Preps Archive

Growing up from sports

Zuri Berry with the trophy for the 2001 San Francisco section football championship.
Here I am, inspired by graduation season. It’s all that potential for greatness that has me giddy. I think, without a doubt, the best memories from high school are the ones on the playing field.

But the best days for the former prep athlete are always ahead.

I look fondly back on my prep sports days. They were tough, they were exciting and they keep me filled with memories that I don’t believe will ever die. But what’s more pivotal than any highlight reel rolling through my own head is the simple life lessons I derived from my experiences.

Hard work will never be underscored.

As the many prep athletes at our collective high schools matriculate to college or just move on to the next great challenges and engagements in their lives, I’m uncertain that the significance of this life-altering shift has dawned on the vast majority of graduates. They will all sorely miss the camaraderie of their teams and their schools, but this will in turn make them stronger and better people. Inevitably, they will have to look upon, as I did, their successes and failures and find some meaning from the following questions: Why the hell did I do all that running? What was the point in playing this sport for four years — at times, six days a week — and not moving on to the next level? Am I good enough to play college ball? Why am I playing college ball?

These are some tough questions and answers that each person has to ask and answer themselves. (Remember, you’re not crazy so long as you don’t argue with yourself.) The faster you get to answering those questions, the quicker you can determine some life goals.

For a long time, all I vied to be in school was a jock — until I became one. I still hate the idea of calling myself a jock, but that was how I acted; As if there were no other reason to be at school other than to take part in some athletic showmanship. I was in it for the love of sport and the girls that came with it. These are the confessions of a former prep athlete.

But as I went along that path for four years, I did not like the idea of being known for only one thing. In my case, it was for playing on the football team. I thought it was rather juvenile that I could be all of these things in my head — writer, actor, comedian, athlete, etc. — and yet be defined by the one. I am many things, but an athlete is not one of them. Sadly, most of our local kids will come to this realization too, if they have not already. For others, they have legitimate reasons to chase dreams of grandeur. More power to them. (I wrote about the football afterlife here.) But for all, there has to be a reason to get up every day and push dumb bells, run five miles, shoot 100 3-pointers or simply work 9-to-5. What is the inspiration, or better yet, motivation?

Let’s cut to the chase.

Without discipline, hard work, and the knowledge of how teamwork can be successful, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I attribute that directly to football. That’s not something you can learn or replicate in many places outside of the military. It’s what gives many a former athlete inspiration for what they do now, and what they know they can do in the future.

In the short term, most kids simply play in high school because their friends are doing it, they’ve watched enough of it on TV to spark some interest, or their parents pushed them into doing something for an extracurricular activity. In the long term, you do it because you love the game, you want to continue to play, to be involved or to pass on the love. I write about sports to pass on the love.

At one point, our 2009 graduates are going to have to decide how much they love their game of choice, and with that decision, how to utilize the non-athletic skills sports have given them. I contend that they’ll be better off with whatever choice they make because of the simple life-long lessons. It’s just a matter of when they’ll cross that bridge with their decisions.


Editor’s note: This column originally appeared in The Union.

Dear Santa: Get me a winner!!


All I want for Christmas is a winner.

Kings, Warriors, 49ers, Raiders, Giants and A’s, take notes.

You too, Sharks. You’re not out of the woods yet.

When you step out, do so with the intention of winning. Nothing else. And when you plan for the future of your franchise, plan with the intent of winning. Nothing else.

If I hear about this false pretense of “rebuilding” one more time, I swear to the Lord almighty I will throw my television out the window and lead the rest of my days as a recluse in the Sierra foothills.

Why? Because I’d rather be ignorant of Northern California’s collective incompetence than spare another second of my time on Earth being complicit in this buffoonery. It’s either second place or the worst of the worst. And if history is any precursor, those that plan to rebuild are planning to fail. Just picture being a lifelong Cincinnati Bengals fan. Or how about an L.A. Clippers fan?

That’s hurt.

And honestly, that’s too much hurt for any one fan to handle. So instead of starting my own self-help group and letting my fantasy leaguemates get angry at me because I’m ignoring my duties as commissioner, I’m going for the Hail Mary.

Santa, you’re a few years overdue and I suggest you pay what you owe.

Is it too much to ask that when one of our area teams takes to the playing field (listen up 49ers), that they attempt to win every game? I can’t for the life of me remember a year in which there was more disappointment after acquiring so much talent to bolster team play. It’s just god awful. I want people who want to be better than before and have the talent to do it. Then, back it up with a .500-plus season.

Saint Nick, you hearing me? Singletary?

I want, for once in my young life, to have a team proclaim that off years are no excuses for poor team play and spending less money on available talent.

You got that Maloofs?

I want the guy on my team that says “put it on my back, and I’ll carry us.” Tim Lincecum, are you the man for the job?

I long for a general manager that has a better selling season than book. (Yo Billy, stop acting like Mr. Bean and take care of business.)

I need a new owner and a new coach in Oakland — for the Raiders and the Warriors.
And I need the Sharks to not tank on the cusp of a Stanley Cup. Just when I was getting into watching hockey, it went south. That’s unacceptable. Kind of like when I just got into watching golf, and then Tiger takes the rest of the year off. It’s killing my mojo.

Santa, if for once you can do what you’re supposed to do — bring joy to those that are good — then take heed here. I’ve paid for my fair share of tickets and memorabilia. And I’ve written about some of these teams way too much. Help a fan out that’s two steps away from his tube.

It’s sad that it has come to this, but I knew — for some reason or another — we were at this point. Maybe it was the collective surprise that both the 49ers and Raiders won on the same weekend. Or maybe, it was on Saturday, when the Grant Pacers football team did more for Northern California than the collective Bay Area teams have done in three years by beating Long Beach Poly for the state championship.

Those kids, their parents and the Sacramento region are swelling with pride right now.

I’m so jealous.

You can find this column and more on TheUnion.com.