“A good coach can change a game, but a great coach can change a life.” I’m not sure who first said that, but I know it’s true—because I’ve lived it. Growing up involved in football, I’ve had coaches who yelled and simply ran drills, and I’ve had coaches who made lasting impacts on my life. It’s the good ones—the ones who saw us not just as athletes but as young men—who left the biggest marks. Those are the mentors I aspire to be. Volunteering is something I do not feel I do enough of, but it is a meaningful part of my life, shaped in large part by the example set by football coach, Coach Lit. During my senior year, while my mom was battling cancer, he saw the emotional weight I was carrying. He didn’t just support me on the field—he helped cover gear fees and became someone I could turn to for guidance and strength. One of the greatest things he did for me was encouraging me to give back. He got me involved in volunteering with park cleanups and football camps and taught me something powerful: that helping others can be healing for you, too. That’s a lesson I’ve carried with me ever since. Even when I haven’t been able to coach formally due to school, work, and my moms sickness, I’ve tried my best to volunteer at youth football and wrestling camps in my hometown. I’ve learned that younger kids look up to high school athletes like we’re superheroes. That responsibility—to lead by example, to be someone they can look up to—means a lot to me. Volunteering in that way allows me to pass on the lessons I’ve learned from my coach while helping build confidence and character in the next generation. One of the greatest volunteer experiences I’ve had lately is with Ben Albanese, a 19-year-old with Down syndrome who is nonverbal. His mom reached out to me through my aunt, saying she was looking for someone close to Ben’s age who could be a positive influence. Though she had only seen me through social media, she said she could tell I was the kind of person who could make a difference. That meant a lot to me. Since then, Ben and I have spent time together shooting hoops, bowling, and playing video games—just doing things that make him smile. Though Ben doesn’t speak, he’s taught me that leadership and connection don’t require words. His presence is powerful, and I will miss him deeply when I head off to college. Another passion of mine is classic car restoration. During my sophomore year, I bought a 1965 Ford Mustang that was more rust than muscle. Every night after football practice, I found myself in the garage working on bringing it back to life. My goal was to have it running by my senior year homecoming game, a goal I can proudly say I met. Restoring classic cars might seem like just a hobby, but I see it as another way to volunteer and give back. I love talking with kids about the restoration process and encouraging them to pursue their interests off the field. Volunteering has taught me that giving back isn’t just about doing good for others—it’s also about growing as a person. It builds character, strengthens communities, and creates connections that go beyond ourselves. For me, giving back isn’t just something I do—it’s who I strive to be. I want to be the kind of person—and one day, coach—who changes more than just a game. I want to change lives.

Vroom! My mom swears that is the first word I spoke as a child. My name is Cristian Martins, and I go by my middle name, Brady. For as long as I can remember, I have always had an obsessive interest in cars. From the cartoons I watched as an infant to the toys I played with, everything in my young world had to revolve around cars. One of the greatest stories my mom tells stems from when I was in preschool. I was just four years old and the teachers had concerns that I wasn’t engaged with most activities. They apologized to my mom for never having any finger paintings or macaroni art to send home to hang on the fridge because they simply couldn't pull me away from playing with cars. There was a young student teacher in the class, and she came up with the brilliant idea to let me use the cars as a means to make art. She squirted some paint on a paper plate and then allowed me to drag the wheels from the toy cars through the paints, making the coolest refrigerator art made of tire treads. My mom loved this teacher's kindness and innovation so much, that the art not only made it to our fridge but became framed artwork in our house. This just goes to show how much cars have meant to me and how supportive my family has been with my love of cars and my decision to seek this career path. As the years have ticked away, my love, passion, and thirst for automotive knowledge has grown exponentially, coming to a head at the end of my sophomore year when my mom and I bought a 1965 Wide Body Convertible Ford Mustang (that was originally being sold for parts) and I began the restoration process. Every night after football and wrestling practice, I found myself in our garage working on bringing the Mustang back to life. From rebuilding the engine and transmission to electrical, and everything in between, my goal was to have it up and running by my senior prom, a goal I can proudly say I met. It was through the restoration process of the Mustang, which I affectionately call "Mamala" in honor of my mustang-loving great-grandmother, that I was able to put together a portfolio of the transformation of the car. That portfolio, helped me be one of only 40 students accepted into the automotive restoration program at McPherson College, the country's only college to offer a 4-year bachelor of science degree in that field. I am so excited to have found my passion at such an early age and have already started my next project, a 1980 Ford F150 Stepside, in honor of my grandfather who drove one. As I venture into this next chapter of my life, I am so blessed to have my family's support with my career path, and can't wait to hit the ground running in the fall.