-
This boy will not have to worry about living with regret

My son could hardly keep up as we walked the dogs around the Big M. I had to stop so much that the dogs were getting tired of me waiting for him to catch up.
He was 13 and about to start eighth grade, and this was the only exercise he could do. He could not move very fast. The walk took me twice as long as when I did it with just the dogs.
Earlier that summer, we finally got good news from a neurologist at the Seattle Children’s Hospital. He did not have muscular dystrophy, as we and some medical professionals feared. Instead, his leg muscles were nearly destroyed by the high doses of steroids he needed to keep him alive during a pair of asthma attacks that led to Life Flights to Missoula.
He would grow out of his condition, the neurologist said, but he needed to work hard if he was going to be any kind of an athlete. He would have to work twice as hard as most of his teammates and competitors.
A few years earlier, he was having a hard time deciding whether he would be a Hall of Fame running back or a Hall of Fame third baseman. As he struggled to keep up on the mostly-flat 1.3-mile walk around the mountain that day, he figured he would never play sports again.
There was no chance he could play football that fall, just like he could not play in the sixth or seventh grade. But I tried to talk him into playing football when he got to high school. I really wanted him to play for Butte High coach Arie Grey, a coach I respected since he took over the program when my son was a baby.
I told my son that he has a chance to someday be a member of a Butte High team that could do some serious damage.
I told him how I quit the football team at Butte Central after my freshman year, and I really wish I would have kept playing. As a senior, I listened on the radio as my former teammates played in the Class A State championship game.
Since that day, I have had a giant hole of regret in my soul, and nothing could ever fill it.
You only have one spin on this space rock as it spirals around the Milky Way, and, as they say, youth is wasted on the young. If I could go back in time, I would make the decision to keep playing football 100 times out of 100.
The Maroons did not win that championship game, but the boys on that team have a bond that will last a lifetime. They were teammates then, and they will be teammates forever.
Butte High, I said, could win the state championship. Even if he was a third-string center, he would be a state champion for the rest of his life.
Of course, Butte High did not win a state title in his years at the school, but that does not change the ties that those players will have forever. It isn’t just the Friday nights and the wins and losses that bind. It’s the practices, the film room and the early mornings lifting weights that build a team.
It’s the unity, the togetherness. It is the daring to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself. That goes for all team sports, but it goes at least double for football.
The boy played football as a freshman. He was 5-feet-4 and 225 pounds. He worked hard, but he was heavy and slow. The freshman team did not win a game that season, though it might have gone undefeated if the two best freshmen in the school were not starting for the varsity.
He thought about quitting after his freshman year. A bunch of his friends did, too, because they did not like the freshman coaches.
That is why I quit football. I hated my freshman coaches. I hated that they made us freshman run the dreaded “Big 3” because our locker room was messy. They did that after they knew it was the sophomores who messed it.
I was too shortsighted to see that those coaches were trying to build us up. They were trying to make us tough, and that worked for most of the team. That’s why so many of my teammates played in the championship game three years later.
That, I told him, is what the coaches were doing to his team, but he wasn’t buying it.
So, I wrote a column to try to convince my son and his buddies to keep playing. In that column, I told them about my regret. I also wrote that the freshman coaches made a goof by getting themselves burgers, fries and shakes from Five Guys while the players washed down their cold pizza with bus-temperature water after the season-opening Great Falls Jamboree.
My son did not mention the Five Guys incident to me. One of his friends did, and some other boys agreed that it really bothered them. One player called it the “most disheartening thing he saw in his life.”
He must have had an easy life.
Yes, it was a mistake by the coaches to put themselves ahead of the team in that moment, but I assured the boys that those coaches were working those long, thankless hours for them. They were taking time away from their families for them.
Sure, I was a little mad when I recently found out some coaches teased my son about that column for three years. He was not the source of that information, and it irritated me that the adults would take something out on a boy for something I wrote.
When I saw the hugs after the last game of the senior year, though, I realized that that teasing was out of love. I felt bad for feeling otherwise, even if those feelings were brief.
Those coaches would lie down on the street for any of those players. They do not coach for themselves. They do it to help turn boys into men, and that is what did.
This past year, my boy played varsity as a senior. He worked so hard that he lost 35 pounds since his freshman year, even as he grew 9 inches.
He played a ton on the defensive line some games. Other games he did not play as much. I think he felt like he was letting me down on the games when he didn’t see the field as much, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Just seeing him as part of that team each week was like watching him win the Super Bowl. I could not possibly be prouder of my son, who has always been an outstanding teammate. When he did not make the play, he was the first to celebrate the player who did.
That, I believe, is what being part of a team is all about.
These Bulldogs did not win the state championship. They made a late-season run to qualify for the playoffs, where they fell 42-6 on the road against Great Falls Russell.
Even if the season ended long before they wanted, those boys on that team will always have a bond. They will always have a brotherhood. When they go to their 50th class reunion, they will talk about that team.
They will remember some of the wins and losses. Even more, they will remember the practices and the bus rides. That connection will truly last a lifetime.
It will also be a memory my wife and I will never forget. As we watched him play in his last game, we could not help but think of the helpless feeling of driving and flying around looking for answers. We could not help but think about the sleepless nights thinking our son could be confined to a wheelchair.
Instead, we got to watch him make memories with his teammates. They were not championship memories, but they were good memories. The best memories.
They were the kind of memories that mean my boy will never have to worry about trying to fill that giant hole of regret like I do.
— Bill Foley, who is OK with eating cold pizza, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 or Bluesky at @foles74.bsky.social. Listen to him on the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.
-
Senior Night turned out to be special

Senior Night is for the moms. That is something I have said for years.
The mothers make a huge deal out of the last home game for their senior players, and the fathers kind of uncomfortably go through the motions.
As I walked through the blowup Bulldog onto Naranche Stadium with my senior son, his mother, grandmother and two sisters Friday night, I realized that I might have been wrong about that.
As we walked, I was filled with pride that my son was a Butte High Bulldog. Not only was it an honor to watch my boy play for the home team at Naranche Stadium, it was something that I did not think was possible just a few years ago.
In 2021, we thought he might be headed to a life in a wheelchair because he was showing some real signs of having muscular dystrophy. We drove around the state and took him to children’s hospitals in Salt Lake City and Seattle before we finally got some good news.
Instead of an irreversible genetic disorder, Grady was suffering from side effects from the heavy doses of medicine he was given during severe asthma attacks that required Life Flights to Missoula in 2015 and 2019.
In July of 2021, a little more than a month before he started eighth grade, a Seattle neurologist told us that Grady would grow out his problems. The high doses of steroids destroyed his leg muscles and made him gain weight. He needed physical therapy to learn how to run again.
During his physical for his freshman year of football, Grady was 5 feet, 4 inches and 225 pounds. During his physical for his senior year, he was measured at 6-1, and 190. He grew 9 inches and lost 35 pounds.
That was all fueled by his desire to win football games with the Bulldogs. When he wasn’t lifting with the team early in the morning, he was spending his Saturday nights working out at the Knights of Columbus. So, every snap he takes for the team makes me beam with pride.
But that pride does not stop with my son. As we walked onto the field for Senior Night Friday, I thought about so many of the other seniors who were walking with their families at Naranche and with Butte Central on Montana Tech’s Bob Green Field.
I coached or coached against many of them in baseball and grade school basketball. Others I just know from watching them play with my son. I couldn’t help but get a little emotional when I thought about them playing their last football games on their home turf, too.
Because of health reasons, Cayde Stajcar did not play football his senior year, but he is very much a part of the team, wearing his No. 0 to every game. I knew Cayde was going to be something special the first Saturday morning I took my son to play in the Knights of Columbus Little Kids Hoops Program.
Not only was Cayde an incredible athlete at a young age, he went out of his way to make sure the other boys and girls got to shoot and have fun.
As a Little League coach, I never beat one of Cayde’s team. The same could be said for Brooks Vincent, who just seems to be so dang good at every sport he tries.
I have photos of a tiny Kaleb Celli and Grady with Montana Tech stars like Zach Bunney, Quinn McQueary and Nolan Saracini. I’ll never forget throwing him passes from our deck to the trampoline as Kaleb gave me instructions to “Odell me” so he could make a one-handed catch like Odell Beckham Jr.
Now Kaleb is making those tough catches for the Bulldogs, and in the playoffs, nonetheless.
Hudson Luedtke will go down as one of the greatest Butte High athletes of all time. He is the all-time leading scorer for the basketball program — with one year left to play — and should earn All-State honors in football for the fourth straight year.
I have followed the career of Gunner Bushman since his mother and I were competing sixth-grade basketball coaches. I thought baseball was his best game until I saw him play defense for the football team this year.
College coaches should be beating down his door.
That goes for Mitch Verlanic, too. For the past two years, he has proven to be one of the best Butte High defensive players of the century.
I coached Bridger Brancamp in baseball, and he did not like baseball too much. Football and wrestling are more his game, and nobody on the team works harder than him in the weight room.
Jeremiah Johnson used to walk into my house, grab the remote control and turn Netflix to “Quarterback.” He told me he was going to play for Oregon. He’s not, but he is one of my favorite Bulldogs of all time, even though he doesn’t play a ton.
Just hearing his name, or nickname “Niner,” makes me smile.
Peyton Johnson has some blazing speed, and he turned out to be one heck of a running back, just like his cousins Kameron and Kobe Moreno.
I feel like I know Kadyn Sommer, Gannon Sullivan, Waylon Hicks and Keegan Swisher because I always focused so much on the trenches. That is something parents of linemen do.
Over at BC, Ryan Peoples taught my son how to climb a fence. They were climbing into the baseball field while their older siblings played in a coach-pitch game.
A year or two later, Ryan was Grady’s first fight. I’m not sure who won that fight at the Stodden Park playground. But Round 2 nearly started when they argued about the outcome.
I knew the name Colt Hassler long before Grady played with him on the Dirt Ballers baseball team. He could hit the baseball out of sight by the time he was 11 years old.
Everyone calls Kelton Keane “Stewie” or “Stew.” He was primed for a big senior year. Unfortunately, he injured his knee on the first kickoff off the season this year. I truly hope he will be back in time to play baseball.
I’ve known Tony Stajcar’s parents for nearly 40 years. While he probably gets his speed from his dad, Mark, I know he gets his toughness from his mom, Annette, whom I still call “Gert.” Tony is almost as tough as his twin sister, Arika, who plays volleyball and basketball for the Maroons.
I got to talk to Jack Nagle after he booted a last-second field-goal to lift the Maroons to a win over Hardin earlier this season. It was the only BC game I got to watch this year because the Maroons and Bulldogs always play at the same time, and not against each other. I wish I could have seen him play a few more times.
Those are just some of the senior football players I feel like I know pretty well. I also followed the careers of so many seniors who play volleyball, soccer and golf. For instance, volleyball player Gracie Jonart smacked at least 200 hits off me when I was the pitcher in her coach-pitch games.
I also knew Mattie Stepan was a tough competitor when, as a first grader, she delivered the hardest foul of Grady’s basketball career at the KC.
As her dad pointed out, though, Grady missed the free throws, so it was a good foul.
So, I did not hear much of what the public address announcer was saying about Grady as we took the arm-in-arm senior walk. The PA system at Naranche leaves much to be desired, plus I was thinking about all those seniors.
That is about the time I realized that Senior Night is not just for the moms.
— Bill Foley, who is usually uncomfortably going through the motions, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 or Bluesky at @foles74.bsky.social. Listen to him on the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.























