Eat. Sleep. Plank. Three words my freshman soccer team lived by. My coach spoke these words daily. He pushed us in a way no other coach had. He only spoke positive words, and he wanted to get to know us on and off the field. No other coach had done that before. It’s not often you meet someone outside your family who genuinely cares about you and wants only the best for your future. I was fortunate enough freshman year to meet a person just like that – Jim Kolokoski.

Kolo, as we affectionately called him, was my high school soccer coach freshman year. From the moment I met him, I sensed his kind heart and consideration for those around him. If a girl had a bad game, it was common for him to pull her aside and point out the things she did well instead of pointing out her obvious mistakes. He would follow his positive feedback with suggestions on how the play could have been handled differently.

He emphasized team bonding. Whether it was a gathering at his farm, bowling, or pizza, he never missed a chance to get the girls together off the field.

I’ve played competitive soccer since I was four. Unfortunately, my former coaches were hardcore with only one thing on their minds: the win. Parents and teammates were not much better than the tunnel-visioned coaches. It didn’t matter the cost (whether time, money, travel, or emotional, physical, and mental strain); it was the reputation of the team and future scholarships that were the focus of the team, parents, and coaches.

After years of suffering under this mentality, the girls freshman team was blessed with Kolo, a coach who brought a new beginning for us down-and-out girls. Kolo was the light in the dark tunnel of my soccer career. He also would be a lifelong friend. He came at the perfect time for me, a passionate player who had lost her love for the game and was ready to throw away years of hard work. People didn’t believe he could be an extraordinary coach because he didn’t have the coarse exterior, but this was precisely what we loved about him.

The team that year was not one that at first glance stood out. No one thought we would be successful and were not bashful about expressing their low expectations for the season. In spite of the criticism, Kolo kept focused and began to work with the team. His approach was unlike anything the team had experienced, and it made us enjoy the game again. The best part about him was the encouragement he gave his players and the fact that there was never any yelling, swearing, or degrading involved.

For Kolo, coaching was never about the win; instead, it was about the players. He wanted to know what made us tick and what we needed to be better teammates. He made an effort to get to know us by taking us on ice cream trips even when we didn’t win because he was proud of how we played. It was like a Christmas morning when Santa gives gifts to even the kids who aren’t perfect.

The team that year clicked, and despite the low expectations, we came in first place and won our conference. Kolo took average players and turned us into an outstanding team, and it was all because he believed in us.

Now, three years later, even though he no longer coaches us, Kolo still comes to games to cheer us on. He meets with us when he senses we are in need of fatherly advice, and he reminds us that regardless of what others might say to deflate our self-esteem, we can and will do great things, and we can stand tall and be proud of our accomplishments.

We may not all go on to play college soccer or receive scholarships, but those of us who have been blessed to know Kolo will walk away from our time with him more confident and knowing we have a lifelong coach rooting for us.