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Letter to the editor

Schools

A school's name can have quite a history

By MARLENE SOKOL, Times Staff Writer
Published December 21, 2007

LUTZ - On a cold March afternoon, I sat in the bleachers at Gaither High School, waiting to see my daughter play soccer for her middle school.

I waited. And waited. When she finally took the field, it was well into the game, and her team had a comfortable lead. They played her up front, a position she was not used to.

In the final minute she scored. I took a picture. Life was good.

I look at that picture on my office wall, and I have one man to thank for that moment.

George Steinbrenner.

I have since told that story countless times as inspiration for much-younger players.

The way school boundaries go, my daughter will probably not attend Steinbrenner High.

And, yes, I'm getting used to the name.

We giggled at first, remembering the back of his head in those Seinfeld episodes, wondering what we would say to the cousins back home who live and die for the Mets.

It's a can't-please-everyone proposition, naming a school.

They named one after Crockett Farnell, a years-ago coach who was convicted of embezzlement, then exonerated on appeal.

They named one after Norman Schwarzkopf, a general in a war that, like the current one, was inspired by a story later discredited. ("They're taking babies out of the incubators!")

Nevertheless, Stormin' Norman marched off to battle, and Farnell inspired countless young athletes to chase their gridiron dreams. Steinbrenner stepped forward in the late 1990s with a generous grant when middle school sports were threatened by budget cuts.

I'm still waiting for them to name a school after Keystone's Mark Dafeldecker, who was both a great soccer coach and educator.

But that's largely because I know his family and appreciate his legacy in a personal way.

The high school in Lutz will be named for a guy who has detractors, but made an impact in the lives of middle school athletes.

The day might come when we name schools after Coca-Cola and Verizon, and I'll join the hue and cry.

In the meantime, I have a snapshot, taken mere months before my kid morphed from child to teenager.

The moment and memory are precious to both of us.

I've stopped worrying about what they will say Up North, realizing finally that it doesn't matter anymore.

Because I live in Florida.

[Last modified December 20, 2007, 21:33:34]