Journalists are sort of a morbid breed. What many people don’t know is that newspapers usually create obituaries prior to a well-known person’s death. This is so they aren’t caught off-guard should someone pass away unexpectedly or, even worse, close
Journalists are sort of a morbid breed. What many people don’t know is that newspapers usually create obituaries prior to a well-known person’s death. This is so they aren’t caught off-guard should someone pass away unexpectedly or, even worse, close to deadline.
Journalists are sort of a morbid breed.
What many people don’t know is that newspapers usually create obituaries prior to a well-known person’s death. This is so they aren’t caught off-guard should someone pass away unexpectedly or, even worse, close to deadline.
I remember being in one of my journalism classes in college and having to go through one of these exercises. The assignment was to write an obituary of a living person whose death would be a national story.
I chose John Wooden.
The legendary UCLA basketball coach seemed like a natural choice, as he is a beloved figure in the sports community and someone whose passing seemed to be approaching, yet would still be stunning in its reality.
So I put together his life’s accomplishments, learned things I never knew about the man and read what those who knew him best felt he had done to enrich their lives.
By the end of my assigned obituary, I realized that there was something about Wooden that seemed majestic, elegant, even regal. He wasn’t simply one of the greatest basketball coaches of all-time. He was close to a divine figure in the eyes of his players — a man they weren’t afraid of, but were terrified of disappointing. His reach spanned farther than just the hardwood.
“He has a heart, brain and soul that have enabled him to inspire others to reach levels of success and peace of mind that they might never have dreamed possible on their own,” Bill Walton said about Wooden.
In all my years following sports, I’ve never come across an individual so universally revered and respected as Coach Wooden. That profound impact he has had on the lives of seemingly all those to grace his path adds to the mysticism surrounding him, yet he actually never liked the “Wizard of Westwood” nickname bestowed upon him.
“I think of a wizard as being some sort of magician or something, doing something on the sly or something, and I don’t want to be thought of in that way,” Wooden said in 2006.
He was anything but sly. Wooden was so basic in his daily life, so truthful, it almost seemed foreign.
He was able to translate that simplicity in ways that were staggeringly profound, while they really should have been plainly obvious.
“You can’t live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you.”
“Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out.”
“Never mistake activity for achievement.”
“Failure is not fatal, but failure to change might be.”
“Learn as if you were to live forever; live as if you were to die tomorrow.”
Coach Wooden gave so many life lessons and quotes for us to follow, that he will certainly live on past this, his 100th year on earth.
He said a couple years ago, “When I am through learning, then I am through.”
I suppose he had learned just about all he could, now leaving the rest of us with plenty of his teachings to follow.
His passing on Friday made me think back to that college assignment and how a depressing exercise like an obituary actually made me feel uplifted and encouraged to know that one man could have such an impact through such simple words.
I’m certain that the sadness of his absence will be outweighed by the positive memories of those affected by Coach Wooden.
