It’s a late Friday afternoon, and we’ve just pulled into one of those designer gas stations—our usual stop during another weekend trip. As a college coach, I was constantly on the road, traveling nearly every weekend of the year. Fatigue is a familiar companion, and caffeine has become my crutch. I’ve developed a near-expert knowledge of energy drinks, knowing every brand, every flavor. Today, I’ve got two cans of my favorite energy drinks, along with a stash of sour cherry gummies and other sugary treats—my quick fix to keep me going. It’s almost become a ritual. My athletes, trailing behind me, are picking up their own snacks, and we often bond over these stops. Caffeine and candy had turned into conversation points—we’d share our favorite drinks and snacks with each other, swapping stories and taste tests like it was all part of the fun.
But as innocent as it seemed, there was something else simmering underneath. Those cans of caffeine and handfuls of gummies were more than just snacks—they had become a coping mechanism. What looked like harmless indulgence was masking something deeper: an unhealthy reliance that reflected my own struggles with fatigue, stress, and the constant pressure to keep going. What I didn’t realize at the time was that these small habits, these little rituals, were quietly becoming a problem, both for me and for the example I was setting for my athletes.
Sugary Slippery Slope
Addiction runs in my family—alcoholism, sugar addiction, even behavioral addictions like codependency. It’s something I’ve become increasingly aware of as I’ve gotten older. Yet, here I am, standing in front of my team, grabbing enough sugar to make the Dominican Republic take notice and enough caffeine to shoot laser beams out of my eyes. What seemed harmless—a quick stop to refuel and pick up snacks—was becoming a routine I hadn’t questioned. Over time, I began to notice how often our trips would run through these designer gas stations, which just happened to stock my favorite energy drinks and gummies. I never thought about it as a problem until I realized this wasn’t just about the snacks; this was about my own failure to exhibit self-control. And I wasn’t the only one affected. Whether healthy or unhealthy, habits are contagious, and I could see that my athletes were picking up on mine. I started to ask myself: if I’m not in control of these little things, what kind of example am I setting?
With Caffeine Comes Clarity (and a crash)
That revelation hit me hard, and it wasn’t just my own reflection—it was sparked by a piece of ancient wisdom from Proverbs 20:1: “Wine is a mocker, strong drink a brawler, and whoever is led astray by it is not wise.” I remember coming across this verse and pausing. Now, I’ve never struggled with alcohol—I made the choice early on to avoid it because of my family’s history with addiction. But this verse isn’t just about alcohol; it’s about the broader concept of indulgence and the consequences of letting it control you. The word “mocker” refers to something that deceives you, something that leads you into foolishness, making you think it’s harmless when in fact it’s working against you. “Brawler” suggests chaos, conflict—it’s not just about the substance, but what it does to your life. And that word “astray”—it struck me deeply. To be led astray means to be guided off the path, to lose your way. Whether it’s sugar, caffeine, or something else, I realized that I had let these small indulgences pull me off track. I wasn’t setting the best example for my athletes, who look up to me not only as their coach but as someone they expect to model discipline and self-control. Just like the students in my classroom, they’re always watching, and I needed to be more mindful of the message my actions were sending.
Beneath the Surface: The Soda Fountain of Self-Awareness
But it’s not just about sugar and caffeine. As I reflected more deeply on my habits, I started to realize there’s something bigger going on beneath the surface. Proverbs 20:5 says, “The purpose in a man's heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out.” When I first read this, I didn’t immediately grasp the full depth of what it was saying. The phrase “deep water” refers to something hidden, something profound and not easily seen. Just as deep water lies beneath the surface, there are often motives, emotions, and struggles that we bury beneath our daily routines. To "draw it out" means to bring those hidden things to light—to reflect deeply and understand what’s really going on inside.
At first, I thought my energy drink habit was just about needing a quick boost or enjoying the flavors, but I realized there’s more to it. What was I avoiding? What was driving me to reach for that can of caffeine or that bag of sugary snacks? The more I thought about it, the clearer it became: I wasn’t just seeking energy—I was trying to drown out stress and exhaustion, trying to cope with the never-ending demands of being a coach, a leader, and a role model. I began to see that my habits weren’t just physical cravings; they were tied to deeper emotional and psychological needs that I hadn’t addressed. The more I drew out these insights, the more I understood that my role as a leader requires more than just showing up on time or delivering results—it requires deep self-awareness. I had to face the truth: my behaviors, however small they seemed, were a reflection of unresolved stress and a lack of self-discipline, and it was affecting not just me, but my athletes as well.
Consistency Counts: Legacy Over Perfection
Despite these personal struggles, I’ve always prided myself on being dependable in other areas. Proverbs 20:7 says, “The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!” I’m not writing this to throw myself a pity party. In fact, I’ve had some real successes, and those successes were often built on simple but powerful principles: hard work, being responsible, showing up on time, doing what I said I would do, and following through on promises. That’s how I’ve approached my role as a coach. Even when I’ve been wrestling with my own challenges, I want my athletes to see that consistency and reliability matter in the long run. When the proverb says, "blessed are his children after him," I see this in the context of coaching as a legacy you leave behind. It means that the habits, behaviors, and standards you model for your athletes will shape how they act—not just during their time with you, but long after they leave your team. What you build today, they carry with them tomorrow. It’s about leaving a lasting impact, one that goes beyond wins and losses and speaks to the kind of people they become.
One Sip at a Time
As I’ve spent more time reflecting on my role as a leader, I’ve come to understand that leadership is about more than just setting the right example in public—it’s about confronting the private battles that no one else sees. Proverbs 20:24 says, 'A man’s steps are from the Lord; how then can man understand his way?' At first, I didn’t fully grasp the meaning of this, but over time it began to make sense. The proverb highlights the mystery of life—how we don’t always understand the paths we take or why we struggle with certain habits. I used to think my addictive tendencies were just quirks of my personality, but as I became more introspective, I realized these patterns were deeper, rooted in both my family history and my personal choices. I may not have all the answers, but I’ve learned that if I’m not careful, these habits can control me. The key is to stay disciplined, even in the small things, because that discipline is what keeps me grounded and on the right path, both for myself and for those who look up to me.
Sharing Sweets and Struggles
Toward the end of my coaching career, and especially now as I write, I’ve come to realize the importance of sharing my struggles with the people who’ve allowed me to have influence in their lives. I’ve been very honest with my athletes about my challenges with addiction—whether it’s caffeine, sugar, or emotional neediness. I remind them that it’s not just athletes who need to be accountable, but also leaders. Accountability isn’t just about the big moments, like getting ready for championship events; it’s about the small moments, too—like when we stop at a gas station during a road trip. I’ve never been afraid to admit that I have weaknesses. In fact, what I’m most proud of is my commitment to working on them. That’s what real discipline is about. That’s the story I want to tell—the story of continually striving to be better, even when no one is watching.
Caffeine, Candy, and Commitment
At the end of the day, Proverbs 20 has taught me that leadership is a journey. It’s about making consistent, disciplined choices, even when it’s hard. Whether I’m standing in front of my team at practice or picking out snacks at a gas station, I know my actions have an impact. And as I work through my own addictive tendencies, I’m learning that the key to being a good leader is not about being perfect—it’s about being accountable. But I will say this: if you’re ever driving through the southern part of the United States, Buc-ee’s has the absolute best sour cherries. Just don’t eat the whole bag—people might be watching.