Reed Howard

Congratulations Eve 🎉🏆

I miss Berman just screaming back back back. Just perfect for this event. This is a snooze fest.

Had a fun weekend at the #17ABC with our team making it to the final 8 in the top bracket Stats include: 1B: 3 | 2B: 5 | BB: 3 | R: 11 | RBI: 3 | AVG .471 | OBP: .550 @TeamKC_2027 @PB_Uncommitted @OSFalconBSB @DallasReed_

Go get em Clutch!!!

Kids, bet you didn't know Shane Gillis was pitching when Bo destroyed that baseball.

Got some good work against some great blue valley west competition! @ReedHoward @osffbc @OSfalconsFB @PrepRedzoneKS

-6 ?? 🤣

To be clear, there were a TON of reasons the @USMNT lost today—primarily that Belgium was way better in all facets. But to have the man who is supposed to be the greatest player in the history of our country simply no-show in the biggest tournament of his life is just awful.

Get man bun out of this game!

Watching @FIFAWorldCup makes me believe that miracles really do happen. At least a couple dozen times per game players go down with what looks like season-ending injuries. And then, boom! A miracle happens!!! The athlete is back up and running a full speed. #miracleshappen

Only if the process reliably and consistently creates the intended product. You can do anything and call it "the process". But what is it actually creating and producing? The point of any process is what it produces. A process that doesn't produce a valuable product is a waste of time.

Ball finds the new man.

Very happy for my good friend @eddiev_22! Great baseball coach, even better man.

Camp starts tomorrow for Elementary and Middle School. Walk ups welcome. Hope to see everyone there!

🚨COACHES🚨 C/O 28 6’1 185 lbs WR/TE OLATHE SOUTH HIGH SCHOOL (6A) 913-494-8390 Jaxson.tuley@gmail.com @ReedHoward @osffbc @OSfalconsFB @CoachMRegalado @jeremycrabtree @JRichterNCSA @Revive_Perf @ExpoRecruits @PrepRedzoneKS SOPHOMORE VARSITY FILM ⬇️ hudl.com/v/2TAssJ

Over here, the school bus has an ARM, and when the arm extends, all of America stops. I witnessed it on a morning walk. The yellow vehicle halted, lights flashing, and a small red blade swung out from its side bearing one word: STOP. And EVERYTHING stopped. Both directions. A delivery truck. A sports car driven by a man who had been treating the speed limit as a rumor. A police cruiser — the LAW ITSELF — sat obediently behind the little arm. For what? For one child with an enormous backpack to cross at the speed of a child with an enormous backpack. He dropped a paper. He PICKED IT UP. He examined it briefly for damage. Two lanes of adult lives idled while a seven-year-old conducted a document review in the middle of the road. No one honked. Hear me, America. NO ONE HONKED. I have seen your people honk at a red light for hesitating. I have seen you honk at each OTHER'S honking. And here, total silence, engines purring, a nation of the impatient waiting like stone guardians. I asked my neighbor about it. He said passing a stopped school bus is one of the few things this country will not forgive. "You can mess up a lot here," he said. "Not that." You can mess up a lot here. Not that. Carve it on the courthouse, America — it is the most honest sentence in your legal system. In Japan, we guard our children with crossing guards, flags, and song. You guard yours with a red blade that outranks police cars. Different schools. Same sword. The bus folded its arm and rolled on. The sports car roared off to its debts. The boy never knew an army had held its breath for him. That is the point. He should never know. A man does not ask the bus to fold its arm. Nobody asks. Not even the law. I stop walking now when the arm comes out. Pedestrians are not required to. I do not care. When a whole country goes quiet for one child, you stand still and you bear witness. It is the best thing your roads do, America, and your roads do not even brag about it. Almost nothing else of yours is this humble. Protect it.

USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving. Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free. I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these." "They just come with the table, man." They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner. This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat. I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared. "Did we…?" "Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless." Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined. My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude." Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man. I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy. Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived. I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most. Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.

I had an amazing time competing against other 6A high schools in the Chiefs 11 on, 7 on 7 games. @ReedHoward @osffbc @OSfalconsFB @natep_28 @CoachMRegalado @CoachCollinsCj @WeltyAndrew79 @JRichterNCSA @jeremycrabtree @Revive_Perf Here are a few clips from today ⬇️

Had a blast this week working with some amazing young men. Getting one last game with @JordanB2068 was awesome too.