play college basketball.
It is measured in lives, in families, in
careers, in classrooms, capitol buildings, battleships, churches, homes and
offices.
And, apparently, on one loud keyboard at a
commodity trading desk in Chicagoland.
So one more time for Coach...
Here come the Irish, the mighty,
mighty Irish...
Wherever we go, people want to know
who we are, so we tell them...
WE ARE THE IRISH! THE MIGHTY, MIGHTY IRISH!
May your memory always be a blessing, Coach
O'Brien.
Thank you for pushing me during my
Exile in Indy. I didn't appreciate everything about those years when I was
living them. It took me a long time to understand how many good people were
quietly pointing me in the right direction.
Coach was one of them.
Maybe that is why this morning's Chalkboard
quote feels especially appropriate…
The compass came before the clock because
direction matters more than time.
Chalkheads, most of us were fortunate
enough to have somebody come into our lives who made our foundation a little
stronger and pointed our compass in a better direction.
Sometimes we do not recognize what they gave
us until years later.
We were all blessed that Coach Tom
O'Brien came in our direction.
Go Irish.
