or the past year, I have shared with readers of this column bits and pieces of my history from which I’ve drawn principles vital, in my opinion, to sport and the world beyond. Allow me one more episode, if you
or the past year, I have shared with readers of this column bits and pieces of my history from which I’ve drawn principles vital, in my opinion, to sport and the world beyond.
Allow me one more episode, if you will.
I covered John Simmons during his junior and senior year at St. Augustine (Fla.) High School. Covered, I should confess, being the objective formal term I used to conceal my reverence for the athlete.
I, along with the rest of St. Johns County and stretching up to the Jacksonville area, stood in awe of the boy’s basketball skill.
He could’ve competed at the highest level in just about any sport. Simmons would have been an all-area wide receiver, track star, center-fielder, martial artist, bowler, dart thrower – you name it. Lucky for the hoops fan, basketball was his choice, and he devoted much of his life to it.
Simmons picked up a basketball at the age of four and, one would guess, put it down only to shower. He was 6-foot-1, 175 pounds. Though rail thin, he was cut like a Venice Beach bodybuilder.
He had Division-I standout written all over him. He was recruited by the University of Auburn. Florida State also showed interest.
In the areas of dribbling, jumping, shooting, defense, court awareness and speed, his talent, many said, was unmatched by any hoopster ever raised in the county.
When I left St. Augustine 15 months ago, the 19-year-old Simmons was working at a Blockbuster Video, playing pick-up ball whenever he could and hanging with his old friends.
“I think I’m gonna stay in St. Augustine,” Simmons said to me the last time we played together. “Not that interested in leaving.”
So it goes with kids everywhere.
So it goes with kids from Kaua’i.
There is athletic talent on this island, folks. Lots of it. Per capita, an impressive amount.
Too much of it is going nowhere.
Too much of it graduates from high school and stays put, afraid of what lies beyond the wall of water surrounding this island. There are baseball players, volleyball players, even football players with enough skill to get on at a Division II, III or NAIA program. And there are schools on the Mainland looking for just such talent.
Are grades holding back Kaua’i’s kids? In some part, probably. But I know of a college in Puhi with the power to help. There is no shame in proving oneself educationally with work at a community college before moving on to the next level.
What about laziness.? That’s a factor, too.
Complacency? Bingo.
And fear. Fear of the unknown. Uncertainty about life on the Mainland. Feelings of abandonment of the Motherland, Kaua’i.
These are all legitimate concerns – though I can’t speak from experience.
Once I received my high school diploma, I began to see the world as my doorstep. I knew that each stop along the way would not only make me stronger, but also teach me things about life that I would one day be able to share in the community of my settling.
On the contrary, Simmons made it clear: St. Augustine was his home, and because uncertainty waited beyond the county line, he wanted nothing of relocation.
And neither do some of Kaua’i’s kids. This island is unlike any place I’ve ever been, or am likely ever to be again. It’s magnetic and offers an attractive lifestyle. But, despite its comforts, it’s also a mere morsel of what’s available.
More importantly, it will always be here.
I couldn’t convince Simmons of that. He wouldn’t entertain the idea that St. Augustine would always be an option for him. And he was far too narrow-minded to recognize that his years away from the city might serve him AND the community. He would’ve picked up wisdom and culture, turned himself into a valuable asset upon his return.
Fear clouded his rational mind. Now he is relatively directionless. Despite solid grades and more athletic ability than any young man I’d met before or have met since, Simmons works a 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. shift at the video store. The people he plays ball with, hangs with, haven’t changed since grade school.
Talent like his, possessed in part by some Kaua’i kids, is not given out arbitrarily. For what they can bring to a community and beyond, the gifted were chosen. It is incumbent upon them to maximize their skill, use it as a vehicle not only for their own enjoyment but also for the betterment of others.
Complacency is awarded with an unflattering label: untapped potential.
