Tag Archives: Coach Wooden

Making Friendship A Fine Art

by Woody

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is available at Amazon (click here), other online retailers, and orderable at all bookshops.

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From Woody’s column archives, October 2020…

My friend Kurt, out of the blue, phoned the other morning for no other reason than to say “hi” and catch up. His timing was perfect as I was in need of a little pick-me-up. By the time he said “ciao” my socks were filled with helium.

After hanging up, my mind drifted to Coach John Wooden—whose birth date, October 14, coincidentally was the previous day—and some lessons on friendship he taught me during the two decades I knew him.

The first time I joined Coach on his daily four-mile morning walk some 30 years ago, he gave me a laminated card featuring his father’s “Seven-Point Creed” that includes “Make friendship a fine art.”

In an effort to be such an artist, the next time I visited Coach I brought along a small gift. Knowing his love of poetry, I selected a hardback collection by Rumi. Shortly thereafter, I received a handwritten thank-you note and a copy of a poem authored by Coach titled “On Friendship”:

“At times when I am feeling low, / I hear from a friend and then

“My worries start to go away / And I am on the mend

“No matter what the doctors say – /And their studies never end

“The best cure of all, when spirits fall, / Is a kind word from a friend”

More prized than the signed poem is that over the ensuing years Coach turned those stanzas into curing words, and deeds, when I was feeling low—particularly after my mom passed away and later when I was nearly killed by a drunk driver.

Coach even had a gift for raising my spirits when they were already high. For example, when I next visited him he recited a poem from the aforementioned Rumi volume. I must confess I did not know who he was quoting until he told me. Fittingly, the selection was titled “Love” which Coach insisted was the most important word in the English language.

The poetry recital was a thoughtful gesture of rare grace, and a lesson through example that saying “thank you” is nice but showing appreciation is far better. In other words, wear a new sweater or earrings the next time you see the person who gave them to you; put a gift vase on proud display before the giver visits; memorize and share a line from a gifted book.

Another life lesson put into practice was how Coach always gave his full attention on the phone and never seemed in a hurry to hang up. Indeed, if he was too busy to talk he would simply not answer in the first place rather than risk the prospect of having to be in a rude rush.

I fondly remember visiting Coach once when the phone rang and he let the call go to his answering machine. It was his way of telling me I was his guest and merited full focus. This unspoken kindness became even more meaningful seconds later after the recording “Beep!” when a very familiar voice could be heard leaving a message.

“That’s Bill Walton!” I said, excitedly. “You’d better answer it!”

Coach Wooden did not reach for the phone, instead telling me with a devilish smile: “Heavens no! Bill calls me all the time. If I pick up he’ll talk my ear off for half an hour and you and I won’t get to visit. I’ll call him back later.”

I am glad I did not have a visitor when Kurt phoned the other day while making friendship a fine art.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.

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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.

Bookend Phone Calls Speak Volumes

by Woody

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is available at Amazon (click here) and orderable at all bookshops.

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Two phone calls, bookends separated by a handful of years, have been on my mind, and in my heart, ever since my birthday two weeks ago—not because it was my birthday, but because May 27 was the deathday of basketball legend Bill Walton. At age 71, insidious cancer did what few defenders on the hardwood ever accomplished when he was young: stop him.

One of the phone calls echoed what myriad tributes to Walton have expressed since his passing, that he truly put into practice the life lessons his college coach and lifelong mentor John Wooden taught him, such as “You can’t live a perfect day until you do something for someone who will never be able to repay you.”

Twenty years past, perhaps a full quarter-century, I was working on a column about the upcoming NCAA Tournament but had been unable to reach Walton for a quote I desperately desired. Turned out the phone number I had was wrong, a single digit off as I recall, probably my error writing it down without heeding the Wooden-ism to “be quick, but don’t hurry.”

With my deadline approaching at the Peregrine falcon-like speed of a 1973 UCLA Bruins’ fastbreak, I phoned Coach Wooden to ask his favor in calling Walton on my behalf and asking Bill to call me. A short moment later my phone rang and it was Walton and here is the remarkable thing: he was, right then, boarding an airplane but in “making friendship a fine art” to Coach he reached out, despite the inconvenience, to give me a rushed interview.

The second phone call also involved Coach Wooden. On this occasion we were sitting in his living room, chatting, during one of my pinch-me-I-can’t-believe-this-is-really-happening visits. Likely, I was prompting him to share basketball stories while he was more interested in steering the conversation back to me and my family, especially the “Little Ones” as he affectionately called my daughter and son.

Then the phone rang and Coach let it go through to the answering machine. The lesson here, for Coach was always teaching, was that I was his guest and thus merited his undivided attention. This unspoken kindness took on greater import seconds after the “Beep!” when a very familiar voice could be heard leaving a message.

“That’s Bill Walton!!!” I said with three exclamation marks of enthusiasm. “You’d better answer it!”

Coach, not moving towards the phone across the room, replied with an impish smile: “Heavens no! Bill calls me all the time. If I pick up he’ll talk my ear off for an hour—and you and I won’t get to visit. No, I’ll talk with Bill later.”

Thus our visit continued uninterrupted, the message delivered being if Coach had picked up and talked to Bill it would have been rude to me. Moreover, answering it would have also been unkind to Bill, whose former bright-red hair and current loquaciousness both suggested he had once kissed the Blarney Stone, because Coach would have had to cut their conversation shorter than usual in order to return his attention to me.

Despite a leaden heart over Walton’s passing, these two phone calls have buoyed me to smile and laugh. One more laugh: When I thanked Coach for his help, telling him about Walton calling me from the airport even though he only had a quick moment, Coach replied in a playful tone, “I wish he’d call me when he’s boarding a plane.”

Far beyond where jetliners soar, I happily imagine Bill Walton is talking Coach Wooden’s ear off right about now.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.

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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.

Students Create Own 7-Point Creeds

by Woody

“I finally read ‘Wooden & Me’!” Matt Demaria, an eighth-grade teacher at Mesa Union School in Somis, emailed me recently regarding my memoir about my life-changing friendship with Coach John Wooden. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

Naturally, I thoroughly enjoyed Matt’s compliment, yet what I liked even more was the rest of his letter with photos included.

For starters, around the classroom Matt has posted quotes to inspire his students and center stage, side by side above the white board, are gems from two of the most important mentors in my life: Wooden and Wayne Bryan, father of Mesa Union’s two most famous alumni, Mike and Bob, the greatest doubles team in tennis history.

Wayne, on chocolate-colored construction paper, offers: “Don’t tell me about your dreams of a castle; show me the stones you laid today.”

And on plum paper, Wooden’s wisdom: “Remember this: the choices you make in life, make you.”

To my great pleasure, Matt holds these two heroes of mine in such high regard that their words are flanked on the left, on tangerine paper, by the great Ralph Waldo Emerson – “Do the thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain” – and on the right, on forest-green paper, by no less than Benjamin Franklin – “Hide not your talents; they for use were made. What’s a sundial in the shade?”

More important than posting a new motivational quotation weekly from writers and poets, artists and actors, sports figures and scientists, Matt displays wisdom from his students.

Specifically, inspired by John Wooden’s 7-Point Creed – “Be true to yourself / Make each day your masterpiece / Help others / Drink deeply from good books / Make friendship a fine art / Build shelter against a rainy day / Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings every day” – Matt had each student create their own seven personal points.

On 3×5 note cards of yellow and blue and pink, and displayed under the headline “Words of Wisdom from Mesa 8th Graders,” here are some assorted examples:

“The best competition I have is against myself to become better.”

“Not everyone deserves a second chance” and “Ask for help.”

“Saying you have no motivation is an excuse to be lazy” and “Quality over Quantity.”

“Having fun is one of the most important foods for your brain.”

“Being yourself is the best person you can be” and “Don’t worry about what others think of you, worry about what you think of yourself.”

“Friendships are like goldfish: they will die off quickly if you don’t give them love and care.”

“Goals won’t be accomplished by wishing” and “You can’t take it easy on the way up.”

And, “You decide how you roll with life’s hills and valleys.”

This final nugget rang true to me the other day when I figuratively stood atop a hill with a gorgeous view of a valley blooming with poison ivy. The hill’s summit was a reader buying five copies of “Wooden and Me” as gifts and asking me to sign them with personalized inscriptions.

As I was doing so, the gift giver mentioned she already had a copy of the book for herself and when I asked if she would like me to sign it as well, she said it was already inscribed. Sheepishly, she confessed it was actually personalized to a different name than hers because she picked it up at a garage sale.

She offered to show me the name, but I decided to roll with life’s valleys and declined on the ego-bruising off chance it was someone I knew!

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Mourning On A Gloomy Morning

by Woody

My favorite Wooden-ism, as I call John Wooden’s maxims, is “Make each day your masterpiece.”

This past Tuesday never had a chance to be a masterpiece. It was a canvas painted with ugly graffiti; a day where the Southern California sunshine seemed gloomy; a masterpiece ruined because Nan Wooden, the late legendary coach’s daughter, passed away in the morning at age 87 of natural causes.

The news squeezed my heart so hard it felt bruised and brought me to tears. Losing a friend is never easy, even one you have never met. Indeed, all the times I visited Coach in his home during our two-decade friendship, Nan never happened to be present.

That is not entirely accurate. Her presence was always felt through photos on display and our conversations.

Coach John Wooden and daughter Nan at at UCLA basketball game.

When my daughter Dallas was born – coincidentally, and sentimentally for Coach, her due date was his and Nell’s wedding anniversary – he shared how over-the-moon he had been when Nan was born and that I was likewise sure to be wrapped around my own little girl’s finger.

Two years later when my son arrived, Coach pointed out that we had both been blessed with “one of each” and in the same order. After that, I always paired Nan with Dallas, his Jim with my Greg, and I think Coach did likewise.

When Coach passed away a decade ago, I sent Nan a condolence card care of her father’s address. In the months, and even years, to follow I wish I had made a greater effort to reach out through others to set up a visit.

Among many things I would have loved to ask her was something I should have asked her “Daddy” as she called him even in her old age: Did he ever put notes with Wooden-ism – Daddy-isms to her! – in her school lunches?

I would have shared with Nan how I had made a daily habit of writing notes such as “Have a great day!” or “Good luck on your spelling test!” or “I miss you lots!” on paper napkins and putting them inside Dallas’s Little Mermaid lunchbox and Greg’s Power Rangers lunchbox.

Then, after I took them to meet her Daddy one unforgettable afternoon when they were 10 and nearly 8, I started adding his pearls of wisdom such as “Be quick, but don’t hurry” (a great reminder before a spelling test) and “Happiness begins where selfishness ends” and “Little things make big things happen” and dozens more.

Coach’s Seven-Point Creed, one line at a time, became a frequent go-to napkin jotting: “Be true to yourself. Make each day your masterpiece. Help others. Drink deeply from good books. Make friendship a fine art. Build shelter against a rainy day. Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings every day.”

We would discuss Wooden-isms at the dinner table and also talked about Coach’s “Pyramid of Success” and his personal definition of success: “Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.”

Today, Dallas is already teaching Wooden-isms to her nearly 3-year-old daughter Maya and Greg frequently texts Wooden’s gems to me! I think Nan would have enjoyed hearing all this.

About losing Nell, Coach wrote to me once: “I no longer have any fear of death as that is my only chance, if He will forgive me of my sins, to be with her again.”

Maybe last Tuesday was a masterpiece day after all, in Heaven, with Coach, Nell and Nan smiling at their reunion.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Notes, Quotes, T-Shirts and Smiles

by Woody

There is a photograph I came across recently I wish you could see. It is of a bus stop in Montreal with an elderly couple seated and waiting for their ride.

Specifically, the wife is looking at her husband with mirth on her face and even though his head is turned away from the camera, I cannot help but imagine he is also smiling with merriment because …

… they are sitting not on a bench, but on side-by-by seats of a giant swing set and have their feet up as they sail to and fro like kindergarteners.

I think the world needs more swing-set bus stops.

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            Also, I think the world needs more of us to display the attitude emblazoned on a T-shirt that basketball legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar created in collaboration with the estate of Bruce Lee to celebrate what would have been the late martial arts movie superstar’s 80th birthday.

In college at UCLA the two were good friends who came into focus quite differently: Kareem stood 7-foot-2 while Bruce was 5-foot-8; Bruce was Asian-American and Kareem is Black. All of which makes the photograph of them clinching hands together in smiling friendship on the T-shirt with this quote from Kareem more powerful:

“Make a friend with someone who doesn’t look like you. . . you might change the world.”

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“Ganbatte” is a Japanese word I came across this week that would make for an empowering motto on a T-shirt.

Translated, “ganbatte” (gan-bare) means “do your best” and is frequently used by cheering crowds during marathons. But “ganbatte” is more than a passing encouragement for good luck – it is an exhortation centered on the idea of hard work and perseverance in the face of adversity.

In other words, “don’t give up.”

Or, to paraphrase Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s coach in college, John Wooden: “Ganbatte (success) is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best of which you are capable.”

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            Far too long to fit on a T-shirt, this unattributed wisdom made me smile – all the more so because my grown daughter and son were both home for the long Memorial Day weekend and brought some laundry with them…

“Come home and bring your laundry. I don’t understand the whole ‘I got them to 18’ method as a parent. Having children is a LIFETIME commitment. Maybe I’m just different, but I want my kids to come take groceries and toilet paper out of my cabinets when they are 25. I want them to stop for dinner when it is their favorite meal at age 34. I want to watch their eyes sparkle when they are opening gifts they wanted for Christmas at 40. I want them to know I’m one call away and it doesn’t stop at age 18. They are forever my kids, not temporary assignments!

And, yes, my wife cooked our 34- and 31-year-olds their favorite meals – a fancy chicken dish and comfort-food mashed potatoes for the girl; cheese-stuffed pasta shells and meatballs for the boy – and we sent them home with groceries.

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On the recent May 25th birth date of Ralph Waldo Emerson I came across this gem of his that should be taught to kindergarteners on playground swings and reminded to senior citizens on bus-stop swings: “You cannot do a kindness too soon because you will never know when it’s too late.”

Similarly, it’s never too soon to do your best – ganbatte! – to make a friend with someone doesn’t look like you.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

It’s In The Cards: ‘You Are Amazing!’

by Woody

In my wallet I carry a small card John Wooden gave me bearing his father’s “Seven-Point Creed”:

“1. Be true to yourself. 2 Help others. 3. Make each day your masterpiece. 4. Drink deeply from good books. 5. Make friendship a fine art. 6. Build shelter against a rainy day. 7. Pray for guidance, count and give thanks for your blessings each day.”

Of less famous heritage, but no less inspirational, I have another business card-sized memento. It is a “You Are Amazing! And So Am I” card and the brainchild of a friend I will call “Josh” to protect his privacy.

The cards Josh hands out are all the more amazing because he oftentimes feels he is the least amazing person on earth. Indeed, Josh, who lives in another state now, has wrestled with many demons, from mental illness to homelessness, which are often two sides of the same coin, and other hardships as well.

Josh also has an enlarged heart – not medically, but figuratively. He has literally given the coat off his back in cold weather to someone he felt had a greater needed for it. With his last twenty bucks, he has been known to buy groceries or a hamburger and fries for hungry strangers.

And he has given out thousands of his “Amazing!” cards in an effort to lift people up when they are feeling down.

In full, the front of the light-blue card reads in various fonts and bright colors: “You Are… Love Happiness Strength Understanding Beauty Respect Compassion Joy Teamwork Peace. Together We Are The Solution.”

The backside further encourages: “Create Kindness. Make Kindness. Become Kindness. You Are Amazing! And So Am I! Thank You For Being You!”

“I believe that the more someone believes they are amazing inside, the more they will project out their amazing-ness,” Josh told me. “So I began telling everyone around me they were amazing or awesome. Then I thought, what better way to remind someone, no matter what they are going through, than a card and – Bam! – the ‘Amazing!’ cards were born.”

A friend of his who worked at a printing company helped Josh design the card and, showing her own Kindness and Amazing-ness, printed up 2,000 cards at a discount price. He quickly needed a second run, and another, and to date has passed out more than 10,000 ‘Amazing!’ cards.

“I purposely have no name on the cards because it isn’t about the giver, it is about whoever is reading it,” Josh noted. “I believe that as they read these words they are flipping their negative perspective to the positive. I think it’s also awesome that there is no religion attached to the cards – just a belief in oneself, each other, and the kindness that links us together.”

In that vein, in addition to the cards Josh has organized some “You Are Amazing! And So Am I!” outings where community members do random acts of kindness such as cleaning the homes of elderly citizens.

“These acts are a way of reminding people there is hope in one another and in believing in ourselves,” Josh says.

Even during times he has lost belief in himself, Josh says he tries to focus on “spreading love and kindness to others.”

“I love seeing people’s reaction to the cards,” he continued. “People are so encouraged. They really do smile and you can see a change in their heart. People would thank me and even ask (before the coronavirus pandemic) for hugs.”

Coming full circle, when it comes to the “Seven-Point Creed” Josh certainly measures up Amazingly!

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

Final Goodbye To Role-Model Friend

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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A Final Goodbye To

Role-Model Friend

What do you say to a friend when you know it is the final goodbye?

I contemplated this heartbreaking question last month when, after three major surgeries and seven years of courageously battling incurable brain cancer, Larry Baratte entered hospice care. He would pass away shortly thereafter, five days shy of 61.

Searching impossibly for words remotely worth sharing at such a time, I kept circling back to the same thought – tell Larry his friendship and role-model-ship in my life have been John Wooden-like. Larry would well know I have no higher praise to offer.

To begin, Coach Wooden believed nothing is more important than “love” and “family.” I cannot imagine a family filled with more love than Larry’s – his dear wife, Beth, and their three adult sons, Chase, Collin and Cole.

Considering this similarity, and weighing what else to say, a new realization became clear: Four coaches have truly impacted my life. Interestingly, not as my sports coaches; rather, they have been life coaches to me.

This personal Mount Rushmore: John Wooden, Laszlo Tabori, Dick Gould and Larry Baratte.

Wooden’s teams won 10 NCAA basketball titles in a 12-year span; Tabori, the third man to break 4 minutes in the mile, coached three state championship junior college track teams, guided two pupils to marathon world records, and trained the distance runners at USC; and Gould, a Ventura native, coached the Stanford men’s tennis team to an astonishing 17 NCAA championships.

Larry measured up fully, coaching the Ventura College men’s and women’s swimming and water polo teams to 27 Western State Conference titles and two state championships.

As I said, however, it is not as athletic coaches that this Fab Four has influenced my life. It is by their example, their friendship, their inspiration.

“Put your guts to it!” Tabori would implore his Trojan runners, including my son. After befriending me, Laszlo preached this mantra in regards to my writing.

Wooden, naturally, instilled in me his 7-Point Creed: “Be true to yourself; Help others; Make each day your masterpiece; Drink deeply from good books; Make friendship a fine art; Build shelter against a rainy day; Pray for guidance and counsel, and give thanks for your blessings every day.”

Gould offers similar nuggets of wisdom, such as “Stress improvement, not perfection”; “Don’t take yourself too seriously, laugh at yourself, and have fun”; and “Be positive, walk tall, smile often, don’t complain or procrastinate.”

Likewise, Larry had his “How To Live” rules:

“Each day is a blessing.

“Give gratitude daily – life truly is a gift.

“Soak-in the beauty around you.

“Have your smile be your ‘resting face.’

“Slow down and be thankful every day!

“Give back to others anytime you have an opportunity!

“Default to KINDNESS – drown out the noise.

“Love deeply with a warm heart.

“Remember: You can get through anything – ANYTHING – with a positive attitude!

“Embrace the beautiful love of great friendships – it’s priceless!”

Larry lived genuinely by his rules. One personal example occurred a handful of years past when he attended a grand function in Los Angeles. After being introduced to John Wooden’s daughter, Nan, Larry did not ask her questions of his own interest. Instead, he thoughtfully made our friendship a fine art by bringing me into the conversation.

Driving home, Larry made my day a masterpiece by phoning to share: “When I mentioned you, Nan lit up and said, ‘Daddy loved Woody.’ ”

It remains a thrill I will never forget.

Larry was a friend I loved and will never forget. I am thankful I was able to tell him so.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Mister Rogers and Mr. Wooden

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Matching bookends:

Mister Rogers and Mr. Wooden

The recent release of the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” starring Tom Hanks, made me wish I had met Mister Rogers.

After a moment’s mild envy I realized, in a manner, I did for I was blessed to know Mister Wooden. Indeed, John Wooden and Fred Rogers were in many ways matching human bookends.

Mister Rogers famously used puppets for teaching.

Both famous men humbly considered themselves teachers at heart; were kind to their core; and felt “love” was the most important word in the English language. Daily, Rogers swam 20 minutes and Wooden walked four miles. Both personally answered every fan letter they received. Both made being “old-fashioned” cool.

While I never visited “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” I dropped by Mister Wooden’s neighborhood in Encino many times. One visit, when I took my two young children to meet Wooden, reminds me especially of Mister Rogers. After all, one of the highlights featured a stuffed animal.

After leading my then-8-year-old son, 10-year-old daughter and me into the living room, the first thing Wooden did was excuse himself to retrieve something off a shelf in his study. One of his ten NCAA national championship trophies? A Coach of the Year or Hall of Fame plaque? Or perhaps he was getting down one of the many humanitarian awards that had him sharing august company with such notables as Mother Teresa, Jimmy Carter, and Melinda Gates?

“Heavens sakes, no!” to borrow one of Wooden’s favorite phrases of exasperation. Instead, the acclaimed “Wizard of Westwood” returned carrying a small, stuffed gorilla about the size of a teddy bear. It was wearing a red vest with a matching bowtie. And the fancy anthropoid could talk.

“You’re a genius!!!” the talking stuffed ape in the fancy red vest said enthusiastically, his words of praise meriting three exclamation marks at the least.

My son and daughter visiting with Coach John Wooden.

“Excellent thinking!!!” it continued.

“You’re brilliant!!!”

“Grrreat idea!!!”

“That’s fabuuulous!!!”

“That’s awesome!!!”

“Outstanding!!!”

My son and daughter laughed, as did I. Wooden smiled at them before giving me a knowing wink. What appeared to be a child’s toy to others, The Greatest Basketball Coach Who Ever Lived saw as a teaching tool.

“This is The Self-Esteem Ape,” Coach explained softly and warmly – in a Mister Rogers-like voice I now realize – as he cradled the stuffed animal given to him by his daughter Nan. “When our self-esteem is a little low, we all need to be picked up a little.”

John Wooden, like Fred Rogers, was a Self-Esteem Wizard.

A photograph of my kids sitting on Coach’s lap reveals how completely comfortable they felt in his company from the start. Both kids have taken a framed print with them to every college dorm room, apartment and house they have lived in since. Indeed, both cite that as one of the most magical days in their lives.

During our two-hour visit, Coach talked to my kids about basketball for about five minutes and spent the rest of the time sharing stories about his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. About Nellie. About his idols Abraham Lincoln (“There is nothing stronger than gentleness”) and Mother Teresa (“If you can’t feed a hundred people, feed just one”). About his famous Pyramid of Success.

And about his father Joshua’s “Two Sets of Threes: Don’t whine. Don’t complain. Don’t make excuses. / Never lie. Never cheat. Never steal.”

Escorting his three visitors outside to the front gate at the conclusion of the rose-petal-pressed-in-a-scrapbook-like afternoon, Coach Wooden added a fourth Never:

“Never forget,” The Wizard of Self-Esteem told my kids, a hand on each of their shoulders, “how special you are.”

Sounds like Mister Rogers, doesn’t it?

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …