Teachers these days have it hard: pay cuts, furlough days, state testing stress, lack of funds for supplies. It's a wonder college grads even take the certification test, let alone actually accept a position as a teacher, with all the negative press the world's oldest profession gets these days. But every teacher knows that if you do the job long enough, the rewards will come. Struggling readers will master their first books, math-a-phobes will conquer algebra, and if we are lucky, those state testing gods will smile down on us fondly. The same is true for coaches, who essentially teach the same principles, skills, and fundamentals; who exhibit leadership, love, and hope on a field or court instead of in a classroom.
Last Friday, Coach got a call from a former player, and we had a fist-pump moment. One of his former student-athletes received an offer from a Division I school to play football after graduation, the final piece to a three summer puzzle. With that piece in place, this student-athlete has fulfilled a promise he made to himself to work as hard as he had to in order to reach his goal: college football. I was pretty proud (did I mention the fist-pump was mine?) when I got the text from Coach who had just gotten the text from River, and I had one of those flash-before-my-eyes moments: off-season workouts, texts with questions at night, film watching and discussion. It all paid off, and it's been fun to watch.
Of course I'm proud of River and excited to see what his future holds, but I have a little more invested in this whole thing. Tuesday morning all of Atlanta was made privy to the unfortunate decision to drink and drive by none other than one of our most gloried Falcons. Well, I have little eyes watching all around me, absorbing anything and everything football related, and I find a whole lot of comfort in the fact that for this one massive error made by Michael Turner, an even better story is unfolding right in front of my three boys' eyes.
When your dad is a football coach, your heroes don't have to be elusive and high paid; for my boys, their hero is a phone call and a Saturday ticket away; they are the boys putting in extra hours in the weight room and hitting the bleachers when they finish. Their heroes play past the hurt, cram for honor roll, and know when to say thanks. And for all those first year teachers and coaches hoping to make a difference in some student's life, know that sometimes it's the students who make a difference in us.
