Yesterday it was suggested in my presence that I was going to be coaching girls’ sports next year.
Okay. Okay. You can stop laughing now. Stop. Stop please.
And I was all, “Ha! You do not want me to coach.” Because honestly, what we’ve got there is a failure to communicate the fact that I was the girl who was terrorized by the snobby, athletic girls. Do you really think I should be allowed to make athletes run for an hour or more, depending on my whim? It’s like letting Sergeant Hartman loose on a pack of new recruits. And R. Lee Ermey’s got nothing on me.
Trust me. He never had his bra dropped in the toilet.
I’ll never be a coach, though I once considered cheerleading for the same reasons mentioned above, but I was 16 then and now I’m over it. There would be screaming (most assuredly) and when I scream I lose my voice. And when I am unable to speak at the speed and level that I’m accustomed to, I get cranky. So…no.
My husband though? I’d say it’s in his blood, but I’m not aware of any other coaches in his family. Maybe it’s the military background. I won’t try to describe how coaching feels for him, because I don’t know, but I do know that it has some ups and downs, much like teaching, and you may have a long week, month, or year of it before getting that one moment that reminds you why you are doing what you’re doing.
Ever since watching the first episode of Friday Night Lights, Tami Taylor has been on my short list of TV heroes. She’s got fabulous hair, that killer wardrobe, she’s a great mom, and is always kicking hineys around where they need to be in her role as a principal.
What she also does a great job of showing is just how challenging it is to be a coach’s wife. Now, I’m not saying I have any clue what it’s like to be married to a football coach. In Texas. Our situation is completely different. But Connie Britton’s performance captures so much of the hardship that goes on inside coaching families. If there was ever a model for a supportive and strong coach’s wife — there she is.
I’m not suffering. I’m learning. And lucky for me, my husband is coaching something with a fairly short season at a level that is not terribly competitive. So we’re good. But still…the getting home late, seeing each other a couple of hours a day (at most) on game days…it’s so weird for a couple who, one year ago, were still just newlyweds.
Kevin is doing something good for our family. Coaching a sport gets a modest, but fairly decent stipend added on to his paycheck. I can’t complain. We don’t have kids right now and our responsibilities are pretty minimal. He’s helping us by working toward one of our goals — being debt free within the next year. We’ve discussed it though and if it comes down to a little extra money and our family missing out on a husband and father, we’ll choose to have him home. We can deal with that when it happens though.
I’ve thought a lot about it and I really do not know how the wives of college and professional coaches make it. Some superhuman strength, I guess. That is not a life I could lead. Please, God, don’t ever call me to it. (Though I know if he did, he’d make a way.) So, Kevin, don’t get any funny ideas about the big leagues, ‘kay? Thanks, hon’.
Oklahoma girl through-and-through. Writer, aspiring domestic goddess and totalitarian dictator. Taking on the world one carb-induced coma at a time. Founder of GodlyGals, a ministry for women established in 2002. Co-host of Picture Shows & Petticoats. 
