Thanks

The end of March Madness seems like a good time to write about the best basketball player to never play in the NCAA.

In the fall of 1984, Ben Wilson was the top ranked high school prospect in the country.  Although he never signed a letter of intent, some speculate that he would have chosen to attend the University of Illinois.  Considering that he may have played alongside the likes of Nick Anderson and Kendall Gill during their historic 1989 season, such a decision would have most likely affected the fortune of the fighting Illini for years to come.

Tragically, as many of you know, Ben Wilson did not play basketball for the U of I, or for any other college. Ben was shot and killed in the early afternoon of November 20^th, weeks before the start of his senior-year season at Simeon High School. 

Ben Wilson was 17-years old.

Now, this story could serve as a starting point to discuss the brevity of life, or the sporadic nature of violence in our society, or perhaps about the loss of tremendous potential.

All of these are worthy subjects, but instead I want to use this column to address another topic on the minds of many people in spring:  their dirt, or more specifically, the dirt in their gardens. 

Before that, though, some thanks are in order.

First and foremost, I need to thank Grant Wolfe.  Grant is a sophomore in one of my English classes.  He plays a little basketball himself, and in his spare time he wrote a research paper about Ben Wilson.  I used information from his paper to start my own.  Thanks, Grant. 

I also need to thank my wife.  Writing takes solitude, which is a rare commodity for a father of two small children.  However, every couple of weeks, my better half makes sure I have a couple undisturbed hours at home to finish these biweekly tomes.  Thanks.

And, while I’m feeling grateful, I should also thank some of my co-workers.  I work with some exceptional people who often share resources, and without their help, I honestly would not have the time to write anything I would be comfortable sharing and still do my real job.  So, thank you, EHS B-Wingers.  (You know who you are.) 

So, at present count, we have about a half-dozen people who helped write this column.  That way, if you don’t care for it, at least it’s not all my fault.

Returning to dirt, then, those who want to grow something out of it usually know enough to put something back in.  We cannot just take nutrients out of dirt.  In order to grow anything worth eating, we must return something to it, be it in the form of natural or synthetic fertilizers.

This is true in any relationship, whether a marriage, a basketball team, or a rather complicated 21^st century society.  Marriages that try to exist without giving end in divorce; teams that try to function without giving don’t win.  A society that chooses not to put resources back into itself will eventually collapse, or, at the very least, be no longer recognizable.

In our own society, there is a dangerous trend in which those with very large sums of money and resources continue to move further and further away from the rest of us.  That might be fun and all in the short term, but such wanton drift is not sustainable.  A point will come when the garden won’t grow.

In other words, people must give back.  We must all give back, whether it’s a public thank you in a daily newspaper or a pint of blood at a community blood drive, whether it’s a backpack full of food for the weekend or the creation of a job that provides a dignified, living wage.

Although Ben Wilson was only seventeen when he was killed, his larger-than-life legacy is that of a much more seasoned individual.  According to those who knew him most personally, it was not even his athletic ability that made him truly special.  It was his character.

Recalling how people from his neighborhood would gravitate toward Ben after he began to garner national attention, an old friend pointed out that the superstar gave to them exactly what they wanted and needed at the time:  his respect.  “Now this is Ben Wilson. All-American, after the Nike camp, the No. 1 player in the nation at the time, but he listened. He listened to people out of respect.”

Respect.  Time.  Energy.  Soak these down deep into any relationship worth keeping, because, unlike a garden, unlike in sports, our next season is never a guarantee.