Rick Baggett Article (OR)

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http://www.oregonlive.com/metrosouth/or ... xml&coll=7

Mastering life's ups and downs
Thursday, May 19, 2005
STEVE MAYES
OREGON CITY -- Mr. Fixit sits in a folding camp chair and surveys his world -- a place where gravity is the enemy and anyone can fly.

On late afternoons in early May, many of Oregon's best high school pole vaulters seek his advice.

They flock to Rick Baggett -- to fine-tune their form and for encouragement -- in their quest for a championship.

Baggett helped train many of the kids. Some have been under his wing for years.

Now, late in the season, Baggett becomes Mr. Fixit, the guy who reinstills confidence and reminds them they can clear the highest bar.

"This time of year all the work is done," Baggett said. Strength and speed are no longer the goals.

"The season is almost over. It's time to quit thinking and just do it," said Baggett, a message he will repeat many times as track season builds to its finale.

Baggett is a magnet who attracts serious high school and college pole vaulters from throughout the Northwest.

"Eventually, they all come to see Rick," said Terry Mathews, who coached high school track for more than 30 years in Compton, Calif., and now assists Baggett. "He's very technical, very scientific. He leaves nothing to chance," Mathews said.

A true believer

If there is one thing Baggett does not like, it is his reputation as a "pole vault guru" -- a title frequently bestowed on him by reporters.

Don't call me a guru," Baggett said. "A guru is all-seeing and all-knowing."

Last year, some of Baggett's athletes had T-shirts made that said "I learned from the guru" and featured Baggett's head on a pole-vaulting stick figure.

If Baggett is not a guru, he certainly is an evangelist.

He routinely asks people he meets whether they've ever considered pole vaulting.

"He's been trying to get my dad to pole vault for two years now," said Alli Dittmar, a Gladstone High senior.

"I think everyone needs to pole vault. It's fun. Ask any of the kids," Baggett said. "All it is is jumping over something with a stick."

If Baggett is an evangelist, then the big metal building on South Maplelane Road is his temple.

Inside is a pole vault pit, Baggett's collection of 220 poles, workout equipment and a well-worn four-lane wooden running track.

Baggett, 51, built his first training center in the back yard of his Southeast Portland home in 1991. He sold the property and used the profits to finance the Oregon City project.

The training center is home to Baggett's Willamette Striders Track Club, which has more than 200 dues-paying members.

The building is a work in progress, he said. Mounds of red dirt surround the structure, which looks like it shelters farm equipment.

"This isn't just some square dance bar," Mathews said. "This is his 'Field of Dreams.' "

The sum of its parts

Some coaches believe that jumping, jumping and more jumping will bring success, said Baggett, who believes otherwise.

Baggett dismantles the pole vault into its components. He assigns exercises and drills that develop each student's strength, speed, jumping ability and technique. Then he reassembles the pieces and concentrates on flaws.

"Each of the kids is going to have a weakness," Baggett said.

His expectations are simple: train hard, train smart, jump high, have fun.

"He's a jokester. He's always upbeat and happy to be here," said Lakeridge High's Ally Wojciechowski, a favorite to win this year's 4A girl's pole vault title. "He makes you feel really good. You can be yourself," Wojciechowski said. "He really cares about us."

There are no hard edges to his coaching. He's not a dictator. He doesn't play favorites. His criticisms are gentle, but he does not coddle.

"When they perform poorly, I don't try to make them feel better," Baggett said. "You can't be perfect every time."

Some days elite athletes share the runway with beginners. One day the veterans wait while a 10-year-old girl sprints toward the pit using a pole that looks like a giant pool cue.

Baggett watches a newcomer -- Amanda McCluskey from tiny Damascus Christian High, which has just 82 students -- and said one day she will soar.

Baggett is confident he could get Amanda jumping high enough to win the 1A title -- if he had the time. But the state meet is less than two weeks away.

"I know I can get her over 10 feet. She knows how to run. I just have to teach her how to plant the pole a little bit," Baggett said.

Everything is a work in progress."

Ups and downs

Baggett began his jumping career when he was a fourth-grader. His field of dreams then was a pasture next to a Hayward, Calif., subdivision.

"A bunch of us did all sports there in the field and pole vaulting was one of them. We went to a nursery close by and stole 2-by-2s for uprights and poles. We got caught stealing them and the lady cussed us out but then told us to bring them back when we were done. We did," Baggett said. "We got up to seven feet, but no higher. It hurt too much landing, then rolling on the ground."

He took up pole vaulting after his family moved to Pasco, Wash., in the 1960s.

The good times tangled with the bad.

During his senior year at Pasco High School his younger brother, Ronnie, died in a car wreck. That season, Baggett set a high school meet record that stood for 27 years.

The following year he cleared 16 feet and set a freshman record at Washington State University. Three days later he broke his arm in practice.

His mother died during his sophomore year. Injuries interfered with his training and cost him his scholarship. He dropped out of college and moved to California, hoping to qualify for the 1976 Olympics.

Again, injuries sidelined him.

"My legs wouldn't work without pain, so I retired," Baggett said.

"It was a pretty tough time," he said. "There were some really high expectations and some big letdowns."

He lost vision in his left eye after a 1977 construction accident.

He downplays the incident. No need to dwell on setbacks.

"Everything is a big picture, anyway," Baggett said.

Adversity is not insurmountable. It's just another high bar.

What it takes

Alli Dittmar bounces into the training center on the Friday afternoon before her district competition.

At first, Dittmar doesn't focus on warming up and jumping. She wanders around, periodically gabbing with Baggett. Buzzing like a bee around a flower. "I'm a really social person," she said.

Hey, Rick, when do I get my own parking spot?" she asked.

"When you win state," Baggett said.

Next they talk about the district meet.

What do you have to do at district?" Baggett asked.

"In the words of you, all I have to do is shut up and pole vault," Dittmar said, smiling.

"I think too much when I pole vault," Dittmar said later. "If I say, 'My step is off,' he says, 'No, it's your brain,' " she said. "He makes sure you work hard and you push yourself but he doesn't pressure you."

Savannah Walruff, a Clackamas High junior, is having trouble with her grip, and her frustration shows. She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling. She puffs at strands of her hair that worked their way loose from her ponytail.

She tells Baggett about her situation. He is impassive and dispenses two seconds' worth of advice. "Tape it 'til it works."

That's all she gets.

Savannah sits and swathes one end of the pole with tape.

Her grip may or may not be the problem, Baggett said. "She's too panicked coming into the last part of her jump."

"It's an ownership issue," Baggett said later. "She's got to be responsible."

Accountability is a guiding principle.

"If there's something wrong, fix it. If there's a rock on the runway, move it. If your pants are too tight, get a new pair," Baggett said.

"The question is, what are you going to do next time?" Baggett said. "It's not somebody else's fault if you don't make the Olympics."