Pops
Ed. note: Every once in a while we like to open to floor to contributors. Actually, the way it works is if someone I know wants to write something and wants to get it out there, they ask me and I post it. It's quite a discerning process. Be that as it may, CSN.com alum and sometime freelancer, John Turner, offered today's post. Under the circumstances we thought it was a really good idea.
by John Turner
On most normal Monday afternoons in January, the gym at Nazareth Academy high school is filled with the sounds of bouncing basketballs, giggling high-school girls and coaches who stress the importance of “valuing the basketball” and giving “a maximum effort.”
January 15, however, was not a normal Monday. Around 1:45 that afternoon, as I was preparing to head to Nazareth, where I am in my first year as JV head coach and varsity assistant, I received the news from our athletic director that assistant coach John Godfrey, father of head coach Greg Godfrey and a man affectionately know to the girls as “Pops,” had taken ill during a racquetball match and had been rushed to the hospital.
Just before making the turn on to Grant Avenue, my cell phone rang and my stomach dropped. Greg’s girlfriend Gerri Lynn, barely able to speak, told me that Pops had passed away. His death is a harrowing loss to our basketball program, school and the human race. He is one of the finest gentlemen I have ever known.
When Greg was hired in May of 2006 to coach the Pandas he went through several different options for who would be his top assistant coach. After much consideration he asked his father if he would be up for the job.
Pops was reluctant. Of course he had to check with his wife Carol and he wasn’t altogether sure that he wanted to put work, fishing and time down in Ocean City on the backburner to be an assistant coach.
After weighing his options, Pops decided to join Greg. From May until his death, his dedication to the team was unparalleled. Joining the coaching staff myself in September, both Greg and Pops welcomed me not only into the Nazareth family, but their own. The three of us have spent countless hours coaching the girls, scouting games and simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk about Eagles football, fishing, and life in general, but nothing brought a smile to Pops’ face as much when we talked about Nazareth basketball and his girls.
Pops was the glue that kept everything together. Most coaches strive to be respected by their players and love is just icing on the cake. The girls felt both for Pops. They would run through a brick wall for him because they knew he would do it for them. After all, he was their Pops.
For me personally, Pops always provided a calming effect. Nervous as a first year coach, all it took was a glance or a word or two from Pops to reassure me that I was doing a good job. After a 0-6 start to the JV season, it was Pops that could always help me see the little improvements that the girls were making every day. After all, success is not always measured in wins and losses and Pops knew this.
Before Pops’ last game on Jan. 6, the girls knew he was going away. He had a fishing trip to Guatemala planned and much to his chagrin was going to miss two Nazareth games.
On the chalkboard before the game he wrote three numbers on the board. The first two represented the number of points he wanted the team to score (60), the second was the maximum number of turnovers he wanted (12), and the third, 14, drew curious stares from each of the girls.
After a few puzzled guesses at what 14 represented, Pops asked “How many girls are in this room?” After the girls realized that there were 14 of them, Pops said, “That’s right. I want to get all 14 of you in the scorebook!” He got his wish as every single girl played and the team cruised to a 46-27 victory over visiting Sacred Heart. From top to bottom, the man never had favorites; he just wanted to be sure that every girl be given an opportunity.
The girls sent him away with a victory and even though he was on vacation, he still called Greg everyday to find out how things were going. He was elated with the team’s Thursday victory over Villa Joseph Marie, another game in which all 14 girls saw action, and took a Saturday loss to Villa Maria in stride as usual.
To the very end, Pops was the consummate coach. Among the possessions he had on him when he died was a piece of paper that said “Keys to beating Gwynedd.” Gwynedd was Nazareth’s scheduled opponent for Tuesday. I told Greg to make sure he didn’t lose that paper, not because it was a sentimental keepsake, but because more likely than not Pops had a strategy that would help us beat Gwynedd.
In his short time at Nazareth, Pops formed a lasting bond with the girls on the team. He loved them and they loved him. While sadness and tears are the order of the day for the Fighting Pandas, I am sure that when they are older they will look back on the time they did get with Pops with fondness and love. I know I already do.
Shortly after his death, Greg told me that someone asked him who would replace Pops on our staff. Greg told them no one. After all, how do you replace a legend?
Besides, Pops isn’t really gone. He’s just watching his girls from a different seat.
e-mail John Turner
by John Turner
On most normal Monday afternoons in January, the gym at Nazareth Academy high school is filled with the sounds of bouncing basketballs, giggling high-school girls and coaches who stress the importance of “valuing the basketball” and giving “a maximum effort.”
January 15, however, was not a normal Monday. Around 1:45 that afternoon, as I was preparing to head to Nazareth, where I am in my first year as JV head coach and varsity assistant, I received the news from our athletic director that assistant coach John Godfrey, father of head coach Greg Godfrey and a man affectionately know to the girls as “Pops,” had taken ill during a racquetball match and had been rushed to the hospital.
Just before making the turn on to Grant Avenue, my cell phone rang and my stomach dropped. Greg’s girlfriend Gerri Lynn, barely able to speak, told me that Pops had passed away. His death is a harrowing loss to our basketball program, school and the human race. He is one of the finest gentlemen I have ever known.
When Greg was hired in May of 2006 to coach the Pandas he went through several different options for who would be his top assistant coach. After much consideration he asked his father if he would be up for the job.
Pops was reluctant. Of course he had to check with his wife Carol and he wasn’t altogether sure that he wanted to put work, fishing and time down in Ocean City on the backburner to be an assistant coach.
After weighing his options, Pops decided to join Greg. From May until his death, his dedication to the team was unparalleled. Joining the coaching staff myself in September, both Greg and Pops welcomed me not only into the Nazareth family, but their own. The three of us have spent countless hours coaching the girls, scouting games and simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk about Eagles football, fishing, and life in general, but nothing brought a smile to Pops’ face as much when we talked about Nazareth basketball and his girls.
Pops was the glue that kept everything together. Most coaches strive to be respected by their players and love is just icing on the cake. The girls felt both for Pops. They would run through a brick wall for him because they knew he would do it for them. After all, he was their Pops.
For me personally, Pops always provided a calming effect. Nervous as a first year coach, all it took was a glance or a word or two from Pops to reassure me that I was doing a good job. After a 0-6 start to the JV season, it was Pops that could always help me see the little improvements that the girls were making every day. After all, success is not always measured in wins and losses and Pops knew this.
Before Pops’ last game on Jan. 6, the girls knew he was going away. He had a fishing trip to Guatemala planned and much to his chagrin was going to miss two Nazareth games.
On the chalkboard before the game he wrote three numbers on the board. The first two represented the number of points he wanted the team to score (60), the second was the maximum number of turnovers he wanted (12), and the third, 14, drew curious stares from each of the girls.
After a few puzzled guesses at what 14 represented, Pops asked “How many girls are in this room?” After the girls realized that there were 14 of them, Pops said, “That’s right. I want to get all 14 of you in the scorebook!” He got his wish as every single girl played and the team cruised to a 46-27 victory over visiting Sacred Heart. From top to bottom, the man never had favorites; he just wanted to be sure that every girl be given an opportunity.
The girls sent him away with a victory and even though he was on vacation, he still called Greg everyday to find out how things were going. He was elated with the team’s Thursday victory over Villa Joseph Marie, another game in which all 14 girls saw action, and took a Saturday loss to Villa Maria in stride as usual.
To the very end, Pops was the consummate coach. Among the possessions he had on him when he died was a piece of paper that said “Keys to beating Gwynedd.” Gwynedd was Nazareth’s scheduled opponent for Tuesday. I told Greg to make sure he didn’t lose that paper, not because it was a sentimental keepsake, but because more likely than not Pops had a strategy that would help us beat Gwynedd.
In his short time at Nazareth, Pops formed a lasting bond with the girls on the team. He loved them and they loved him. While sadness and tears are the order of the day for the Fighting Pandas, I am sure that when they are older they will look back on the time they did get with Pops with fondness and love. I know I already do.
Shortly after his death, Greg told me that someone asked him who would replace Pops on our staff. Greg told them no one. After all, how do you replace a legend?
Besides, Pops isn’t really gone. He’s just watching his girls from a different seat.
e-mail John Turner
posted by Motorboat Jones at 11:00 AM
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