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Cole Lee Butcher: April 1982-November 1999
Cole Butcher
My earliest memory of Cole Butcher goes back to PeeWee basketball days. He was the kid who could shoot and handle the ball like no one else. Throughout Jr. Pro, middle school, and up to high school, that same thought still comes to mind at the mention of his name. Cole was a year ahead of me in school and I really didn’t know him well beyond the ball courts. But even though we were not the closest of friends there is no doubt that he has left a lasting impression on me about how to live life to the fullest and enjoy every minute of it. One early memory of Cole was back during the finals of the Jr. Pro Tournament in 1995. The Liberty Nuggets (Cole’s team) were playing the Douglas Cavaliers. Cole was an obvious standout, and his quickness and unpredictability made him very exciting to watch. I can remember thinking one thing to myself, "Gee, that Cole Butcher kid sure is good." I have never really known basketball without Cole. Elementary school, middle school, high school. At each level, Cole was there, somewhere. I was at the middle school when he spent his ninth grade year in Florida so I really wouldn’t have had that much contact with him, and it was easy to feel as if he were still playing in Casey County. He was truly dedicated to the game. I remember phoning his house one night in the middle of the winter several years ago, around 10 p.m. His mom said he’d have to call me back- Cole was still outside shooting baskets. In practices, he was always the first to get in line for a drill or opt to shoot a free throw for the team. I would have to believe that Cole’s level of dedication was something any coach dreams of in a player. He was one of a kind. Cole wasn’t the biggest guy on the court in size, but he never let that make a difference. He was always ready to dive in the mix with all the bigger guys and he certainly had no problem taking it right to the defense. Cole was very big, however, when it came to heart and leadership. I might have been taller than he, but I always looked up to him. He was big enough and smart enough that he didn’t need to do what everyone else was doing. He was himself and that was enough. My best memories of Cole will be those on the court. He was always so full of energy. He could laugh at anything and I can’t remember him without a smile. There is not an instance when I can recall him being upset with anyone. I will always smile when I think of some of the shots he could hit. No one else in the world could have sunk them. Cole seemed like a rocket breaking free of the Earth’s gravity. Nothing could stop him. He had just started his surge upward in his basketball career. Starting on the varsity team as a junior he was prepared to help lead the Rebels into a victorious season. He still will help lead us onward. This season, the team will wear black bands on our jerseys as a tribute to Cole. Also his jersey, number twenty, will be retired. Cole was a winner. The world needs winners. I hope that everyone, especially all of us on the ball team, can learn from Cole’s example on how to think, act, and live, then take it into our own lives. As the greatest tribute of all to our fallen teammate we can ask God to grant each of us a measure of Cole’s dedication, energy, and love of the game to carry onto the hardwood this season. In this way, Cole will live on in each of us. He will be a part of our team forever. Shortly after hearing the tragic news about Cole, I noticed the quote by major league pitcher, David Dravecky, on my daily sports calendar: "We can’t go back no matter how much we ache to do so. All we can do is give thanks for what was… Then saying goodbye to those times and loved ones, we can put our hand in the hand of Him who gave orbit to the sun and the moon and the stars, and trust that He has a course for our lives as well." Thanks for the memories, Cole.
