By Icy Frantz
Occasionally I am asked the question, “Why did you raise your children in Greenwich?”
The short answer is that both my husband and I grew up here. But I have also been known to say something about Greenwich’s proximity to New York City or the strength of our schools, and I may mention Tod’s Point, beautiful Long Island Sound, or the Mianus River Gorge.
However, I think the real answer has more to do with the people who live here, and the importance of community.
I was reminded of that a few weeks ago…but let me start at the beginning.
In August of 2006, our family was introduced to the Greenwich Youth Football League. Unlike many introductions which progress slowly to the next level of familiarity, this introduction moved quickly to an all-in, all-consuming, inseparable relationship.
One day I was signing up our then ten-year-old son for the league, and the next minute I was completely engrossed with figuring out where in the practice pants to insert the various safety pads and how to get grass stains out of mesh jerseys. And while I was busy figuring out the gear, our son was being swept up by the spirit and camaraderie of the Putman Generals – one of the six neighborhood teams that participate in the GYFL.
As a rookie football mom, the commitment and expectations that came with the spirit and camaraderie seemed over the top at first. There were three to four practices a week, a Sunday game, pep rallies, team dinners, playoffs, and championships. It was a little overwhelming.
But there was also a squad of team moms and dedicated and devoted coaches, who lived for guiding and instructing these boys. They loved football, and their passion was infectious.
Before we knew it, we had fallen easily into this new football routine, our son was happily making new friends, and I was proudly wearing my new Putnam Generals swag: t-shirts, hats, sweatshirts, and shorts, boldly printed in our team colors of red, white and blue. We had thought we were signing up for youth football, but instead we found a home.
September passed into October and then November, and low and behold, our bantam team was in the playoffs. Practices grew increasingly chilly and dark (although not completely, thanks to the generosity of some local firefighters who lit up our fields with the bright headlights of their trucks).
In the end, we won the championship that first year. And there is really nothing greater than watching a group of little boys dressed in their game day uniforms – heavily soiled from a hard competition – celebrate the glory of coming out on top at the end of a long season. And right by their sides were their proud coaches, who had given those boys their all.
But if I am being completely honest, it was really never about the wins. Sure, a win against a rival team felt good – a championship win, even better – but a loss simply meant there was more work to be done.
Our next two sons joined the Generals in subsequent years, and when our daughter was born, she too joined the fans who showed up every Sunday to sip coffee and cheer from the sidelines.
I didn’t know at the start that we would spend almost ten years as part of the Putnam Generals family or that we would purchase and consume thousands of Dunkin’ munchkins during that time.
And I didn’t know how much we would miss it when it was over.
Or that every August, our boys would stop their summer fun to return home from wherever they were for preseason.
That they would sometimes complain about exhausting practices, but in actuality, they were learning the importance of hard work.
That they would support their teammates both on and off the field and develop friendships that would be some of the most meaningful relationships of their lives.
That they would come to understand the definition of teamwork and community.
I didn’t know how lucky we were to have such an incredible group of coaches – coaches who not only pushed and encouraged the boys, but also built their confidence (no matter their God-given talent). No matter if they were seated on the bench or scoring touchdowns. These were coaches who cared deeply about teaching the sport of football but cared even more about developing good people.
I didn’t know that the Generals would leave a permanent mark on our family long after our boys aged out, like the grains of sand discovered in the creases of a pocket long after a vacation at the beach has ended.
So, what does this walk down memory lane have to do with raising our children in a town like Greenwich? Certainly, there are other towns with excellent youth athletic programs.
In Greenwich, we found loving adults willing to share with us the hard job of raising children. We found them in our schools, in art and music classes, in our neighborhood, in the pediatrician’s office and local shops, and we found them in our youth athletic programs – not just on the football field, but on basketball courts, lacrosse fields, and baseball diamonds.
The people with whom our children spend time and build relationships matter. The supportive communities that embrace our children make a difference.
Repeat that – find that – it’s important.
So, for the Frantz family, we found that in a small, neighborhood football team, where bonds developed teammate to teammate, coach to player, parent to parent, family to family.
We were in this together.
Community doesn’t just happen. It takes the commitment and leadership from special individuals, and Greenwich has that in abundance. The Putnam Generals had that in the group of coaches who stepped up to make sure that our children and their teammates learned some of the most important life lessons…oh, and they also played a little football.
September is always about new beginnings and gearing up. All across town teachers are preparing their classrooms, children are trading in their flip-flops for school shoes, calendars are being populated with activities and responsibilities, and, whether we like it or not, the days are getting shorter and the air is getting cooler.
And the Crushers, Mavericks, Gators, Raiders, Bull Dogs – and, of course, the Generals – are taking the fields.
There is magic in community, and in the people who live here; I hope you find that this fall.
Because long after the final touchdown is scored and the last song is played and diplomas are divvied out, you will cherish the feeling of having been a part of something wonderful, and you will be grateful always for the people who made it possible.
And this is why we raised our children in Greenwich.
Once a General, always a General!
RIP Coach Harrington.
