This post isn’t about Coach Jim Valvano of NC State University…well, not entirely.
I’m not a sports expert, or even a fan. But if you lived
in the state anytime in the 80s, you knew the name.
Our paths only crossed when he would come into
the radio station to record some of his basketball
programs or interviews during his NC State
seasons, but the title of his book stayed with me
long after his untimely passing. That title was coined
some years before his cancer was discovered, so it should be taken in the light-hearted spirit Coach V usually radiated.
The “lifetime contract” came after he guided the school’s “Cardiac Pack” to what was termed an improbable National Championship, and a tournament finale still being talked about decades later. The “declared me dead” part came later, a result of squabbles over player grade point averages and accusations of players selling game tickets or shoes on the sly. Coach V was eventually cleared, but when the dust finally settled, he was gradually eased out of the school’s sports program.
I’ve been trying to emulate the general good nature Valvano continued to show after that career upheaval, though my own career highs and lows cannot possibly compare to his.
But it’s not lost on me that within the past two years, I’ve found myself recipient of two “Lifetime Achievement” Awards for work in Radio/TV/and Performing Arts.
Minor doings compared to a National Championship, but still pretty heady stuff for a guy who has hidden behind typewriters and microphones and characters most of his life.
Thing is: just about the same time these accolades were bestowed, I began noticing a marked downturn in work, especially in voiceovers – where age isn’t supposed to matter as much.
Yeah, I could blame the Covid madness. I could (and probably should) blame my sorry skills in self-marketing, always the weakest of my talents. Maybe people got wind of the tributes and kind words being bandied about and thought I’d retired…
…or been relegated to the top of the pile of that
muddy cart in Monty Python and the Holy Grail?
(Okay, I can hear the retorts now: “Oh stop being such a baby!”)
Yeah, well, alright. I don’t have any terminal illness (that I know of). And no, I’m not still auditioning scripts calling for 20 and 30 year olds. But I’m still believable voicing an average guy 50+, a Christmas Elf, or a Two Thousand Year Old Spirit in an Enchanted Tree.
Naw, it’s gotta be the Lifetime Achievement Awards. Heck, even the most recent one – which was terrific fun, no arguments there – ghosted me on repeated attempts to get promised video clips all year. They must think I died from the shock, I suppose. Reasonable.
So, given that I’m still just as much in working order as my studio mic set-up, I’ll try and adopt the attitude of the aforementioned Coach Valvano. Even after his diagnosis, which would have shut me down completely, he was still cheerful, still cracking jokes, still sharing encouragement, still accomplishing things for people.
Toward the end of his life, he made this observation.
“To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.”
Not bad for a guy who had his Lifetime Contract declared dead…or had a still-vibrant life canceled by cancer, eh?
I guess I could do worse.
(But just the same…if someone starts talking about another Lifetime Achievement Award for me…I’m gonna have to think about it.)
— over and out —
