Coach Rick Rogers
I've never written anything of importance for others to read. I’m much more of a conversational guy rather than a written one.
The last few days have been really hard for me to comprehend, though, and I have found myself compelled to do something … anything, as a way to honor my former Captain and dear friend, Volonte Bell.
I would much rather sit down and tell everyone about my friend, and I will do just that at every opportunity, and these will be the things I tell.
Our relationship began in 2006 when I became the head basketball coach at Central High. My athletic assessment of Volonte was unique. It didn’t take long for me to observe the things neither I nor anyone else could ever teach him: his cat-like quickness and defensive instincts. It was apparent from the get-go, he was a sophomore who had been forced into a role as shooting guard along the way, but his skill set told an altogether different tale.
I called Volonte to the side that day following tryouts and had the first of what would be many conversations to come with him. It was just the two of us, and I looked him in his eyes and told him something he probably didn’t want to hear at that time. I told him he was a point guard, but not just any ordinary point guard. I told him if he would have faith in the process, if he would put in the work and show the ambition, and if he would dedicate himself to being what this Purple Pounder basketball needed most, people would see him for what he was: the premier point guard in Chattanooga.
Again, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, and I could tell he weighed it with a degree of hesitation, but he walked away from that meeting with a degree of trust in me, and I in him, and a bond was formed between coach and player unlike any I have ever been part.
By the time Volonte was a senior there almost wasn’t a need for me to coach him anymore. He played entire games that can only be described as perfect. He had flawless fundamentals. He went weeks without turning the ball over. He was a double-double machine between points and assists. And he did all of this while relishing the opportunity to defend the opposing team's best player.
"Coach, I've got him on lockdown!" he'd say with a confident grin. And he would.
I dare say he's the only point guard in this city to ever clinch a tournament championship over the mighty Hamilton Heights Hawks on their home court. He was that good.
Volonte didn't care about participation trophies and he made it clear that he'd play in the NBA for free. He didn't care about the spotlight or stats. But he also didn’t want any part of foolishness, laziness, or selfishness. Those words weren't in his vocabulary. He cared about winning in life whether it be with the cafeteria workers at Central, my handicapped students at Special Olympics, or engaging reporters after tight games.
He loved to win and he hated to lose; every game, every day, period. He's the only person I've known as happy on the court playing pick-up with his buddies as he was in my classroom reading a book alone. When you love life the way he did, the only outcome available was true joy. If he won, he came to practice the next day and worked harder because his team did something that didn't meet his standards. If he lost, he respected the other team and congratulated them. Yes, I said congratulated them while looking them in the eye and swapping a handshake or hug. But by the time practice rolled around the next day, he was on a mission to fix whatever went wrong the night before. He was an absolute perfectionist with his game.
Volonte was a rarity in high school athletics. He impacted the lives of kids and coaches alike. You see, he went to class daily without exception and never met a stranger. He blamed no one for his mistakes and excuses were never part of his vocabulary. He didn't care about lackadaisical AAU defenses, erroneous mythical rankings of players, or living and dying by the 3. Those were elements of the game that drove him batty and he'd be happy to vent about them as long as you'd listen. He respected his teammates, coaches, teachers, administrators, and yes.....even referees. He simply loved people and they loved him.
Volonte represented his God, school, teammates, coaches, and community with unwavering pride. He loved being a Pounder and there were no colors other than purple and gold. He wasn't afraid to pray before games and give God thanks publicly either. He inspired everyone around him to live like he did: profanity free. He never uttered a single cuss word.....not one. Moreover, his drive, passion, and energy at practice were contagious. He made every single player beside him better, and in turn, he made our team special.
For the past three years, Volonte has been an assistant coach alongside one of Chattanooga's greatest players and coaches, Jay Price. Volonte flourished at Chattanooga State using his charisma, knowledge of the game, and personality to set his sights on becoming a collegiate coach some day.
He had a fiery passion to teach younger players the game and called me regularly with frustrations and milestones about the developmental process. He also made trips to Central years after graduation just to check on former teachers because he cared that much. I can't express into words the mutual love and respect that we shared; only a coach or player would understand anyway. I felt like we were interchangeable at times during competition. I played on the sidelines and he coached on the floor and vice versa. He was the ONLY player to ever reach that level with me.
It was certainly a magical experience and I'm grateful to him for a lifetime of those memories to carry me through until I see that million watt smile of his again. Thank you Volonte for always having my back; for always caring about me, and always believing in me. Thank you for always checking on me and always loving me; for always giving of yourself to others and always giving your best. Thank you for always putting others before yourself and always seeking greatness; for always leading by example, and most importantly, for always being you.
As a coach there is a cardinal rule, much like that of a parent. You love them all the same, there are no favorites. You never point out one above another. You have to, at least publically. When you have coached as many players as I have over the past 29 years, to do so would make one player incredibly happy, and so many others disappointed.
With apologies to all the others, Volonte was my one.
Your spirit will walk with me daily because "I've got you on lockdown now." I will always love you Volonte.
(Editor’s Note: Coach Rick Rogers coached Central High School from 2006 until 2017 after a stellar basketball career at East Ridge High School. He led the Purple Pounders to two Class AA state tournaments during his tenure. Rick was one of the most animated sideline figures I’ve ever known, but also one with an immense amount of character and integrity. He loved his players)
(Contact Rick Rogers at richardhrogers1968@gmail.com)