Mr. Shay crosses the
finish line
"I never figured out how someone could run so slowly and still
beat me to the destination point every day in gym class."
By JODY ZARKOS
Express Staff Writer
I saw Mr. Shay at the hospital a few days before he died.
It was a chance meeting. He was sitting in the hallway with his back to
me. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned his head toward me.
"Hi, Mr. Shay. How ya doing?" I said.
A big smile spread over his face.
"Hi, Jody. I’m fine. Good to see you," he replied.
I was gratified he remembered me. I felt a sense of pride that Coach Shay,
the man I respected and revered most as a student at Wood River High School, recalled my
name and face 17 years later.
And now, three days after his death, I feel sad that I did not take the
opportunity to grasp his hand in mine and tell him how much he meant to me.
He was a novelty to me. A wonder. Larger than life with his rugged frame,
clear blue eyes, and bright smile.
But comfortingly and perplexingly human, too.
I never figured out how someone could run so slowly and still beat me to
the destination point every day in gym class.
It was truly a case of the tortoise and the hare.
Finally, during my senior year, I figured out that if I paced myself I
could finish up around the leaders and even in front of Mr. Shay, which to me was no mean
feat.
But he never told me what to do. He let me arrive at the conclusion
myself.
When I did learn a lesson, whether in biology or gym class, he would look
me in the eye and smile that wide, bright smile.
And I knew he was as proud of my accomplishment as I was.
The message I got was: Think. Use your brain. Don’t just get swept
through life. Be a participant.
While he was not a taskmaster, he wasn’t a pushover either.
If you were slacking off in gym and tried to run 19 laps instead of 20, he
might not say anything, but a lack of effort would show up on your report card. He always
wanted your best effort, but he knew and appreciated that a benchmark was different for
everyone.
Through his actions and words he modeled personal responsibility and
integrity.
Self-discipline and physical work were a sure way to happiness and health.
He positively beamed when we dropped "and gave him 50 and 50" (push-ups and
sit-ups).
Bellevue’s Monte Brothwell, who was state cross-country champion
under Shay in 1972 and is still a top-flight runner, remarked this week, "He always
gave 100 percent for the kids. You see Big Brother programs advertised on T.V. He was the
Big Brother of the Wood River Valley."
"Anyone who was in his classes or knew him knows what a big loss this
is. He was not only a fine man and citizen, but a well-rounded sports individualist."
Amen.
To me, Mr. Shay ran the long race. He ran it strong and he ran it well.
It did not matter if he won or lost. Just that he was in it.
