In 2017, I don’t know how many of you still realize or understand the history of this. I was handed the DAC Valpo High School football team after the dismissal of our previous head coach. I was approached—now this is all full transparency—on a Saturday practice by our principal and the athletic director at the time. “Coach Marshall, here are the keys,” basically, is what was said.
At that point, I had been on staff for roughly 11 years, and I will tell you the first thing that crossed my mind was, most importantly, making sure that seniors like Coach Leftridge, who was on that team, and Coach Bernardi Jr., who was on that team, had a fighting chance against Penn as our opener in sectionals. My thoughts were on them, but I’ll tell you truthfully what my thoughts really were... here in a minute.
You guys all give me crap because I’m a country fan, right? I listen to all music, believe it or not. One of my favorite songs—in fact, I will tell you, one of the favorite songs that I have listened to since I was a head coach—is by The Fray, and it’s called “Over My Head.” All right, the feeling and the pressure that comes with being in a position to be the head coach and having 100 young men, a staff and their families that you are ultimately responsible for.
We’ll talk about it, and we’ll show firsthand the parents and our staff who already know it just how similar this is. So here are the lyrics—please don’t sing it.
🎵I’d rather run the other way than stay and see the smoke and who’s still standing when it clears. And everyone knows I’m in over my head, over my head, with 8 seconds left in overtime.🎵
Now, that song has nothing to do with football—zero to do with football. But what it’s referenced to is someone who is in over their head, and they know it. They’re in over their head, and they know it, but they wanted to run the other way. They didn’t. I didn’t. They wanted to go ahead and overcome, and that’s what that song is in my words.
This is the raw and honest emotion that I felt when I realized that I was in over my head. But I also had, luckily, a support group and a cast that helped me have the clarity and understanding that came during that struggle. The human journey is what it boiled down to be. We had highs; we had lows. We’ve had moments of triumph, and we witnessed last year in the regional; we’ve had moments of defeat.
But my symbol of hope—really my anthem of courage—was that song, “I’m in Over My Head.” But you have to persevere; I had to persevere. I had to do it not for me, but I had to do it for the other people—the other players, the other coaches, the community, the families that were all involved with that.
The reason I bring this up is because of this: (Coach Marshall called the names of numerous players to please stand up) These young men right here in front of you are in over their heads. They’re in over their heads. There is not one person that just stood here that has started and finished a complete varsity season, but yet all of them are going to be called to play tomorrow night.
We have five returning starters—that’s it, just five. But here is what you probably don’t know because you haven’t read your scouting reports, because I didn’t want to tell you until this evening. Penn has the exact same number of actual returning starters back that have any experience, offensively or defensively. Their tight end, their offensive tackle, their offensive guard, a wide receiver, and a strong safety. Our greenness, our youngness, are just like theirs.
So what it boils down to is this: there are three different types of fear that you’ll experience in life—fear of loss (you can’t do anything about that; the ones you love are destined to pass—it happens, sometimes far too soon), the two other ones are the fear of failure and the fear of regret.
I don’t think we have a fear of failure because if we had a fear of failure, you’d be like the other however many kids that go to this high school. You wouldn’t even attempt to do what you are doing. That’s why they don’t do it—they have a fear of failure. You are the few that do.
But fear of regret is the one that ultimately will come back and haunt you. Fear of regret is debilitating; it’s the one that you have absolutely zero control over, to be mirrored by fear of loss because you can’t stop somebody from dying. But fear of regret—it won’t just plague you at the end of life like a loss will—it will plague you for the duration of your life. Not playing all out because of fear.
And fear, by the words of Zig Ziglar, can be broken down into two ways: it is finding excuses and reasons or face everything and rise. I’m encouraging you—I’m challenging you—don’t go ahead and find excuses and reasons as to why you couldn’t get your job done.
How many of you watched the Paris Olympics? Anybody watch the Olympics? Okay, the United States is approaching 3,000 all-time medals—the most of any country. But this year alone, we also wrapped up 257 total medalists in the Olympics. Now, I think we had 126 medals, (40 golds, 44 silvers, 42 bronzes) but the number of medalists, because there are team sports and stuff like that, was 257. Sixty-five percent of them had never been on the podium in their lives. Sixty-five percent of the most well-trained, highly trained athletes had never experienced the Olympic Games.
That is that first group of names that I just called up. And guess what? Sixty-five percent of them won a medal.
Because it boils down to this: right now, in all honesty, you’re ranked number 25 in the state. That’s the lowest ranking we have had since my first full season as a head coach in 2018.
You have been counted out; you have been discredited. You’re injury-riddled, as we all have witnessed and seen. And people have said to me verbatim, “This team’s going to have to get lucky.”
Well, I have a message for that idea of luck. Luck is nothing more than preparation meeting opportunity.
That’s what I want you to rest your head on tonight, and when you wake up tomorrow, that’s the mentality you have to take.
Pregame jitters are normal—everybody gets them. It doesn’t mean you’re not ready. In fact, psychologically speaking, it means the exact opposite. If you don’t have jitters, I’m worried because that means you’re not ready. Because you know that by doing your job, you’re going to help this team, and by not doing it, you will let this team down.
That is a heavy weight to carry, and that’s why you know you're ready!
Go Beat Penn!
#JobsNotFinished