E Street Lacrosse

     "Sure. We need somebody to be our waterboy."  That was the texted message I received back from Jared after I had inquired about joining his summer lacrosse team a season ago.  Ten years earlier, when I was Jared's high school JV coach, a similar derogatory comment would have cost him about a thousand windsprints and possibly a choked larynx.  But now, Jared was a recent college All-American and the coach of the Wilbraham Zebras lacrosse team.  I was a 47 year old once-upon-a-time decent player, but now dependent upon a knee brace, ankle tape, and mega-doses of Advil and Icy-Hot just to survive a few shifts per game.  Plus, for the first time in 30 years, I was a rookie.
 
     After 28 seasons of playing summer lax with the Westfield Cranx team, the need for a change in venue and the chance to play with a new group of players became unavoidable.  As great as the Cranx franchise was, and as much as I loved playing with truly awesome guys and many lifelong friends over the years, looking for a new playing experience was something that simply became inevitable.
     It'll be just like what Bruce Springsteen did, I told myself.  Just another little experience about my life I can compare to my hero, I thought...besides the whole rockstar/millionaire/world famous thing, of course.  When Bruce went on the road for the 1993 Lucky Town/Human Touch tour, he did so without the E Street Band.  Instead, a new group of audition-picked musicians took their place; Bruce's need for a fresh approach fueled his decision making:
          "You can get to a place where you start to replay the ritual and nostalgia creeps in" he explained. "I decided it was time to mix it up.  I just had to cut it loose a little bit so I could have something new to bring to the table."

Bruce in concert - 1993

     So there it was, in the words of the greatest musical poet of all time, the final affirmation I was looking for to help make my decision.  Clarence, Stevie, and the rest of the E Street Band understandably felt hurt and resentful over the break up.  In my scenario, leaving behind my team was somewhat less of an impact.  Bruce in his forties (and fifties and sixties) is still as excellent a songwriter, musician, and performer as he was in his twenties.  As a lacrosse player in his forties, my impact on the success of a team is more akin to the impact Drew Bledsoe had on the Patriots' first Super Bowl win--very little.  I also rationalized that even Joe Montana and Michael Jordan ended their playing careers with teams that history and the record books have largely forgotten.  So with my supported rationalizations from Bruce, Joe, and Michael, Jared and the Zebras welcomed me on the team.  And did so not in the role as waterboy, but as something just a baby-step up: third string attackman.
 
     Three Umass and three WNEC alumni in their twenties rounded out the attack position, relegating the guy twice their age to minutes played based on a substantial lead or a depleted roster.  But that was okay with me.  Playing with this new group of guys, many of whom I already knew or had coached at some point, made my leaving the Cranx feel less of an abandonment and more something of evolutionary necessity.  Our three recent Umass stars and high school All-Americans were so good and fun to watch.  They were also a blast to play with.  Kyle's dad I played against for decades.  As a high school kid, Tim was as soft-spoken and polite as he was smart.  The type of kid you'd hope your daughter would date.  Now it was me telling him to please stop talking so much.  And really...is the incessant profanity really necessary?  Conor's dad ("Coach" to me) is an educator and was my college coach back in the '80s,   He built a high school team from scratch 25 years ago and it's become a regular championship program, sending kids off to college with a rock solid educational and athletic foundation.  That Conor couldn't go a single game day without addressing me fifty times or more as "Dude..." shouldn't diminish Coach's successful tutorial record.  I reunited with one of my favorite teammates from a few of those Cranx years.  Zack was the best two-way midfielder I had  ever played with.

     So now I was on a Zebras roster loaded with exceptional talent.  Forget about fitting in and playing a contributing role, I was just hoping not to drown in the shallow end of the talent pool.  As it turned out, playing with these guys actually allowed me to score more than I had in several previous seasons, proving only what I love most about the sport.  That smart and unselfish play is paramount to success.  Oh, and a few All-American teammates doesn't hurt either.
 
     "It only took 29 years" was my response to Jared handing me the championship trophy after we won the league title.  I could keep it, he said.  He had won a few already in his short summer league career, and I'm sure a another piece of hardware would become just another insignificant dust collector on his shelf of awards.  He knew it was a long time coming, and a little more meaningful to me, my waterboy status notwithstanding.

Zebras celebration - 2013

 
      Lots of kudos and great responses came from all over, from old teammates to new teammates.  Long ago teammate Will Pierce from California sent me a barrage of congratulations texts, as did others.  But what probably made winning the championship most awesome was my buddy and longtime Cranx goalie and teammate Matt Hoffman on the sideline that night, cheering me on.  Hoff was great about my leaving behind the Cranx Street Band.  He understood my decision about it, and never held any resentment afterward.  In fact, Hoff made the classiest move a guy could make.  He would not allow the jersey number I had worn my entire career, #9, to be worn by any current Cranx member.  My first championship win in 29 years comes in a distant second compared to how great a gesture that was.

Matt Hoffman

 
     This year, it's the Cranx turn.  After eliminating my Zebra team in the playoffs, the Cranx are playing for the league championship for the first time ever.  And I'll be there cheering like hell for Lippy, Ben, Justin, and the rest.  But mostly for Hoff, this being his last season playing.  When I watch these guys play from the sideline, I won't feel like I did when I saw Bruce play without the E Street Band during that 1993 tour.  I won't feel like something about the make-up of the team is missing.  That's because I'll still feel like I'm vicariously a part of Team Cranx.  As great as winning it all with the Zebras was, it'll probably be as satisfying for me seeing Hoff & company winning the championship this year.  Bruce reunited The E Street Band for their subsequent tour after the 1993 one, and they've continued to live and rock on ever since.  They're here to stay.  And so are the Westfield Cranx.