Dear Blog,

"Get out of your comfort zone!"

Thus spake Mr. Tacke.

People in later years would say "There's no track like Tacke Track," reminiscing on the good old days when he coached middle school track and field. His signature phrase drove us to the limits and inspired me into the mentality of what success in track is all about. He was a real character builder.

He was ruthless and had little mercy, drilling us until we felt like dropping to the floor. Yet, he was compassionate and understanding. One day in 8th grade, when we took our team pictures, something happened that I was unable to be in our team picture. I can't remember why, but it upset me. As it happened, there was someone who had upset me very personally that day and I was on edge. My anger management wasn't as good back then and at one point I began venting on the field. Mr. Tacke pulled me aside and places a strong, firm hand on my shoulder.

"He's been having a rough day," he said. They were very compassionate words, showing sympathy and understanding, but being a coach he also managed to say it in such a way that it really pushed me to get back on track. No pun intended. I think after that moment I was always a little in awe of him, and it's probably my strongest memory of the man.

I looked forward to having him in high school, but unfortunately he was payed to retire early when the school was cutting back on its budget. Instead, my freshman year English teacher was a rookie and a bit frail when it came to commanding respect. It essentially made freshman year a boring experience, and that's perhaps one of the biggest things I remember it by.

There was, in fact, a giant schoolwide moment where we all joked about the loss. During the pep rally before our homecoming game, the seniors put on a skit about members from the enemy team, Willy and Billy, went undercover to see what our school was like. They discovered that our school was a tough in every way, but they could just barely hang on the whole time until...well, actually, I have the script right here with me. I asked my friend to print it off because I had fallen in love with it, and it's been a keepsake of mine ever since. It didn't say it in the manuscript, but they had dramatic vocal music playing from 300, and the narrator spoke in a very deep voice. Here's a direct quote:

Narrator: Thud...Thud...THUD! The ground quakes. Heavy footsteps reverberate across the desolate library plane. A deafening vibration trembles across the floor. Only one pair of golden feet can create such a wave of terror! It is fear that grips the duo, not a heightened sense of things [in hindsight, I don't understand what he means by that]. And so the man, given up for eternal retirement, returns to his minions, sacred Warriors, a King! our king...It has been more than one year since the clash of Orab and Warrior. Now, as then, as beast of orange and black approaches, trembling as imminent defeat creeps into their skin, petrified to become a Warrior meal. This beast is made of football players and cheerleaders, pads and pom-pom! An army of football players cast upon imagining...ready to devour the Warriors, ready to tackle the world's one hope for pride and one-anothering!! A beast approaches, AND IT WAS MR. TACKE HIMSELF WHO PROVOKED IT!

[Enter Tacke. Slowly approaches desk while all the seniors bow and grovel. Takes a staff and smashes it over library desk. Orab boys scream like little girls and run away, aborting mission.]

Mr. Tacke showed up, and just for that, there was a standing ovation that lasted for several minutes straight. There's never really been a moment like that since, homecoming or not. He was, more or less, a titan among men.

Jocks who had him as a high school football coach bragged about he would actually punch players and roughhouse with them in ways that football players absolutely loved, and there really was nothing as greatt as having him to boss them around.

Last year I talked to the last generation of students who knew him as a teacher. They were seniors, and when they were asked what they remembered most about their first day of high school, they all unanimously said "When Mr. Tacke entered the room. He set the tone!" Some of them gave a long, slow nod while saying it to draw out the emphasis. The fact is, I believe them completely. There was no messing with Mr. Tacke and there was no taking school lightly, but somehow it was really easy to like it that way. He probably would have made doing homework seem hardcore.

Last year, as a final art project, I pained a picture of him on a ceiling tile. Painting ceiling tiles is a traditional final art piece that people leave behind in Independent Art, and I really wanted my lasting piece to contain a piece of the schools identity to be immortalized. Since Mr. Tacke loved the library, it was placed there. It was probably the best painting I ever did. Unfortunately, it was probably the last good ceiling painting in a while, since so far there's been 20 or so new ceiling paintings that are nothing more than people writing their favorite logos, which are essentially just 3 words in a stylized font at most, usually with a single-colored background, so I'm a little sad, but it makes me all the more proud of the efforts I put into the Mr. Tacke painting.

Often times I have wondered what priests meant when they said that we should "fear God", since God was Love and all that jazz. There was finally a moment of dawning comprehension after I was done with 8^th grade and no longer in track when I thought back on my experience with him and gained some appreciation on what that all meant. He had a way of really putting me into place and keeping me disciplined, but he also inspired the best out of me, and I loved him.

To this day Mr. Tacke remains my favorite teacher, even though I never had him, and I dedicate my fictional general Lucy, who was originally inspired by Mewtwo, after him, as they share the same toughness. I'm sure Mewtwo would actually resemble Mr. Tacke quite closely after he grew old enough.

I bring this all up because he drove by me today, stopped, and backed up so he could give me a ride home. It was the most awesome thing that happened all week. That includes Sunday, when I went and watched The Avengers. I hope that puts things into perspective. The whole point to this entry was to exclaim with giddy excitement that I got a ride from him, although if anyone's going to know about that then they might as well know why he's awesome and why everything associated with him is hardcore.

The moral of the story is that almost nothing is as hardcore as the people who made a difference in your life.

Sincerely,

Monosmith