Richard A. and Karin Koch

14212 Chimney House Road

Midlothian, VA  23112

May 20, 2008

Mr. Andy Dooley

c/o Virginia Moose Association

Bedford, VA  24523

If there were a way to bring Sherwin-Williams to Bedford on Saturday afternoon in May, they would go back, invent a paint color and call it Bedford Blue.  It is the color of the cloudless sky at 2:00 in the afternoon in Bedford, Virginia.  It is the color that God intended the sky to be.

If the people who bottle water want to know how it should taste they will come to Bedford, Virginia on a Saturday in May and taste the fresh cool water, the way that God intended it to be.  

If people want to understand why we travel to the mountains, they should come to Bedford, Virginia on a Saturday afternoon in May, and experience the clear clean air, the way that God intended it to be.  

The athletes of Special Olympics, their brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, neighbors and friends come for more than the bright blue sky, the fresh cool water, the clear clean air.  We come because of the men and women of the Moose.  Men and women the way that God intended them to be.  

To the Men and Women of the Moose who wonder why this is such a big deal, reflect for a moment on what you have achieved.  NOTHING YOU DID WAS A SMALL THING.  

· All I did was cook or serve a meal

Look at what you have done.  There is a sea of people, all mingled together, yelling to each other, disregarding not only the color of their uniform, but their differences in age, gender, skin color, religion, and ability.  They are talking together, laughing, joking, reminiscing, replaying, remembering, retelling, pointing.  As you think about this crowd of people, reflect that half a world away people of the same religion, the same skin color, the same backgrounds hate each other.  

· All I did was announce names at the field

Look at what you have done.  This is the big time.  Did you hear the athlete when he turned and corrected your pronunciation?  Did you think nobody was listening?  You have made a whole population of people proud of themselves, one name at a time.  

· All I did was sit on a committee

Look at what you have done.  Boys who were afraid of loud noises sat through the fireworks, protected by their teammates.  Ponder the second half of the Special Olympic Oath: To be brave in the attempt.  This is the tournament where a cancer survivor returns to play after three years of therapy because he owes it to his team.  This is the tournament where an asthmatic runs out of medication, can no longer play but wants to coach third base.  Maybe it is this way because we are playing under the shadow of the D-Day Memorial and in the fields where the Bedford Boys once played.  This is a tournament where the results are so different from the final score.  
 

· All I did was bring water to the dugouts

Look at what you have done.  Athletes with medical needs have the water they need to sustain themselves.  You bring not just water; you bring opportunity to those who would otherwise be home.  You refresh us and our time together.  

· All I did was sit on the sidelines and cheer

Look what you have done.  Yours was the voice an athlete heard when he made the catch and threw the ball to first for the out.  What you did not know is that was the first time he has accomplished it.  And you were there and you cheered for him.  For all the athletes.  It made all the difference.  

· All I did was help raise money for the tournament

Look at what you have done.  This is The Bedford.  Like The Masters, The US Open.  It is the tournament of choice.  Asked to choose among Bedford, NASCAR, a weekend in Nag’s Head or a day at Kings Dominion, our family chooses The Bedford.  This is not just a softball tournament; it is an event to be anticipated.  Families arrange their lives for The Bedford.  Neighbors know they will be watching the dogs that weekend.  

· All I did was hand out awards

Then you did not hear the clanging of medals around necks on a four-hour bus ride.  You did not hear athletes explain that even though they lost 17-7 they are ready to play again, tomorrow.  They were only one hit away, if only the grass wasn’t slippery.  If only…You were not with us and did not hear the sound of an entire team bus that is asleep because they gave it all they had.  

My son is a catcher on his team because he knows I was a catcher for my high school baseball team.  He wears number 12 because I wore number 12.  I do not know how he knows these.  I forgot my high school number until he showed it to me in an old yearbook.  I used to wonder if he would ever be able to play catch in the driveway, hit a wiffle ball over the fence in the back yard, play in an organized league.  My daughter is a partner with another team and judges the character of her friends by the way they play Special Olympics Softball and interact with the athletes, most of all her brother.

What can a father do when his son shows him that he wants to grow up to be like him some day?  How does a father thank his daughter who organizes her life to be at Bedford?  How does one man thank the Men and Women of the Moose for a gift of immeasurable value?  

Your tournament gives a gift that is only fully measured upon reflection.  A gift almost too awesome to appreciate.  You build bridges within families; you create family memories and myths; you sustain friendships.  If your colleagues still wonder what all the fuss is about, and what the big deal is, dare them to come to Bedford, talk to the athletes, their coaches and their families.  This is so much more than a tournament of softball players.  THESE ARE NO SMALL THINGS.  

With grateful appreciation

Richard A. Koch