Advice for Urban Meyer


Published: Monday, January 4, 2010 at 2:53 p.m.
Last Modified: Monday, January 4, 2010 at 2:53 p.m.

Michael Foster: Get a grip, Urban

I have some advice for Urban Meyer. Perhaps he will have time to read the newspaper now that the season is over.

First, get a grip. You're middle-aged. You and I are roughly the same age. We're like 6-year-old automobiles. We still run pretty well, but parts are just going to break, and repairs will be needed.

Second, be realistic. Sure, you work hard, but you make multiple millions of dollars. My guess is that you don't work any harder than thousands of single mothers in this country who work two jobs to make ends meet. And at least you have an employer who is willing to give you time off for health

problems. Many single moms have a hard time when they have to pick up a sick child from school.

Third, have a little humility. No one lives or dies if you're less successful. Trade places with a cancer surgeon for a week if you want a stressful job. I wish you the best and hope you emerge on the other side of your time away renewed and with a better sense of how lucky you are.

Michael Foster

Chapel Hill, NC

Stephen Smith: A time to pause

I know exactly what has occurred with Urban Meyer, yet I am sitting over a thousand miles away. As a physician who wants to be nothing more than maximum service to mankind, I will bet any amount of Gator legs that he has been slowly overcome with the same condition that ails our nation. The condition is best described as spiritual angst.

Gratefully, he has finally recognized it, and under the circumstances, he is doing the most absolute right thing. Finally full of all the glory, all the fame and more than enough money, he is left with that hole in his soul that is now causing physical symptoms. It cannot be measured, it cannot be weighed, it cannot be photographed or seen in any other way. There is certainly no

medical book that will describe it, or define it or even come close to categorizing it.

It is a place in life when one runs full throttle into the wall of meaninglessness. You have everything you dreamed of and there is still a piece missing. It is as though some cruel puzzle maker sent you a jigsaw puzzle, most beautiful and intricate and colorful, only one piece was missing.

That is when your heart begins to race. You sweat. You quiver. You search all around the table, all around the box, even in the other rooms just in case. The piece is not there. It is a most hideous feeling of being incomplete. Not quite done

Living in this greedy and lustful culture that we have created, with most wanting a pill for every ill and immediate gratification being the flavor of the era, the press, the neighbors, the voyeurs galore, all want a name for this condition. Is it panic attacks or anxiety disorder? Perhaps there even is a physiological change that has occurred. The symptoms are very real and very disturbing.

It is most definitely a time to pause. Pause and take inventory. Pause and self-reflect. Slowly, like oatmeal thickening on Grandmother’s warm stove, the missing piece of the puzzle begins to define itself. Gradually, ever so gradually the lake and the meadow are one. I pray he is learning the secret. Every, not most, not more than, but every situation can be made more peaceful, more calm, more loving with a spiritual compass. The Carpenter, over two thousand years ago, spoke the truth. It was short. It was real. Love God with all your heart and all your soul, and do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Godspeed, Coach Meyer. You brought your gift, you made a difference

and as for me, I am grateful.

Stephen Smith, M.D.

San Angelo, Texas

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