I often think about the people God put around me in my life. I’m obviously not the center of the universe, but sometimes, when I think about all those who have looked out for me throughout my life, it’s hard not to feel like that.
There’s an individual in my life who played a critical role at two of the most important junctures in my life. He was a dear friend, coach, mentor.
What’s so funny is, Coach Gonzalez never actually coached me. Jessie Gonzalez was the athletic director at my high school. Coach Gonzalez got close with most of the teams he looked over as athletic director. The basketball program was no exception.
My senior year at Cimarron we went to a tournament in Hawaii. Coach Gonzalez came on that trip to “watch” us, or chaperone, I guess. On that trip, Coach Gonzalez went from Coach Gonzalez to Gonzo, or just Coach.
Gonzo looked out for me throughout high school. Many don’t know this now, but I needed a lot of looking out for at that time.
I had bonded with Gonzo a bit on the Hawaii trip, but he wasn’t someone I would have considered a close friend or confidant. That is until I really, really needed someone to talk to. Then he was there, at the most difficult time of my life. Somehow, for reasons I won’t understand until I see the bigger picture, Gonzo was the phone call I made. He helped me through some very difficult things. I look forward to speaking to God, and Him showing me how critical that moment was. I look forward to seeing why Gonzo was there at that precise moment, and why God made sure I reached out to him.
We stayed in loose contact as I left high school.
Gonzo had a few of us he took under his wing and looked out for. I felt truly blessed to be “one of his boys.”
After high school, this fascinating thing happened where the roles Gonzo played in my life morphed. He went from 100% mentor to 50% mentor and 50% friend. Gonzo was only 11 years older than me. Not that many years, in the grand scheme.
In 2015 I went to a birthday party in Houston. It was a relative of Gonzo’s and made no sense for me to be there. It was really just an excuse to go to Houston and see Gonzo, who had moved to Michigan, and I hadn’t seen since high school. That trip is so memorable. I’m not going to elaborate any further. During that trip Gonzo stayed a 50% mentor but also became one of my closest friends, a lifelong friend.
The second, extremely critical cross roads in my life- I was trying to return to church. Who did I turn to? Who talked me through a year plus of difficulty, repentance, trials, temptations, questions, doubts, uncertainties? Countless hours were spent on the phone with him. He was going to see me through.
Gonzo isn’t a member of my church. He’s a member of a grander organization. He’s a brother and an angel that was here to look over me and guide me. I’m not sure I’d be an active member of my church today without his guidance. That was the power of Coach. He didn’t need to be a member of my church to help me with something so important. He only needed to listen, love me, help me.
Another moment I’ll never forget, I was only a couple months into trying to return into activity in the Church. Satan was hard at work in those first months. I could go on and on about what he put before me during those months.
One of those temptations was a staycation at my favorite place at the time, Talking Sticks Resort. I was still playing poker. During this weekend that TSR gave me a free suite to stay in, there was a huge summer pool party. My room overlooked the pool, of course.
Imagine me for a moment. Just a couple months into not drinking. Here I am at Talking Stick Resort, in a super nice room, overlooking a pool filled with beautiful people and all my temptations. I was literally in the great and spacious building. I had alcohol in the fridge. For those who don’t know this feeling, I can’t describe the pull. I don’t have words to describe the need to drink alcohol, go to the pool, let myself fully embrace this staycation.
I had worked so hard. I was going to church and making good choices. Surely, I could give myself this one weekend, right?
I was going to drink and join this party. There was really no doubt. As much as I told myself I wouldn’t, I was going to.
I can’t remember if I called him. There’s a chance he called me. I talked to Coach Gonzo. In true Jessie fashion, he didn’t tell me not to drink. He talked me through it. He told me it was a choice I had to make. He reminded me how hard I’d worked to return to church and stop drinking.
Then, almost nonchalantly, as if an afterthought, Coach said the most critical thing. He said, “You can drink and get wild and crazy, but man, after not drinking for as long as you’ve gone, tomorrow is going to suck. That hangover is going to be bad. Hangover aside, how are you going to feel about yourself in the morning?”
That was all I needed to hear.
For those wondering, I did join the pool party. I hung out, walked around. I didn’t embrace the party. I owe Jessie, Coach, Gonzo for that. I may owe him my now 5 years of sobriety.
Jessie Gonzalez left this stage of his coaching journey 6/8/21. He had some new people to coach and mentor, and he couldn’t do that here. I will miss him dearly. I already wonder who I will turn to when I need to be guided through the next trial. Part of me thinks he could move on because he already got me to the point where I can take care of myself. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need him anymore. The greater and more comforting truth is that you always need a mentor and friend like Gonzo, and he’s still there for me, more than ever now.
He was light. And he was joy. Nobody brought together a room like him.
He protected me from harm while here, both physically and spiritually.
I thought of something interesting last night. It hit me that Gonzo likely, just recently, had his life review. It brought me so much joy to think of him getting to see all the good he had done. I considered him getting to see every moment he impacted me and how big a role he played in my life. I thought about the net of goodness and light he spread while he was here.
It brought a smile to my face to know that he got to see his Savior. He was embraced, and loved, and free from the difficulties of this world.
He can coach in purity now, for, a purer heart there never was.
I miss him a lot now. Though I can’t hear his voice or see his face, he’ll continue to be with me, coaching from above. I look forward to the reunion.
I love you Jessie, Coach, Gonzo, and I thank you for all you did for me.
No Coincidences 