One of my earliest memories of a coach was back in middle school. It was that small East Texas town where I met the man that seemed larger than life. If I remember him correctly, he was a little overweight (I am being kind), he wore nylon coaches shorts, chewed tobacco all of the time (his lip and chin were stained due to the tobacco juice that dripped from his mouth.) and had a way of instilling fear in young boys who wanted to play on the JV Football team. When I think of him now, I think that we followed his rules more out of fear than a desire to be better at football. Looking back at my interaction with this coach, I…