30 June 2016, Thompson-Boling Arena, Tennessee, USA
There are 161 of us, Pat's former players … and any one of us could be standing up here today. I feel a great deal of humility and responsibility to give you a real sense of who Pat was to us.
We are all hurting. The sadness we are feeling is unexplainable because it seems so unfair. I ask myself why? Why Pat, Lord? Why did you pick her to fight this awful disease? And why did you take one of the finest women to ever set foot on this earth in a short five years?
We looked up to her. She was our coach and our role model, our mentor and our friend. She was a superhero. I can't help but ask these questions.
Honestly, I'm angry. That's how I feel. This disease is awful. Pat would still be coaching on the sidelines today if it weren't for Alzheimer's. I want to find a cure because it killed my coach. It killed her. That's reality.
But I guess that's just it. We are not in control of our final destiny. And we know from Pat's passing that we are never promised tomorrow.
This is where faith comes in and Pat had a ton of it. I have to admit that my road with Pat was not a smooth one but because she had faith, and so did I, I knew that her heart was always in the right place. And for that reason alone, I respected and trusted her.
All of us former players are the lucky ones. We've been given a blessing to have been coached by Pat, to learn from her, to watch her, to go into battle with her, to experience her presence in person through the good times and bad.
We ask ourselves, what are we to learn from this?
You know, we watched film endlessly with Pat. She wanted us to analyze, listen and learn. She would monitor and then wanted us to self-monitor. She would teach us and coach us in those film sessions and wanted us to own our mistakes so that we wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
Because of that we owned our successes and failures. She knew something we didn't and she guided us toward what she knew but always made us finish the last lap.
I believe with my whole heart that Pat would want us to be strong for her during these difficult days that led into and will depart from her death. I know for me personally, she hated when I started to cry. She used to always say, "Quit your cryin' Marciniak." And she said many times after being diagnosed, don't throw a pity party for me. She meant it. There was no room for excuses, not even good ones.
When I first arrived on campus, seeing how visible the Lady Vol program was and how public Pat expected us to be, I felt the need to share with Pat that I grew up with a speech impediment. I stuttered. Therefore I had a great fear of speaking and told her that I would not be comfortable speaking in public and introducing myself. Pat looked at me with her steely stare responded simple, concise and direct and told me to get over it.
I was stunned and offended at her lack of empathy but I learned later that she saw it as an opportunity for me to grow. And she tested me time and time again because from that point on when we would be in any setting and Pat was always the grand marshal of every event or dinner. Pat would say, "Do any of our players have anything to say. Michelle?"
She put me on the spot. She made me speak. She made me face my fears. My biggest accomplishment playing for Pat was not winning a national championship, it was speaking.
Speaking at the Sears trophy presentation and on ESPN immediately following our championship game. Speaking at the White House. Speaking as an entrepreneur and then speaking for Pat whenever I could when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.
The confidence she instilled within me to stand up and speak out was life changing. Pat helped me discover a voice I didn't know I had. If she did this for me, imagine what she did for the 160 other players.
This was Pat at her core. From the compassion she had for Chamique (Holdsclaw) to walk her through her illness to the endless support Pat gave me in being an entrepreneur. Pat was all about her players and finding out ways to help us become better people, better professionals post-career.
Pat had a way at finding just the perfect time to enter and re-enter our lives and offer love and support.
I think Kara (Lawson) said it best when she said that Pat lives in each of us every day.
As I thought about what I wanted to say today, I thought about you, Hazel, a mother who just lost her daughter. I thought about you Tommy and Charles and Kenneth and Linda, siblings who just lost their sister. I thought about you, Tyler, a son who just lost his mother.
As most people know, Tyler was nearly born in my living room during Pat's recruiting visit so we have always shared a special bond.
Tyler, as you might remember, we were at the Sports Illustrated Sportsman of the Year awards in 2011 just after Pat's diagnosis. You and Pat were sitting in the front row that night. I had written a tribute for her that I delivered at the ceremony. As I thought about what to say today, I went back to that tribute because to me, it captured the essence of who Pat was at her core. So here we go:
"Who is this woman"
A bond of everlasting proportion in 1990
A truly unique moment that you and I shared together
His name is Tyler
The amazing blessing you brought into this world
Your son kicking inside of you as you sat in my living room
Toughing it out, as you do with every aspect of your life
I thought, "Who is this woman?"
In my home, 9 months pregnant
Fighting nature to sacrifice for ... for what?
The answer came clear to me as I learned about who you are at your core.
Your sacrifice to sign a recruit in your condition went beyond the norm; it was about 'them', not 'you' Them being the people you were sacrificing for at the University of Tennessee who believed in you, who gave you the opportunity of your lifetime
Fighting for those who entrusted in you to do anything and everything you could to not only win championships but most importantly to influence lives — young and old — family, players, fans, friends, administration, colleagues, former coaches and teammates.
The legacy you built from the ground up was coming into play in my own living room as you chose to grind through the pains of labor and make a trip against the doctor's better judgment.
I was beginning to embark upon a journey in which I would come under the incredible influence of a classy, strong-willed woman in my life.
I soon learned this when I stepped foot on campus, in your office, on your court, into your world.
"Who is this woman?" continually crossed my mind after spending more time with you.
This woman is a fighter.
She's a competitor.
She doesn't accept mediocrity.
She's never satisfied.
I've never met anyone like her.
In her eyes, there was always more.
More perfection.
I didn't think I could ever get it right.
You made every day the greatest challenge of my life.
You made me start over each day.
Perfecting yesterday.
Never looking for tomorrow.
Taking care of today.
Repeating patterns of near perfection.
Just when I thought I was close to receiving your compliment.
You said do it again.
This time do it better.
"Who is this woman?" I thought over and over again.
So surprising to me was what came next.
In so many frustrating tears and sanity checks.
As I was experiencing growing pains like never before.
Searching for my own connection to perfection.
Trying to please you and feeling as if I was failing miserably at every turn.
What I received time and time again when I was at my absolute breaking point.
Was not a compliment from you.
Rather, you hugged my neck.
You cared.
You spent endless hours with me, teaching me.
You showed me you loved me through the time you spent with me.
You said to me, "You'll understand why I am doing this one day."
There's a bigger picture.
Hang in there.
I am pushing you because you can take it.
Because I believe in you.
Because I know you have what it takes.
You said, "Trust me."
I will not allow you to fail under my watch.
You said, I need for you to be tougher.
In my weaker moments, I asked you to ease up on me.
You said, stop your crying.
I cried harder.
I said, I don't think I can do this anymore.
You said, Yes you can, we're getting there.
You said, "Trust me." There's a reason for this.
In my own kicking and fighting in trying to understand what you were attempting to get out of me.
I was always listening. You had my attention.
You kept saying it will be worth it. I need for you to get through this with me.
"Who is this woman?" How did she command such a presence in my soul from the very moment we met, a presence that only intensified over the following months and years?
All the while, teaching me the greatest lessons of my life:
It wasn't about me.
It was about my teammates.
It was about the Tennessee program.
It was about others.
It was about showing up and bringing your best every single day.
Learning more.
Here comes the full circle.
You come into the Tennessee program as a superstar
And you leave as a champion, not just on the basketball court but in life
What a powerful revelation and feeling to understand the tremendous difference between the two.
You didn't just make us better; you made us the best at who we were trying to become.
You were not only being tough; you were teaching toughness.
You never did anything for your own glory; you worked your magic through selfless acts of kindness.
You didn't raise your voice just for the sake of it; you increased your tone to demand excellence.
You didn't rush any process, you taught patience and urgency through a painstaking refining regimen.
Not only were you a perfectionist; you were a master at sculpting your masterpiece.
For a woman who has accomplished what you have in basketball, you had every right to display arrogance; instead you displayed the most precious humility.
Together, we won. And won it all. Accomplishments we've all celebrated through all the days of our lives.
What I learned, though, is the one thing I carry with me as I remember you telling me that "I will understand one day."
Here it is:
Life is not about accomplishments, wins or losses; it's about investing in people and relationships.
The greatest reward in life is a result of sacrificing yourself for another human being in order to help them become their best.
I now see the bigger picture
Pat, you've sacrificed for us all and now it's our turn to pay it forward.
You fought the battle that allowed the game of basketball to be what it is today.
You fought the battle to create opportunities for us and you taught us how to win.
And you courageously fought the battle of Alzheimer's and publicly put a face to this dreadful disease so that the world will join us in the fight to find a cure.
Pat, we are so much better because of you. We do see who you were and from this day forward we will band together and tuck you in and carry you with us in our souls, forever.