It's funny. My husband, Coach, has given time, money, talent, and so much more to a profession that can stab a man in the back quicker than he can glance at his playbook. He dreams in HUDL, charts plays while he watches college football, and never stops looking for ways to improve what he does. And he does it all knowing the knife could slash at any time. He also does it all with the support of one grumpy wife and three amazing boys who think their dad is the best coach ever. Those three future players live not just for Friday nights, but for weight room sessions, spring drills, and bus rides on Friday. For a young boy, not many things can beat riding to an away game with a bus full of stand in big brothers. Our boys learned to crawl on game fields; they have ridden more tractors than some farmers, and one has been know to fall asleep clutching a pigskin. It's life with Coach, and we wouldn't trade it for anything.
So when someone questions his motives, doubts his interests as he sets about securing a future that will allow those three boys to continue down the path they've known for so long, I get a little angry. Sure, coaching is a tough profession. No one likes to see his Dad's name slandered in the paper. No one likes to hear negative comments after a particularly tough loss. But nothing is better than standing on the sidelines when time runs out and Dad's team is the victor. Nothing beats being part of a team that practices together, wins together, and sometimes loses together. Nothing is better than a phone call from a former player letting us know that he is leaving us tickets for this weekend's college game. So to suggest that being a coach's kid or a coach's wife is somehow sub par, and that to subject us to it is selfish, well, let me invite you to take a walk in our shoes.
Hours are long during the season, but the boys get to spend a good bit of that time at the field, in the field house, in the weight room watching their dad work. Not many professions have a "bring your kid to work" day every day. Ours does:-)
They have the privilege of watching their dad yell, whistle, and demand the best from boys who aren't much older than they are. They also get to witness the laughs, slaps on the back, and video game playing that happens with those same boys off the field.
They sit in on study hall sessions where coaches insist that their players excel off the field as well as on the field.
They learn what it means to buy into a work ethic; that playing football is more than just throwing and catching a ball. It is studying playbooks, watching film, and LISTENING to a room full of coaches.
And because they have always been coach's kids, they know that time is fleeting. That time runs out in games, just as it does in certain towns and schools. They learn to invest in a place and in people, even though they might not be around for the breakthrough. They learn to look forward to new things, new people, and new places, because if there is one thing we have all learned from being at many schools in many years, there are good people everywhere.
Life with Coach includes lots of things, and moving vans are one of them. And we wouldn't trade it for anything.
