It sure is refreshing, darn it, to be around Fitch coach Mike Ellis

Groton Ah, the football sideline. Quite the education. Part fire drill, part revival meeting and faithful fodder for a sequel to the classic George Carlin skit, "Seven Words You Can't Say On Television."

Seriously. It's hard, among the chaos, for coaches not to curse. Frequently. It's like part of the floor show.

The personal favorite: Sean Payton, the coach of the Saints, is particular about chewing Juicy Fruit gum. A sideline lackey gave him something spearmint one game. NFL Films captured Payton hollering, "Juicy ... Bleeping ... Fruit!"

Now if you can be profane over gum, imagine what the rest of the game might bring?

All of which makes Mike Ellis, the coach at Fitch, a unique kind of cat. He doesn't swear. At all. He says things like "heck," "darnit" and "son of a gun" under the worst of circumstances. He hasn't hit "golly" yet, but is it really that far away?

I mean, is there anyone left who really says "heck" and "darnit" anymore?

Mike Ellis does. It's all part of the charm. Put it this way: If you ever need to know how a coach should act, just look at whatever Ellis happens to be doing at the time.

It was a memorable September for Ellis, whose team earned some votes in the state media and coaches' polls this week. The Falcons, hearkening happier days of program lore and legend, are 4-0. They pounded Norwich

Free Academy last week and have a bye week to ponder the hope and wonder of October, November and perhaps December.

Or as Ellis might say: This is a heck of an opportunity to add another darn banner to the wall.

I was on the sideline the other night thoroughly enjoying myself. Maybe it's the karmic wonder of it all. If you do right, eventually it comes back to you. Or maybe it's this: We need more people like Mike Ellis. Not just in coaching and teaching. But everywhere. People who set the good example. Who teach it. Live it. Just by being who they are.

It's been a tumultuous week — again — in the good ol' U.S. of A. And I must admit: I've grown weary of the "thoughts and prayers" crowd. Nice sentiment? Sure. But maddeningly hollow. Thoughts and prayers. Nice sound bite. But in lieu of your thoughts and prayers, how about, you know, you actually do something to affect change?

Maybe you volunteer. Help some kids. Think before you hit "send." Donate your time. Or money. Befriend someone who doesn't act, look or sound like you. Set the right examples.

I can't imagine it's easy to be a high school kid. Never has been. But now? With peer pressure elevated to dizzying levels because of social media, helicopter parents and other societal stressors, kids need everyday role models who push them toward the right choices more than ever.

This is where the football sideline bears so much metaphorical richness. Life isn't skipping down the Yellow Brick Road. And isn't it nice there's a guy like Ellis, leader of impressionable adolescents, who can illustrate such grace amid the chaos?

Ellis has done a very smart thing this season: run the option offense in an era when seemingly everyone else runs the spread. The option, requiring perpetual discipline, has always been difficult to stop. It's impossible now because the dearth of teams who run it have made its concepts less familiar.

But Ellis' true brilliance shines through his character and the way he comports himself around his players and coaches. The public often judges coaches on wins and losses, Xs and Os. I'd rather my kid learn other things. Life things.

News of Fitch's impending victory last Friday quickly made its way through Twitter. It even inspired Ellis' lifelong friend, Mike O'Farrell, the director of communications at Lawrence + Memorial Hospital, to create the hashtag #ellis in his friend's honor. Love it. We shall make #ellis part of every Fitch update the rest of the season.

Or maybe we'll just go with #darnit. What the heck.

Ellis’ true brilliance shines through his character and the way he comports himself around his players and coaches. The public often judges coaches on wins and losses, Xs and Os. I’d rather my kid learn other things. Life things.