Lathom Kelley, a bad-ass with the biggest heart in the game. (John Fisken photo)
How do you measure greatness?
Do you measure it only in terms of state meet medals won, of MVP awards claimed, of popularity polls that can be easily manipulated?
Or, do you measure it in terms of heart, of commitment, of a refusal to bend the knee even when that might make your life easier?
Do you measure it in terms of orneriness on the field and compassion off the field?
Of a bad-ass who actually, not that far down, and not that well hidden, has a surprising gentleness of the soul layered underneath the good ol’ boy bluster?
I look at the four years of writing this blog, and what I see when I look across the field at Lathom Kelley is a man.
He certainly was young at the start, and to us old school types, is still a young man now at 18. But there was never a moment when he was a boy.
Lathom has been a man from day one of his freshman year to his high school graduation.
From the first moment I watched him play football, flying around the field like a maniac, hauling down runners from behind, laugh cackling across the field, he was a wonder.
Bouncing off the walls in the CHS gym, flying in one door, streaking across the court, then running up the wall at the other end and landing the back-flip (most times), the raw athletic talent on display was always eye-popping.
You put him in an event, any event, during his years in track and field, and he would throw down times and distances that were frequently astonishing.
Most times, without having ever practiced the event before.
In a just world, Lathom would have sailed through all four years of his high school life without an injury.
But, this isn’t always a just world.
Rarely have I seen such a talented athlete bedeviled so often by injuries.
If there was a moment when he strode by not wearing a cast of some kind, it was a rare moment.
Injuries denied him honors he deserved, chances to stand on podiums and hear his name called.
But never think for a moment he took the easy way out.
He played through pain that would have stopped most people cold.
One of the enduring images I have is watching him grind forward for yardage on the gridiron, casted-up arm swinging madly, as three rival players tried (and failed) to bring him down.
When you look at Lathom’s prep career, there are great moments, both on the football field and track oval.
There is also what could have been.
But honestly, that’s more me and far less him — he never struck me as a guy who was going to spend much time sitting around wallowing in his “glory days.”
So, let’s not waste too much time worrying about alternate worlds.
Let’s praise Lathom for what he was able to accomplish, when his body agreed.
For how he entertained us, for how he brightened the world of Wolf Nation, for how he strode past, sardonic grin in place, always off to create good-natured havoc and mischief.
As a fresh-faced youngster or a beard-rockin’ “old guy” he was our McConaughey, our bright shining ball o’ fire living life to his own funky beat.
And let’s praise the man, the stand-up guy who came barreling out of the stands and put a bear-hug on a classmate when he noticed the player’s parents weren’t able to be in the gym for basketball’s Senior Night.
Declaring “this is my boy!” as he posed for pictures with his newly-adopted son, it was class, pure and simple.
So, how do you measure greatness?
You measure it in heart and soul, and few have shown the heart and soul of Lathom Kelley.
Today I welcome him into the Coupeville Sports Hall o’ Fame, as a one-man wrecking crew, the 53rd class inducted into these hallowed digital walls.
After this, you’ll find him alongside other Wolf greats at the top of the blog, under the Legends tab.
Will he care about this?
Part of me hopes yes, that, deep down, it’ll mean something to him, a token of our respect for him and the man he has become.
Part of me hopes he just cocks an eyebrow and says “Yeah, whatever dude,” smiles, and moves on.
Either way, the dude will abide. And that’s how it should be.
