As my son Jayson Woodrich prepares to begin his coaching career with the Santa Cruz Warriors, the NBA G League affiliate of the Golden State Warriors, I am learning something about ambition, uncertainty, family — and the courage it takes to let our adult children choose their own road.
Jason Woodrich working curtsied during his college basketball Graduate Assistant experience
My son, Jayson Woodrich, and I embracing after his final game as a Division I basketball player.
Next week, my son, Jayson Woodrich, will begin a new chapter as a coaching associate with the Santa Cruz Warriors, the NBA G League affiliate of the Golden State Warriors.
It still feels a little remarkable to write that.
Only two years ago, Jayson was playing Division I basketball. He played at Cleveland State University and finished his college career at Oakland University before moving into coaching as a graduate assistant with Florida State men's basketball.
And now he is taking another step into the profession he loves.
I am enormously proud of him.
I also know enough about coaching to understand that getting a wonderful opportunity doesn't suddenly make the future predictable.
Where will he be in three years? Five years? Who will he work for? What opportunities will come? What happens when a coach leaves, an organization changes direction, or an entire staff suddenly finds itself somewhere else?
Jayson does not seem to require answers to all of those questions before moving forward.
Apparently, his mother would prefer to have them.
And perhaps that is one of the great adjustments of loving an adult child.
We spend years trying to make their world safer. Then they become adults and choose lives that matter deeply to them — and sometimes our job is simply to support those lives without requiring them to feel safe to us.
The Work Behind the Opportunity
Professional sports can look glamorous from the outside.
There are arenas and team gear, television cameras and recognizable names. There is the excitement of being part of a game millions of people love.
But there is another side that most people never see.
There are long days of film, preparation, player development, scouting, travel, learning and relationship-building. There are small jobs done well before anyone entrusts you with bigger ones. There are people watching to see whether you work hard, whether you listen, whether you can be trusted and whether you make the people around you better.
That is the part of Jayson I believe in most.
He has an exceptional basketball mind. He studies the game seriously. He is resilient. He works hard. He listens. He keeps going when something doesn't happen exactly as he hoped.
And he is a good human being.
That matters to me more than the name on the front of his team gear.
Because organizations change. Titles change. Careers change.
Character travels with you.
From Playing Division I Basketball to Coaching
Jayson's path into coaching has happened quickly.
He played at Cleveland State, where he was part of two Horizon League championship teams, and completed his final collegiate season at Oakland University. At Florida State, he moved to the other side of the game, working in player development, film breakdown, scouting preparation and other areas of a Division I basketball program.
Now, with the Santa Cruz Warriors, he is learning within the Golden State Warriors organization and taking another step toward whatever his coaching career may eventually become.
I don't know what that will be.
And increasingly, I understand that I am not supposed to.
A Family That Understands Coaching
Our family has watched the coaching road before.
My nephews, Matt LaFleur and Mike LaFleur, have built careers in professional football one demanding opportunity at a time. Matt is the head coach of the Green Bay Packers, and Mike is now the head coach of the Arizona Cardinals.
Jayson has therefore grown up with a rather unusual view of professional coaching.
He has seen the success.
But he has also seen what comes before it — years of moves, long hours, professional uncertainty, public criticism and the constant reality that today's position never guarantees tomorrow's.
My brother Denny, Matt and Mike's father, understands that perhaps better than anyone.
JWith my nephew Matt LaFleur and my son Jayson Woodrich
I have watched him support his sons through extraordinary victories and difficult stretches without trying to control the outcome. His perspective has been enormously valuable to me, and to Jayson.
Matt has also mentored Jayson as he begins building his own coaching career.
There is something especially meaningful about that to me.
Because the most valuable thing Matt and Mike can give their younger cousin isn't a shortcut into professional sports.
It is perspective.
They know what this life asks of a person.
They also know that a career can be uncertain without being misguided.
What Their Success Has Taught Me
When people see someone who has reached the top of a profession, it is easy to look backward and imagine that the path was somehow inevitable.
It rarely is.
There were decisions Matt and Mike made years ago without knowing where those decisions would lead. There were jobs that required moves. There were seasons that went beautifully and seasons that did not.
Their careers have taught me that uncertainty and failure are not the same thing.
That distinction matters enormously when we are watching our children build their own lives.
Sometimes we want evidence that everything is going to work out before we give ourselves permission to feel peaceful.
Life does not usually offer that bargain.
Learning to Live With the Unknown
Watching my brother has helped me understand that being the parent of a coach — or really the parent of any adult child chasing something difficult — means learning to live with questions we cannot resolve for them.
I can celebrate Jayson's new opportunity without knowing where it will lead.
I can listen when he needs to talk.
I can offer perspective when he asks for it.
I can remind him who he is if a difficult season someday makes him question himself.
And I can resist turning every conversation into a discussion about what comes next.
He deserves to enjoy what he has accomplished.
So do I.
When Our Children Choose a Road We Cannot Predict
This really isn't a story only about basketball or football.
Many of us have adult children building lives that look nothing like the orderly future we once imagined for them.
They start businesses. Change careers. Move across the country. Choose creative professions. Pursue dreams without guaranteed salaries or predictable promotions.
We can admire their courage and simultaneously wish they had chosen something safer.
Both feelings can be true.
Our challenge is making sure our fear doesn't become another burden they have to carry while doing the difficult work of building their own lives.
Faith helps me enormously with that.
I pray for Jayson, for the people guiding him and for wisdom as he builds his life.
But lately I have also been praying for something else:
the grace to let his life unfold.
I trust that God is present in the opportunities we celebrate and in the chapters we cannot yet see.
I don't know where coaching will eventually take my son.
Today, it has taken Jayson Woodrich to the Santa Cruz Warriors and the Golden State Warriors organization.
And that is a beautiful moment in his story.
So rather than racing ahead to figure out the ending, I am trying to stay here.
Proud of the man he has become.
Grateful for the people helping him find his way.
And willing to let the next chapter belong to him.
Jayson Woodrich encouraging a Florida State University basketball player.