Good
thoughts are no better than good dreams, unless they are executed.
-
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Make
no little plans; they have no magic to stir men’s blood…Make big plans, aim
high in hope and work.
-
DANIEL BURNHAM
As a
five-year-old boy, besides going to kindergarten, I had nothing to do but play
with my brother, Ricardo, and our GI JOE and Star Wars toys all day. Of course, mom would make us take breaks to
nourish our little bodies with plenty of food and beverages. I like to think of those as the good old
days! Those days were long before
raising a family, working 40+ hours a week and paying what seems to be a
continuous stream of bills. Those were
the days where a child could pretend to be whatever one’s wildest dreams would
allow. Maybe you were a cowboy in the
Wild West, beating up your brother, the Indian.
Perhaps you would take an imaginary trip to the moon and back. If you wanted, you could even pretend to be
in the Army while rolling on the floor with your plastic gun and jumping on or
over the couch. The point is that
nothing limited the dream of this little boy.
At an early age,
I was fascinated with my father and his love for lifting weights. There is something about big muscles that cry
out masculinity to a little boy. To me,
the larger-than-life biceps of my father were the coolest things I had ever
seen. At the age of five, I started
working out with my dad as often as I could.
I was not bench-pressing, power-lifting or dead-lifting, but if I had
been you would have seen my picture in the Guinness Book of World Records for
the youngest power-lifter in the world.
No, I was sticking to the basic exercises like pull-ups, push-ups and
sit-ups. Even at a young age, there was
something about exercising and getting my body to grow that fascinated me. Probably, an important reason for this was
that it gave me more leverage against my brother when we got into altercations
over who would get to shoot the first rubber band at the plastic army soldiers
we set-up in the dining room.
Exercising as a
young child quickly became as routine as brushing my teeth and roughing up my
brother every chance I got. I have to
give my brother a lot of credit. It
could not have been easy having me as the older sibling. I remember always completing his sentences as
a small child and acting as the official baby gibberish interpreter for my
mother. My brother would say something
to the effect of goo-goo ga-ga and I would interpret it as Ricardo says he
wants me to finish off his macaroni and cheese!
A word of advice
to older siblings that are reading this book: Be nice to your younger siblings,
because once you are full grown, there is a good chance that they will be
taller than you and probably able to kick your butt! Now that my brother is over 6’3 and I am
barely pushing 6’3 with my black alligator boots on, which offer some nice
artificial elevation, I am nice to him all the time. Regardless of who is taller or older, the
reason I want to talk about my brother is because he played a key role in the
development of my athletic career. You
cannot have a better supporting cast around you than your own family.
As I grew older
and my body developed, something happened that has carried on to this day. It was the ultimate discovery of a muscle
that others kids and adults wanted to see.
All the pull-ups, push-ups and sit-ups started paying off in big
dividends. I was flexing my biceps for
others just like my dad had flexed his biceps for me. I remember going over my friend Frank’s house
for sleepovers in the 2nd and 3rd grade. As soon as we stepped into the house, he
would say, “Flex your muscles for my mom.”
There is something special about being put on the spot as a little boy
and being able to deliver the goods.
It is funny what
things children pick-up from their parents.
This goes to show how important it is to have a good influence on your
children. Don’t think for a second they
will not notice something like smoking cigarettes or consuming too much
alcohol. Mistakes made raising a child
in the early years can be detrimental to their well-being and have a
long-lasting and damaging effect. I can
honestly say since my son, Mason, was born, I have taken on a new appreciation
of my parents. You start to reflect on
the things you did as a child and wish you could go back in time and behave a
little differently.
You can
definitely say that I was not your average kid.
There was a uniqueness that combined Arnold Swartzenegger’s love for
exercise, Donald Trump’s savvy business skills, and how can I leave out Michael
Jackson’s “Afro” prior to his success with the Thriller album. Yes, that’s right, I said “Afro”. I am ashamed to admit now that I was such a
huge Michael Jackson fan as a child. I
not only had a pretty stellar “Afro,” but leather pants and a glove to
match. If a poster, calendar, button
pin, book or trading card existed that I did not have, it wasn’t long before I
found it.
I remember the
first time I got in trouble at school.
The teacher called my mother at home and told her that I wouldn’t let a
girl look at my Michael Jackson View Master.
When my mother asked me why I wouldn’t let her see it, I told her she
didn’t have the 50 cents that I was charging.
Not only was I getting an education but also earning a little extra for
candy on the side! Did I mention that I
mastered the art of origami at an early age?
For a shiny nickel or dime kids were lining up on the bus to get paper
frogs that hopped, birds that flapped their wings, mouths that talked or even a
paper balloon you could blow up with air.
That’s what I like to call “thinking outside of the box.” I remember earning a quarter once for selling
a bottle cap full of glue with a toothpick to one of my school friends. I think I told him that it was a sailboat.
Every child is
different and unique, and that should be embraced by parents and children
alike. It would be a boring world if
everyone liked doing the same thing and dressed the same way. As the old saying goes, “variety is the spice
of life”. Therefore, to a child his
limitations should only be limited by his imagination and not by the
expectations of others. John Eldredge,
in his book “Wild at Heart” says, “Capes and swords, camouflage, bandannas and
six-shooters - these are the uniforms of boyhood. Little boys yearn to know they are powerful,
they are dangerous, they are someone to be reckoned with.” Think of how different the world would be in
a good way if children of all ages yearned to know those three things.
As every young
child has experienced, being associated with the wrong crowd can turn your
world upside down in a hurry. I remember
a boy in my childhood named Darryl (not real name), who had that very effect on
my life. Darryl had been held back at
least two years by the time he reached 4th grade and was known for
getting into trouble. When we rode the
bus to school, it was not unusual for Darryl to sneak beer onto the back of the
bus and then urinate on the radiator. He
was just the type of kid your parents do not want to be your friend.
I think,
especially for boys, there is some invisible force that has the tendency to
drive us down the wrong road at times even with our better judgment at
hand. As I started to hang out with
Darryl more, my grades started dropping; my attitude toward my parents and
brother quickly changed; and I really was becoming the person that I feared the
most. That person was someone who was
interfering with my dreams and aspirations.
Sure, I was only nine years old, but I knew then that there was
something bigger than myself to be achieved.
It could be within my grasp in the future, if I stayed on the right
road. Of course, at the time, I did not
know what that thing was, but I could feel it with all my heart, which made it
real.
As a child there
comes a point where the only person who can make a decision to rescue you in
the type of situation that I was in is yourself, and not your parents. Sure, my parents were concerned and tried
talking to me about my changes in behavior, but it was ultimately my own
decision that opted to end my friendship with Darryl and pursue my dreams. Parents can only guide and instruct their
children on how to live their lives to their fullest, but it is the child who
has to make the decision as to which road to follow. Making the decision to become a leader and
not a follower that day was definitely a monumental turning point in my life.
THE NEED FOR PHYSICAL CONTACT
When I was in the fourth grade and fully
equipped with guns (that is slang for biceps), which by the way were outlawed
in 48 states, something new caught my eye.
I think it is fair to say that whether you are a young boy or girl,
there is one fun thing to do that is pretty much universal. That one thing is running into stationary or
moving objects as fast as you can and falling down. Football gave me the permission to do that on
a frequent basis.
Just the other
day for my son’s one-year birthday party, I was watching our neighbor’s son
from across the street running down our hill in the backyard. At 28 years old, if I were running down that
hill there would either have to be an emergency in the house, or it was time to
eat dinner, because I’m a real big fan of food.
The little boy simply ran as fast as he could down the hill and just
tumbled on the ground. That is one of
the great things about children, they do not over-think what they are going to
do; they just live for the moment.
It was at a
Catholic school called Annunciation in Cleveland, Ohio, that my football career
began as a young child. I had the
license to tackle other kids my age and instead of getting yelled at, I would
get a pat on the back. I was not the
type of kid that needed to touch the ball and score touchdowns; I was content
keeping things simple. When you are on
the defense, you do not have to worry about any fancy trick plays. You simply find the kid that has the football
and tackle him in a hurry.
During my kindergarten
year at Annunciation there was an older kid in seventh grade who has had a
lasting effect on my life even to this day.
His name was Chris Williams, and he was the best running back that this
little boy had ever seen. There was
something about having Chris as a role model in my life that was electric and
exciting. It felt like I was bigger,
stronger and faster because of it, even though my baby teeth were still coming
in. Chris would take the time to say
“hello” to me and talk to me around his friends. We even went on a field trip to the Cleveland
Zoo, and Chris was my chaperone.
Annunciation only
went to the eighth grade, and Chris received a full scholarship to St. Edwards
Catholic High School on the other side of town.
Although I did not get to see him at school, he kept in touch with me,
and when he was playing high school football, my mom would get tickets so we
could go to his games. I remember
watching one of his games in November of his senior year. He must have rushed for what seemed to be
over 250 yards that night under those Friday night football lights. Besides Chris’s outstanding performance on
the field, this was a memorable game, because that frigid November Cleveland
night was one of the coldest I had experienced.
It was so cold that we used our garbage bags full of shredded paper to
keep our feet warm.
The next thing
that happened was one of the greatest gifts that could have ever been given to
a small child. After St. Edwards
narrowly lost to their rivals, my mother, brother and I walked alongside the
turf football field to catch a glimpse of Chris. Just at that moment, he caught me in the
corner of his eye and waved me over to come onto the football field. I hesitated for a second, wanting to turn
around to see if he was waving at someone else, but to my childish disbelief,
he was calling me over to say “hello.”
Getting to step onto that turf football field that night and stand
amongst those heroic football players meant the world to me!
Chris is an
example of the real role models our society is longing to rediscover. We need role models who are unselfish and
willing to do something as small as speaking to a child and offering a friendly
word of encouragement. Those acts of
kindness started me well on my way to becoming a better person, as well as a
better football player. I will always be
grateful to Chris Williams for opening my eyes to football and for his kind
heart toward a small child. I remember
the night that Chris was on the ten o’clock news and signed his letter of
intent to attend NC State University and receive a full scholarship to play
football for the Wolfpack. Even as a
small child, I knew that was a goal that I was more than willing to
pursue.
I truly believe
that the good Lord has made all of us different and unique. As small children, we are drawn to different
types of athletic activities. For one
boy, it might be playing basketball with his friends, while another enjoys the
thrill of tee ball. A small girl might
grow up with a love for volleyball, while her sister excels at softball. I feel truly blessed that as I started
football and enjoyed the sport as a child, my parents were always there to
encourage and provide for me. There are
fewer things more tragic than a child who has to grow up in an abusive home or
in a poverty-stricken family. It is hard
enough for a child to simply try to fit in at school, get good grades, excel at
sports, play an instrument or have to kiss Aunt Jewel on the cheek every time she
is at a family gathering.
Football was an
excellent outlet to dispense my energy.
The great thing about it was I did not care who won or lost the
game. I was just happy to be part of a
team and of course, get to tackle the opponent.
One unforeseeable benefit to many outside the arena of this great sport
was getting the opportunity to get scabs!
This might seem strange to the reader, but nothing goes better with
muscles than a cool looking scar, regardless of how small. A scab to a child or even to this 28-year-old
writer is a delightful and irresistible thing to pick.
One of the things
about the 21st century that I think is a shame is the number of
children whose parents have them on tranquilizing drugs because they supposedly
have too much energy. I am not saying
that there are not children who have serious medical problems that need to be
medically treated; however, I wonder if fewer children would need these drugs
if their parents would get them away from the television and outside to play. Yes, I think this has gone on long enough and
someone needs to stop pointing fingers at the children and start pointing them
at the parents. In Lionel Tigers’ book
“The Decline of Males”, he says,
At least three to
four times as many boys than girls are essentially defined as ill because their
preferred patterns of play don’t fit easily into the structure of the
school. Well-meaning psycho-managers
then prescribe tranquilizing drugs for ADD, such as Ritalin...The situation is
scandalous. The use of drugs so
disproportionately among boys betrays the failure of school authorities to
understand sex differences...The disease these boys may have is being
male.
Even though this
author seems to be blaming the school system for the increase in Ritalin use,
the parents are the one’s authorizing the use of such medication. Let’s face it; raising a child in our society
is a huge responsibility. More parents
have to step up to the plate and stop letting societal influences (such as
television programs, vulgar music and graphic video games) raise their
children. The movie “The Cable Guy,”
starring Jim Carrey, is an excellent example of how many children are being
raised this way in the United States.
Jim Carrey’s character is shown as a child sitting in front of the
television for countless hours’ everyday while his parents give him no
attention. This leads to the character
growing up without any friends and contributes to a long list of violations
with the law, not to mention a fixation for illegally installing cable to make
friends.
In a recent
article in Parade magazine called “We Need to Pay More Attention to Boys”, the
First Lady, Laura Bush, has chosen to spend the next four years in the White
House to encourage and find better ways for parents/coaches/role models to be
mentors for boys. What better way for a
student athlete to have a positive effect on our society. She is quoted in the article as saying,
I think we need
to pay more attention to boys. I think
we’ve paid a lot of attention to girls for the last 30 years, and we have this
idea in the United States that boys can take care of themselves. We’ve raised them to be totally self-reliant,
starting really too early. They need the
nurturing that all humans need. And I
think there are a lot of life skills that we teach girls but don’t teach
boys. We actually have neglected boys.
The article goes
on to talk about how boys’ attendance rates in college have declined in
comparison to girls and how they are the ones causing trouble, dropping out of
school and getting involved with drugs and alcohol. She feels there are a great deal of families
that are staying focused on teaching good values, but states, “I’m not so sure
our big national media is a partner in it.”
The First Lady then adds, “People have the power. They have the television knob. They can turn it off.” This last part is something I think all
parents need to be more mindful of regarding their children. She says, “In some ways, I think today we
have to protect our children from society, rather than raise children to fit
into society. We should want them to not
be exactly like everything they see on TV or in the movies or listen to in
music.”
Fortunately, for
my brother and me, our parents were in the construction business and not
members of the demolition crew. Their
encouraging words were fuel for the fire that burned inside this little boy’s
heart to be the best I could be at football.
It is funny and reminiscent reflecting back as a child and remembering
my first couple years of football. One thing
that will always be fresh in my mind was when I had to undergo my first
surgery. No, I didn’t break an arm or
leg playing football but I did have to get my tonsils removed. When I first started playing football, my
tonsils would swell up to the size of golf balls in the back of my throat,
making it hard to get any air into my oxygen-depleted lungs.
There are three
undeniably cool things about getting this surgery as a child. The first is that you can only eat Popsicles
for the first couple of days, which is like a free ticket to Sugar Town. Secondly, I got to relax away from school and
watch nothing but movies. Thirdly and
most importantly, the doctor was kind enough to let me keep my tonsils in a jar
full of formaldehyde. This proved to be
a big hit with the kids at school during “Show and Tell” time. I’m not quite sure if modern medicine would
allow bringing home tonsils today, but there was definitely a sense of
accomplishment getting to bring home that prize after surgery. There was definitely a high gross factor, but
to a kid, that is what made it so special.
Just so you know, I didn’t charge anyone to see my tonsils; however,
looking back, that would have been a great idea.
CORNFIELDS, COWS AND OPEN LAND
It was in the middle of the sixth grade that my
parents made the decision to leave the Cleveland area and move out to the
country in Medina, OH. A main reason for
this was because of the condition of the Cleveland public schools at the time
and my parents’ fear that my brother and I would have to go to different high
schools. This proved to be a wise
move. There was a deep longing for two
brothers to breathe in and embrace everything the country life had to offer.
The dream of
every little boy is to have unlimited space for roaming and playing, and that
is just what two and a half acres in the country had to offer. Right next door was a half-acre pond that was
stocked with bass. If you combined that
with our property sitting right next to a wooded area, you had the next best
thing to Disney World. One of the first
things I did was to build a two-story tree house where my brother and I could
set up our fort. The country life proved
to be all it promised. We had chickens, ducks, rabbits, a dog and what must
have been a dozen cats from a recent litter.
By the time I
reached the age of thirteen, I started lifting free weights, and that is when
my body really started growing. My
brother started to exercise with me at times.
With nothing but a full garage of weight equipment, there was no excuse
for not working out on a frequent basis.
I often had friends come over and showed them how to do different
exercises.
The transition to
a different school was fortunately easy for us due to the country
lifestyle. In the township where we
lived (Lafayette), instead of worrying about getting your house robbed, one was
more likely to
ask, “Is my house
going to get toilet-papered?” or “Is someone going to go cow-tipping again with
farmer John’s cows?”
It is funny how
kids have different nicknames growing up in school. Luckily, for me, the hit TV show “Saved by
the Bell” was very popular at the time.
Thanks to that show, my fellow classmates gave me the nickname of AC Slater. It helped that I had that Puerto Rican olive
skin, muscular arms, curly black hair and a few dimples like AC when I
smiled. Your identity and charm as a
child growing up should be embraced. Let
me be clear when I say there is no such thing as an average boy or girl but
instead, every child is extraordinary.
Thankfully, the “Afro” was long gone by the time I reached the eighth
grade. Otherwise, I could have been
called JJ from “Goodtimes.”
The eight grade
at Cloverleaf Junior High was an experimental time for me with sports. Not only did I play football in the fall, but
I wrestled in the winter and tried track and field during the spring. It is important for young student athletes to
try their hand at multiple sports to see which ones really ignite their desire
to be competitive. Wrestling was a good
experience for me. It is a game of
balance and strength, and when all is said and done after a match, you and you
alone are to be held accountable for your success or failure. That year at the 132-lb weight class, I
racked up a record of 13 wins and 2 losses.
I still remember those yellow and white safety pins that I attached to
my jean jacket every time I pinned an opponent.
Those pins on my jacket served as a sense of accomplishment to this
young student of the game.
My Grandpa Viera
was an avid fan of wrestling when I was in the eighth grade, but a different
kind of wrestling. He was an old school
fan of Hulk Hogan, Big John Stud, Andre the Giant and the legendary Jimmy “The
Super Fly” Snooka. When we used to go to
his house to visit and whenever I told him I was wrestling, he had this crazy
idea that I meant “professional” wrestling.
My Grandpa was from Puerto Rico and although his English was limited, I
tried to explain to him the difference between the two. After many unsuccessful attempts, I figured
if he wanted to think I was a professional wrestler in the eighth grade, then
“no harm no foul.”
Track and Field
did not really catch much of my attention.
Sure, I tried doing the shot put, discus throw and running different
events on the track, but these activities just did not offer the same kind of
thrill as football. Running at someone
full speed and leaping on them like an African Lion pouncing on its prey in the
Safari was a sport that could not be matched by any other! I decided then that I would only pursue football
and train year round to develop my potential in order to take a step closer to
achieving what my friend, Chris Williams, had accomplished. The goal was a full paid scholarship to a
Division I football program.
By the time I
reached the ninth grade I was tipping the scales at about 145 lbs. I looked at my body as a mold of clay that
could be sculpted and built into something great like the former bodybuilder
Arnold Swartzenegger. Freshman year in
high school was also when grades started to count towards my GPA. That was something I took very seriously and
made every effort to excel in all of my classes, in addition to excelling on
the football field. Through hard work
and dedication to my studies I finished the year with above a 3.9 GPA. In addition, I already had caught the eye of
the head football coach at Cloverleaf High School through my aggressive style
of play at the linebacker position. I
had also been named most valuable defensive player for the team.
There are some
things in life that are not going to be the most enjoyable things to do, but
they are necessary. Doing the right
thing among some circles of friends might not be viewed as popular. Sure, I knew kids who did not take school
seriously and did what they had to do to get by. My perspective in life has always been if you
are going to do something halfway, there is no point even starting it. Let’s face it: There are countless things
that are more enjoyable than studying for upcoming tests, consistently
attending classes and paying attention through taking notes in class. But if you want to be successful in life,
these things are necessary. When you see
the big picture that your teachers and parents are trying to communicate to
you, it is easier to focus your energy in the right areas of your life, because
you know the potential outcome of all your hard work.
THE ULTIMATE LIP SYNCH CONTEST
The last thing I want to do is give the
impression that during my freshman year of high school I did not have any
fun. One fun, memorable and defining
moment in the ninth grade that lived with me throughout my high school
experience was a lip synch contest I entered during our ninth grade dance. Back in the early 90’s there was a new song
that was quickly rising up the charts. I
knew from the first time I heard it that this song had it all. It was cool, hip and half of the song was in
Spanish, which gave it an exotic flare.
Most importantly, it was a big hit with the ladies. That song was called “Rico Suave”. I remember watching the video for the song,
and something inside me just screamed out that I had to do this song for the
lip synch contest. For the next month
leading up to the contest, I memorized “Rico Suave”, assembled the finest crew
of air guitarists that Cloverleaf Junior High had to offer, recruited two young
ladies as dancers, choreographed dance moves and of course, arranged for the
costumes.
One reason this
song motivated me is because it embraced my father’s culture and part of who I
am. Back on January 24, 1954, my father,
Leonardo Leo Viera was born in a small town in Puerto Rico called
Quebradillas. He was one of six children
born to John and Pilar Viera. At a very
young age, my father’s family moved to Cleveland, Ohio, due to my Grandpa Viera
winning the state lottery. He moved his
entire family, so he could work in a steel factory with a friend of the
family. If this course of events had
never taken place, I would not be writing this book today. I have always embraced being Puerto Rican,
and this song for me was a way to show others a part of my ethnicity that they
had never seen.
I can still
remember getting ready behind stage to face the seventh, eighth and ninth grade
crowd for the lip synch contest. Sure,
there were butterflies in this fifteen-year-old’s stomach, but there was also
an excitement and thrill of the unknown that urged me to move forward. My three air guitarists had real guitars that
they were going to pretend to play. The
two dancers had matching outfits, and were ready to dance by my side. I was dressed for the part on that cool
country spring night. There was a
bandana around my head, a fake earring on my left ear, an unzipped brown
leather jacket that covered my shoulders, back and arms, but couldn’t hide my
newly discovered abs and chest that were covered with a light layer of baby
oil. Throw in a tight fitting pair of
jeans and black cowboy boots, and there was a real live Spanish cowboy getting
ready to rock the crowd.
The moment I
stepped onto the stage to lip synch “Rico Suave”, the gymnasium air was filled
with screams of approval. The music
started, and I began to lip synch and dance like I had never danced
before. My three air guitarists were
moving to the music and playing air guitars like they were members of a rock
band; the two dancers were dancing to the rhythm of Spanish music; and I was
working the crowd beyond what I ever could have imagined. Every time I pulled down my brown leather
jacket a little bit, the screams and shrieks from the crowd would only grow
louder. Once the song was complete and
the performance had ended, I knew that this was a moment in my life that I
would never forget.
That night our
group placed second in the contest behind three ninth grade boys who dressed up
as women and sang Aretha Franklin’s “R-E-S-P-E-C-T.” Although the crowd favorite that night was
“Rico Suave”, the teachers were the judges and not the students. It was bitter defeat for this
fifteen-year-old boy, but I was proud of taking the bold step forward to do
something different in my life. That
night there was certainly a risk of not being accepted by the crowd and also
the uncertainty of whether my group’s performance would be successful or a
complete failure in the eyes of the judges.
However, those were risks I was willing to take. You see, a leader is someone who is willing
to take a risk to reap a greater reward.
I was quickly becoming a leader instead of a follower and got to embrace
my Puerto Rican ethnicity in the process.
Up to the year I graduated from Cloverleaf High School, friends and even
students I didn’t know would come up to me and say, “Remember when you did
“Rico Suave” in the ninth grade lip synch contest?” I would just smile and say, “I sure do.”
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1) What dreams and aspirations did you have as a
young child? Have they changed? If so, why?
2) Do you consider your dreams limited by
your imagination or by the expectation of others?
3) Have you ever got involved with the
wrong crowd that influenced your behavior in a negative manner? What
steps, if any, did you take to remove yourself from this negative
influence? If your best friend stepped into an elevator with you and
pressed the button, would you describe your relationship as one that is helping
you grow closer to God or pulling you farther away?
4) Did you have a role model growing up
that impacted you in a positive way? Do you think having a positive role
model is important?
5) What sports or hobbies did you excel at
in school? What were the defining factors that drew you to these
activities?
6) Do you believe that every child is
extraordinary? Did you embrace your identity and charm growing up?
7) Is the concept of "delayed
gratification" something you apply to your life? If so, why do you
think it is important?
8) Have you ever taken a
risk to reap a greater reward? Do you have a similar story to share of
taking a bold step forward like "The Ultimate Lip Synch
Contest"? Have some fun with this question : )
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