Wooden Made Friendship a Fine Art
Monday – October 14 – would have been John Wooden’s 103rd birthday. Below, excerpted from my new memoir Wooden & Me: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” (signed copies available at WoodyWoodburn.com and unsigned paperbacks at Amazon.com), is an example of how he walked his talk.
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The next time I joined Coach John Wooden for a brisk morning walk, I did something I embarrassingly neglected to do in all my excitement the first time: I brought a gift of thanks for his hospitality.
Coach with two very happy young visitors in his home: my son Greg and daughter Dallas.
Coach thanked me for the book while insisting a gift was completely unnecessary. Shortly thereafter I received a handwritten thank-you note; included within was a postcard-sized printed poem authored by Wooden 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 would turn the words into deed when my spirits fell – particularly when my mom passed away in 1992 and when I was severely injured by a speeding drunk driver in 2003.
Even when my spirits were already high, Coach had a gift for raising them further. For example, when I next visited him he recited a poem from the Rumi volume I had given him. I must confess I did not know whom Coach was quoting until he told me. It was not surprising, however, that his selection was titled “Love” since Coach always insisted it was the most important word in the English language.
What a thoughtful and eloquent gesture, what rare grace. It was a simple reminder that saying “thank you” is nice, but to show thanks is far better. Write a note of thanks, certainly, but also wear a new sweater or necklace the next time you see the person who gave it to you; put a gift vase on proud display before the giver visits; memorize a poem or line from a book given to you. Time and again in ways big and small, Coach put into practice the fifth rule printed on his father’s seven-point creed: “Make friendship a fine art.”
One of Coach’s many exceptional qualities was how he made people feel special by giving each individual he was interacting with his undivided attention. For example, he was perhaps the slowest, and the most gracious, autograph-signer in history because he made a conscious effort to engage each fan in a brief conversation.
Similarly, 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 the phone in the first place rather than risk the prospect of having to be in a rude rush.
I fondly remember visiting Coach when the phone rang and he let the call go through to his answering machine. The message conveyed was that I was his guest and thus merited his complete focus. This unspoken kindness became even greater seconds later after the “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 did not move towards the phone and instead replied 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 then you and I won’t get to visit. I’ll talk with him later.”
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for the Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. WOODEN & ME is available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com and Amazon.com.