During his high school years, my youngest son played point guard on a homeschool basketball team in Asheville, North Carolina. His coach, Tom, was a physician and a father of four boys, two of whom were also on my son’s team. He was a great coach who took no guff from the boys, ran disciplined practices, and knew the game well enough to produce winning teams during the entire time my son played for him. For away games, Tom, as well as several other parents, would drive the team to cities like Winston-Salem and Greenville. Unlike those other moms and dads, however, he would spend his hours in the car talking to the boys about a variety of subjects: world politics, moral rectitude, and saving money, to name a few. He became well known among both parents and players for these conversations, or, as some players called them, classes. One …