Coach Russell just died.
And that's a little hard to explain for anyone who's never met him, though anyone who has is likely in tears right now. He was more than just a teacher I liked back from high school. More than just some coach...I had dozens of coaches over the various sports and the different seasons, but he was something different. Outside my immediate family, he was the single greatest person I've ever met, and the one man who most shaped me into everything that I am today. He was a mentor. He was a friend. He was a huge part of my life.
And now he's gone.
It hurts. I found out Tuesday night...well, I heard rumor then, but wasn't sure. Based on the kind of sketchy info (plus every fiber of my being hoping that it were not true), I actually doubted it. But even the mere suggestion that it might have happened kept me up all night last night. And all day today, despite my best efforts to hide it, everyone who came across me told me that I looked miserable and knew that something was wrong.
Coach Russell was a role model. He was a hero. I could only hope to be half the man he was.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to be bothered.
Don't expect to see me for the next few days.