Bleed Your True Colors

Anyone close to my dad knew that he was passionate about his sports' teams. Especially, his Pittsburgh sports' teams. Oh, and who could forget about his son and daughter's teams that included Clarion Area High School and Clarion University. My dad also had a great love for the Boston Celtics and Red Sox. Tony raised us in a family surrounded by sports. From the age of 5 I was playing in tee ball and YMCA soccer leagues, and I can vividly remember dad standing there proud in our team photos as one of our coaches with his unforgettable arms folded, wide stance, aviators on, with a straight face. No matter what level of play he was coaching, it meant more than just winning and losing. It was more about learning about who you were as a person and who you wanted to be as an individual. You can be the kid kicking and screaming begging to leave or you can be the kid who wants to learn from the coaches and practice over and over again.

For Lindsay and I, sports went way beyond the field of play. As we grew up, we were practicing not only with the team, but with our father, and having great one on one talks about how to better represent ourselves and how to be a better teammate. There were many instances when I can think back through were I made really poor choices, but I learned from them. For example, I was fed up with a kid who was sneaking cheep shots toward my best friend Sean Wolf and myself during a basketball game played in the Clarion University team basketball camp so I wound up and punched him square in the face. Sure enough Sean had my back and literally jumped on the kid's back and put him in a head lock. Obviously, we could have handled that situation differently but it was a situation I learned from. Dad made it clear that my choice to punch the kid was poor but he did not ground me. He actually only grounded me once in my life. It was not because I was a goody two shoes throughout my childhood, because I was anything but. However, it was because he knew that he could give me perspective on the situation that would make me feel small and I would want to change for the better. His lesson for me in the punching scene I put on was focused on how I was percieved by all the people in the gym that day that had no idea who I was. "It only takes one stupid mistake that will always be on your record" he would say. There were many people at that game that I had the deepest respect for; therefore I knew I had some mending to do. I personally apologized to the referees of that game, the court monitors, and even head coach, Ron Righter. Those apologies went a long way. Years later I became very good friends with the coaching staffs at the University and eventually became a graduate assistant for the women's golf and basketball programs.

Over the years of my sports' careers, I became much more of a leader than a knucklehead. What I really believe contributed to who I am today is the understanding that I am always representing myself wherever I go. When you think of Andrew Banner I want you to think of me and my brand in a positive manner. I take this lesson with me every second of every day.

P.S. Thanks dad for always coaching me to be a leader instead of a knucklehead.