The following is the transcript used to present my Hall of Fame induction speech on November 1, 2014 at the Hilton in Vancouver, Washington.Video Link: Craig Foster HOF Induction Speech
INDUCTION SPEECH TRANSCRIPT
Entering the Hall of Fame is not something you dwell on as a coach. But as you tally some years–I'm entering my 35th–you occasionally allow yourself to dream a little . . . what would it be like? But then you quickly stuff the thought, believing there is no way you belong. So this is a pretty unbelievable moment for me.
I'm honored to enter the Hall
of Fame, especially alongside my friends, Scott Bliss and Chris Wolfe. Scott and I became friends
when he coached at Montana and Wyoming, and I coached at Eastern. I learned some great lessons from Scott, the
most memorable of which was, "As a wrestler, keep it simple. Don't do too much. Don't beat yourself." I have missed Scott.
I knew Chris as a wrestler, then
as a rival when he coached at PLU, and in more recent years as coach for
Steilacoom High School. It was always
nice to see Chris and his team at the Battle at the Border. Chris always brought a smile, and positive
things to say.
• • •
When I moved to Blaine in
1991, I didn't know what I was getting into.
I already had 12 years of coaching experience, but nothing prepared me
for my first several years in Blaine. I
was following a local legend who had coached there for 18 years, and had just
led Blaine to a state title. He was dismissed just prior
to my arrival. The community loved this
coach, and felt he was unfairly terminated.
When I arrived with a
completely different style, many were determined not to accept me as
coach. The controversy in those early
years made it difficult to continue coaching there. I felt like that coach in the movie, Friday
Night Lights. I’m thankful now that I
didn’t give in to the pressure. Despite the turmoil, we had
success in those early years, finishing as state runner-up twice.
But suddenly, around 2002, my program nearly went extinct. NBA player Luke Ridnour grew up and became a star in Blaine, and for many years, every kid in our little town wanted to be a basketball player. Kids would laugh when I asked them to turn out for wrestling.
But suddenly, around 2002, my program nearly went extinct. NBA player Luke Ridnour grew up and became a star in Blaine, and for many years, every kid in our little town wanted to be a basketball player. Kids would laugh when I asked them to turn out for wrestling.
We hit bottom when we had
just 7 wrestlers on the team, and most of them were beginners. I recall lining up for a dual against
powerhouse Mount Baker–and my friend Ron Lepper–with five eligible
wrestlers. It was humbling, and my
detractors had all the ammunition they
needed . . .
needed . . .
Except their ammunition did
little good, because I had protection in the form of a strong athletic director
named Gary Clausen, who believed in me, and stuck with me when it wasn't the
most popular thing to do.
Gary became a close personal
friend over the years, and we made him Godfather of my son, Tanner. Gary is a Hall of Fame baseball coach, and
when Tanner heard I would be inducted into the Hall of Fame, he joked: "My two dads are Hall of
Famers!"
Gary and his wife Carrie made
the long drive down here, and I'd like to introduce them. Thank you both very much, for all of your
support, and for your friendship.
• • •
I’m proud of many things in
my career, but the thing I'm most proud of is making the decision to climb out
of the hole my program was in.
Probably the most important
thing I did was hold a meeting for all wrestlers between 5th and 8th grades. I gave them t-shirts with a secret code: WTF0206, which represented a goal. We kept this plan a secret,
because a team at the bottom of the heap talking about winning state sounds
like hot air, and talk is cheap. These
kids kept our secret for years, never once talking about it to outside
people–even parents.
WTF0206 stood for Worst to
First–worst team in the state in 2002, to first team in the state in 2006. The kids committed to the goal, and worked
hard for years.
We didn't reach our goal of a
state title, and it hurt, but in the bigger picture, that group of kids resurrected
our program. Their commitment literally
saved Blaine wrestling, and laid the foundation that would lead to a state
title this past season. While there are
special kids every single year, as a group–led by the graduates of 2006–they will
always hold a special place in my heart.
Even today, they remain the closest band-of-brothers, of any team I’ve
ever had.
During our climb from the
bottom, the disgruntled folks faded away, and I could finally call the Blaine
program–mine.
• • •
Fast forward to the winter of
2014. We had a balanced team of athletes
with experience, but no dominant superstars, and we weren’t the favorites at
state. We had a great regional
tournament on our home mats, and sent a bunch of guys to Tacoma, but had no one
expected to make the finals. As you
know, quality, not quantity, is what usually wins at state.
Throughout the tourney we
suffered close losses, but also put up enough wins and bonus points to hang in
the race. When the smoke had settled
heading into Saturday night, we had two in the finals, to Forks' 1, and Forks
held a 1.5 point lead. Our first
finalist, Jon Stewart, lost close, and Forks'
finalist also lost. That left our fun-loving
heavyweight, Mikey Antczak, with the hopes of an entire team and town in his
hands.
Rarely have I seen a state meet
come down to the final match of the night.
And Mikey stepped up, wrestling a near-perfect match. I still get chills when I recall the crowd
and his teammates chanting MIKEY-MIKEY-MIKEY during the last 30 seconds of that
match.
Mikey was the headliner, but
it was a total team effort, with many kids contributing wins and bonus points,
and earning eight medals.
For me, it was the thrill of
a lifetime in coaching. Accomplishing a goal like that as a team, and seeing
the tears in the eyes of the kids, and families, and alumni, and fans, is
something I will never forget.
• • •
Along with Chris and Scott,
it feels good to join so many coaches I’ve admired, and friends, in the Hall of
Fame. A few of these include my college
coach, Stan Opp, one of my college wrestlers, Scott Jones, and a good friend
and former teammate, Manny Ybarra.
Stan was the first person I
met in Washington when I arrived. He put
me up at his house, and helped me transition into school and wrestling. He was a slick technician, and has always
remained a loyal friend.
I remember the day I met
Scott Jones, an 18 year old freshman, in the Eastern weight room. We went to the wrestling room the day we met,
and drilled. That was before his
beautiful wife, before all those great children, and before his amazing coaching
career. Back then, Scott was just a
young kid, trying to do good things, and he’s been doing good ever since. I’ve been proud of Scott from that very first
day.
Manny Ybarra and I became
friends during my early days at Eastern, and later I watched as he built a strong
program at his alma mater, Quincy High School.
Manny is the person who nominated me to the Hall of Fame. Thank you for that, Manny.
There are many other friends
and coaches I've admired in the Hall of Fame. It's such an honor to join them all.
• • •
Some of us remember how we
felt as kids on Christmas morning. Or,
we recall the twinkle in our kids’ eyes, and their excited squeals as they
bum-rushed the Christmas tree.
For me, somewhere along the
way, tournament mornings started to feel like Christmas. It’s an excitement that comes from the
anticipation of seeing my wrestlers, bright and early, and hopeful that some
will make a breakthrough that day. It’s
the promise of long, funny, and sometimes stinky drives. It’s the love of
competition. And the joy of seeing
coaching friends again. It’s the guilty
pleasure of eating way too much great food, and hanging out for fourteen hours
with my best friend and assistant coach, Jim Rasar. I guess Christmas comes early when you get to
spend hour-after-hour on a wrestling binge.
There are lots of things I
like to do. Coaching wrestling feels
like what I'm supposed to be doing.
• • •
If you've been in the
wrestling game for a while, you've encountered kids with all kinds of life
stories. For me, I could tell you about
coaching a Naval Academy grad, a commercial pilot, a construction company owner,
an air traffic controller, and on it goes.
But because wrestlers often come from tough circumstances, or make bad
decisions, I can also tell you about coaching drug addicts, and alcoholics, and
prison inmates. Sadly, I can even talk
of wrestlers who’ve passed away, too young.
Despite our efforts as
coaches, some things are out of our control, and life can be unforgiving. The Academy grad and those like him are easy. You just cheer them on, and appreciate ‘em. But I'm drawn to the
challenge of the others, maybe because I was once that kid. I had great parents and a stable home, but
still, I brought issues on myself.
Without getting into dirty details, I will only say that when I found
myself in jail at age 15, it was my high school wrestling coach, Cary Brody,
who bailed me out. And for many years
after, wrestling continued to bail me out of bad decisions and hard times.
At the risk of sounding
dramatic, I can say that wrestling–forever loyal wrestling–was put in my life
for a purpose, and it literally saved me–faithfully sticking with me–always
there to get me back on track. When I
could finally stand on my own, I grew to love and appreciate wrestling for its
influence in my life. Because of that,
using wrestling to help struggling kids feels like my most important
responsibility as a coach. I haven’t
always succeeded, but I will always try.
• • •
Now, I’d like to list a few
of my most influential role models, mentors, and friends. Some you may know, and others you probably
won’t.
Cary Brody, my high school
coach, who tried his best to straighten out a wild kid, and was the first adult
outside my parents who believed in me.
My former teammates and
childhood best friends, Randy Flook, Jeff and Ted Wilton, and Chris Faircloth.
Mike Henry from California,
and later, Oklahoma, who always had my back, who got me my first teaching job,
and showed me what it meant to run a total wrestling program.
Mark Leen from Oklahoma, and
later, Tennessee, who taught me how to believe in my team, and how to get them
to believe in me. He also showed me how
to stand up to your boss when necessary, and how to take bold chances.
Jim Rasar, my wingman during
my time in Blaine. The bad cop, to my
good cop. Every coach needs one.
John Owen from North Idaho
College, who always had time for a young coach.
John was generous with his time and advice, and though I never wrestled
for him, he coached me up more than he knows.
Anders and Per Lars Blomgren,
because who doesn't love them? They are
so much fun to spend a day on the mats with.
Jay Breckenridge, my former
teammate and one of my best friends in wrestling, who showed me there’s a fine
line in stating your opinion, and how to cross that line and keep your job.
Ron Lepper, who just retired
as Mount Baker wrestling coach. I will
miss him. We had over twenty years of
intense competition against each other, and somewhere along the way we
discovered that you could love your fiercest rival.
DJ Duncan, my former wrestler
and loyal assistant coach for the past 5 years.
I love loyalty.
John deWeber, my very good
referee friend. Coaches and referees can
be like cats and dogs, but somehow, through our mutual love for wrestling, we
have become the very best of friends.
John inspires me, because I’ve never seen a man more committed to his
craft, or to the sport.
My wrestling sons, Tyson and
Tanner, who have lived this journey with me for their entire lives. Nothing I can think of is more special than
coaching my own kids in this great sport.
I'd also like to mention my
own parents, who are gone now. During my
high school and college matches, they would sit quietly, high in the stands,
out of the way, and simply enjoy watching me wrestle. I came to count on them being there, and
before every match, I would quietly make eye contact with dad for a
moment. It gave me confidence. He was the strongest, gentlest, most honest
man I've ever known. Mom was a gracious
host, putting my teams up at her home during many road trips, feeding, doting,
and even tucking into bed. Some of the
last wrestling memories I have of my folks are them sitting quietly in the
front row at the Rock tournament on Vashon.
They could no longer climb the bleachers, but still, they couldn't be
kept away. I miss them every day, and I
know they would be proud to sit in the front row, today. Perhaps they are.
Next, I'd like to thank the
girls in my life.
My daughter Chloe is a
die-hard wrestling fan, and whenever I talk about retiring, she will have none
of it. She's been the coach's daughter
for her entire life. I love that my
little girl loves wrestling.
Just like I didn't know what
I was getting into when I came to Blaine, my wife Jeri had no idea what she was
getting when she married a wrestling coach.
She had no experience with the sport before me, and she probably thought
it was just something I did in my spare time.
She soon found out that wrestling not only consumed me, but swallowed up
our life together. She learned that
"normal" holidays would never happen, and that "regular"
life would be put on hold for the better part of every year. Wrestling has dominated my life, and so it
has dominated hers. And Jeri has
accepted it with grace, because she knows how important it is to me. Honey, I appreciate your support over all
these years, more than I can ever say.
Thank you. This honor is as much
yours, as it is mine. I love you.
• • •
If there is any wisdom I can
pass along to other coaches after all these years, here are a few tidbits I
find important.
Being tough is more important
than being slick.
Teaching how to win matches
is different from teaching wrestling skills.
Without a “no-doubt” fitness
level, nothing else matters.
Keep it simple. Doing a few things well is more important
than a big bag of tricks.
And last, relationships are
more important than anything else in a wrestling program. Especially between coaches and wrestlers. When you have trust, and respect, and love
present in those relationships, you can teach them to wrestle. And so much more.
• • •
Finally, I’d like to say to
all wrestling coaches–first year guys–old dogs like me–and everyone in
between: We usually have our game faces
on, and sometimes we battle too hard in competition, but I know what it takes
to coach this great sport, and I respect you all for it.
Thank you very much.
Thank you very much.
