I came anyway

As so many others have already said – there are no single words, memories, or stories that on their own do justice to the person and influence of Mike Sennett. As I read the other posts, I continually realize that it is only when you consider them together that we even begin to grasp the scope of his legacy.

Though I never had the privilege of playing for Mike, I have been fortunate enough to be a coach on his staff for the last five years. As a new teacher at DeSmet five years ago and someone who had an absolutely un-noteworthy lacrosse career as a player and only two years under my belt as a coach, I was more than nervous to join his staff. Despite my nerves, he and the other coaches under his leadership immediately welcomed me into a community that has in many ways defined my experience at DeSmet. Though he taught me more about lacrosse in the last five years than I ever knew going in, he taught me even more about what it means to strive for excellence as a person and the awesome responsibility and privilege of working with young men.

Aside from thoughts of his intense glares as well as the times when those glares were balanced out by his s**t-eating grin and infectious laughter, there are two memories that keep running though my mind. The first occurred right after my few-day old daughter had surgery on her aorta this past February. Things were still tense and my wife and I hadn’t really asked anyone to visit yet outside of parents and siblings. I was looking out the window of our room when I unexpectedly spotted the backside of a very familiar crew cut. He popped in the door and said, “I know that I probably wasn’t supposed to come see you guys yet, but I came anyway.” Not only was he there, but one of his best friends was in town and he drug him to hospital too. Though he was excited to meet my daughter and find out how she was doing, nothing could match his giddy excitement over presenting us with a $150 Imo’s gift card. He couldn’t stop smiling and he kept repeating, “It’s like the perfect gift, right?” He always treated us like family.

The second memory took place on the way home from our pre-season coaches gathering this year. I opted to bypass the 15 passenger van and keep him company in his car on the way home (he would probably cringe to hear his behemoth vehicle referred to as a car). During the four hour ride home, we didn’t mention lacrosse or the upcoming season once. We simply talked about what kind of men we’ve been and what kind of men we wanted to become. I finally realized in that conversation with him how much continual time and effort he put into becoming the man he wanted to be. He was willing to try anything that showed even a glimpse of helping him to achieve his goals. He was beyond persistent and beyond tenacious. He wanted nothing short of excellence. It was no different than what he strived for on the lacrosse field. Though we didn’t talk of lacrosse in this particular conversation, the message was no different than what he demanded from his players every year. Never sell yourself short. Pour everything you have into it. Be reliable and learn to rely on others. He held himself to the same set of standards in his own life. He had countless tales of trying to live out these ideals in his daily life. We all benefited from these tales.

This past weekend in Culver, Indiana was the most difficult weekend of my life. Though we experienced tremendous heartache and pain over our loss, there was almost an immediate sense of pride for having known this man.

To a coach and brother, we’ll never forget you and the foundation you laid for us. You will live on forever through our efforts.

Tony Plein
De Smet Lacrosse Coach 2002-Present