Dear Diary, What in the Foxhole?

I’m a sports fan. I love everything about sports. I love the competitiveness between players and fans. I love the atmosphere that stems from rivalries at stadiums and gyms. I love the unexpected moments of grand slams, interceptions, and trick plays. I love tailgate food (pigs in the blankets #1), ball park food (nachos with fake cheese FTW!), and overpriced stadium sodas because they’re in souvenir cups (and yes, I get souvenir cup EVERY time). But one of my absolute favorite things to do was to watch the man I love most, play the sport he loved most, surrounded by the people he loved most.

Baseball was sort of our thing...or it was his thing that I got married into, and learned to love (because football will always be #1 in my heart). Wes started playing baseball at a young age and I have no doubt that his competitive edge was just as apparent then, as it was in college. He played for his high school team and he used to tell me stories of playoff games, bus rides, and practices. You could tell that his high school team and coaches held a special piece in his heart. His teammates were more like brothers, and his coaches more like role models. He carried this same mentality to Newberry, which was great considering he was walking into the closest brotherhood I’ve ever known.

There’s a lot I could say about Wes’s individual baseball career, stats, and awards he received while playing for Newberry, but my most favorite recognition he ever got was when he brought home a ‘Foxhole’ t-shirt. **I apologize in advanced to players and coaches, because I’m going off of the very few details Wes gave me (shocker, I know!) and am putting my own interpretation on the rest…so don’t shoot the messenger if I butcher the purpose behind it.** First, let me clarify what a foxhole actually is (No, it’s not just a hole a fox lives in like I initially thought and became immediately confused by because we were the Newberry Wolves...what does a fox have to do with it?) A foxhole is a military defensive fighting tactic. It’s a small pit dug in the ground that soldiers would position themselves in to easily fire at the enemy. Usually, these foxholes held 2-3 soldiers at a time and once you and your partner were paired together, you were expected to keep each other alive. Can you imagine the level of trust it would take to put your life in the hands of ONLY 1 or 2 other people? This meant that soldiers had to be clear on what each other’s strengths and weaknesses were, and be willing to ‘make up’ for their partners’ weaknesses when confronted in battle. The coolest thing I saw when doing my research was that many times, soldiers assigned in foxholes would be instructed to protect their partner over the asset. It’s incredible to me that during war, such heavy emphasis would be put on protecting your partners’ life over an asset. That’s how much respect and loyalty you had to have for the person/people in your foxhole.

So, as I was saying, Wes came home from practice one day with this camo shirt that had a fox on it and ‘Foxhole’ printed across it in big red letters. When I asked what that was for/meant, he told me a not as detailed interpretation like the one above, and that Coach Trip had the team vote on the top few people they’d want in their foxhole with them. They voted for the teammates they'd want to take to battle; the teammates that they trusted to have their back. Wes was one of the guys who had the most votes and, therefore, received a dope shirt for it. Looking back, that shirt/nomination means way more now than it did then. The fact that he got any votes meant that his teammates trusted him. They trusted that he’d be selfless when need be. It meant they knew he’d give any and everything to fight for them. I'm really proud of him for displaying those qualities on and off the field and I’m happy that his team viewed his character in such high regard. I’m extra thankful that he was a part of a team whose coaches made their players push themselves, mentally and physically, on and off the field.

Truthfully, Newberry College baseball was (and still is) WAY more than a team; it's a brotherhood. Now I know you’re probably thinking, “Sure Ash, that’s what everyone says about any team they play for”, but there’s truly no comprehending the family that you automatically gain from being on this team unless you are a part of it. These guys had each other’s backs, even when they didn’t see eye to eye. These dudes supported each other for the greater good of the team, even if it took away from their individual stats. These guys stuck by each other’s side, win or lose, on or off the field. When you dated one of them, you dated all of them. You automatically signed up for an extra 40+ friends and their significant others. You don’t believe me? Ask how many of those guys reached out to me after Wes’s death. Ask how many cards, visits, and texts I got. Ask how many came to the funeral…from New York, Florida, New Jersey, Georgia, and all over the country. Ask me how honored I felt when current players, who knew Wes only as a coach, reached out to me to tell me the impact Wes had on them. Shit, if it were up to me, I’d need a foxhole about a mile wide to fit all my Newberry College baseball family in, because I'm damn sure not going to war without them. They’re exactly who have been by my side in this difficult war I’ve been facing for the past seven months now. They’re the teammates who I’ve received a text or call from daily since December 20, 2019. They’re the teammates who have sent me flowers and gifts on my birthday, and Valentine’s Day, knowing Wesley wasn’t here to be able to do so. They’re the teammates who still get together to go play golf on the weekend because if they quit doing one of the things Wes loved, they’d hear it from him beyond the grave! They’re the teammates that want to plan vacations with me, and invite me to their children’s birthday parties and family cookouts, and want to celebrate Wes’s life at every occasion with me, and allow me to vent to them when I’m having a shitty week (and what male REALLY wants to listen to a girl talk about her feelings? I'm telling you these guys are golden).

Like, do you even understand what I’m writing here?!? I need you to grasp the fact that a BASEBALL program brought together this amazing group of guys who continue to love and support each other, even after the season has ended and the diploma is passed. Coaches out there, I’m not sure who needs to hear it, but make sure you teach your players how to be good and genuine people. Teach them to build each other up, not just when you are on a losing streak, but when a terrible life tragedy happens. Teach them to encourage each other, not just when they have a bad game, but when life seems like it’s too much to handle. Teach them to cheer each other on, not just after you win the conference playoff game, but when they meet the person of their dreams, land the big job, or get the opportunity to become a parent. Teach them how to be good soldiers, not just in foxholes at the field, but in the foxholes of life.

So, not only is this a shout out to the Newberry College Baseball Program (Hail Scarlet and the Gray!), this is a shout out to the players that I hope will remain in the foxhole with me. Without them, I wouldn’t feel as supported as I do today. I can only hope that I have the opportunity to return the favor and show them exactly how appreciative I am. Here is your reminder to be the person that someone would vote to have beside them in battle. Be the person who has others’ back and is willing to put it all on the line when someone needs it most. Be the person to cheer people on when they’re not only on top, but at the very, very bottom. Be the person willing to make up for others' areas of weakness. Be that person that focuses on protecting someone’s life over an asset.

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For the spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline.

2 Timothy 1:7

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Photographs by Sarah E Photography, LLC