It’s Game Time, Boys!

Here is today’s strategy… 

• Only throw the ball to the boys who are wearing the same color as you! 
• Pretend you have a little bit of glue on your hands & don’t drop the ball!
• Run like you’re being chased (’cause you ARE being chased)
• and don’t let ‘em catch you
• Make sure you run the right way, too.
• Score points.  Points are awesome.
• Have fun!
• Win!

Everyone’s a critic & when your team loses, those critics become Monday Morning Quarterbacks.  We should have passed more.  We should have done this, done that, & surely we would have won.  My husband works 85 hours a week.  He sacrifices time with his family and works his tail off to win games, to keep a roof over our heads, to teach & encourage athletes.  Can you imagine working 85 hours a week to get ready for 60 minutes of play?

I don’t mean to be a poor sport, but losing in college football means something much different to a coach’s family.  There are two kinds of college coaches.  Those who have BEEN fired & those who WILL BE fired.  It’s more than just being in a bad mood on Sunday.  You know what?  They don’t even have time to be in any mood because they spend all day Sunday watching film until their eyeballs fall out.  Then they spend all day Monday making plans for the next game.  Another 85 hour work week. 

Monday Morning Quarterbacks Beware:  this wife is taking a stand.  Please keep your game plans to yourself.  Save it for your fantasy football leagues.  My coach can handle it without your criticism.  If anything, show your support.  Offer an encouraging word.  Thank him for the hours he puts in. 

Lastly, to all those MMQB’s out there — if you really want to help, there’s a bit of grass that needs tending.  Okay.  That’s it.  I’m done.  No more talk about football.  Seriously, wish me luck — I’m about to mow the lawn.

Two-a-Days

I am not athletic.   I don’t like to sweat & I’m not a fan of humidity.  I enjoy watching others be athletic while sipping on diet coke.  Coach loves exerting himself on a hot & humid day — lucky for him because today is the start of “Two-a-Days”.  Practice #6 this morning & practice #7 tonight. 

“Two-a-Day” is not limited to just football.  There are many things that I do twice a day if not thrice a day. 

My favorite “Two-a-Day” in this house is NAPTIME. 

Like I said before, I am not athletic.  It never stopped me from trying as a kid, but I was more of a neighborhood athletics kind of kid.  We played street hockey and backyard soccer where everyone was included.  No sidelines, no bench, no hurt feelings.  The rules weren’t always clear and some rules were amended to suit the situation and sometimes people would quit and take their ball with them, but mostly it was just good fun. 

I did try my hand at organized sports for a few years, but I was never very good.  When I was in the fifth grade, my dad took me to softball tryouts.  The coach asked me to throw the ball to him so I picked it up and tossed it to him underhand.  I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face as he lowered his shaking head to the ground, hand above his brow.  Everyone made a team and I think they let me play outfield a few times.  As a Bluejay, the best part was being in the dugout because the new girl, Erin, taught us all her favorite camp songs.  Contrary to our coach’s belief, songs about frogs are ABSOLUTELY appropriate for softball games. 

Down by the banks of the hanky panky

Where the bullfrogs jump from banky to banky

With an E-E-I-I-O-O-Um

Down by the riverside… kerplunk!

 A few years later, I decided to tryout for soccer.  I’m really not sure why I did that but the priest of our church was our coach.  Again, I was more of a silly cheerleader.  In high school, I played in an age 18-35 year old indoor soccer league.  Some players had titles like “goalie” or “sweep” – I was the girl who made the mixed tapes and danced in defense land or whatever you call it.  You know, in the back by that white little line.  Our games were always LATE, LATE, LATE at night.  Our official team name was “Motley Crew” but we liked referring to ourselves as “Chuck’s Chicas”.  Chuck thought that made him sound like a pimp. 

There you have it — the uncoordinated football wife.  Can’t do a cartwheel, can’t really throw a ball anymore… 

Wait a minute.  Hold up.  I totally forgot!  Did you know that I can rollerskate backwards?  (And forwards.)  I can generally ride my bike without falling off AND I can iceskate!  I’m a good walker.  I don’t even trip very often.  While I can’t ski, I am really good at sled riding and I am excellent at kickball.  That’s talent, baby. 

Want to know what I’m going to wear to the first football game? 

It won’t be a winter coat.

When Coach and I were first dating, he invited me & my little brother to attend a game.  It was mid-November in Pennsylvania, the air was cold, but the sun was shining.  As we got out of my car outside the stadium, my brother announced that he wouldn’t be needing his coat.  He thought his three layers would be enough.  As his older & wiser sister, I saved him a trip by offering to carry his coat.  So, wearing two pairs of pants, two shirts, a wool sweater, two pairs of socks, boots, my coat, a hat, and now carrying my brother’s coat and a wool blanket, we retrieved our tickets and found a seat in the stadium.  Two minutes after kick-off, someone thought he might like to have his coat after all.  By half-time, we were so cold we were practically sitting on top of each other wrapped like a sibling burrito in the wool blanket.  Coldest darn day of my life. 

Fast forward to the next football season and I was sitting on hot, metal bleachers in Virginia with MerMer.  We both got a sunburn.  Here’s the other difference between football in the North vs. the South.  Maybe it has nothing to do with geography, but our football fans like to dress up.  Hair is done, makeup on, shirt is pressed, heels are high.  For the last few years, I have been trying my best to also wear impractical shoes. 

Last year, I really just wore whatever fit because at our season opener I was 38 weeks pregnant.  Or was it 39?  Either way, I was a tank.  The ambulance crew got nervous when they saw me.  Babycakes attended her first football game when she was just 12 days old.  I kept her all bundled up in her stroller & since it was my first time out, I wanted to attempt to “fit in”.  Black (maternity) pants, a red sweater, & black wedges — I felt so good.  By half time, I considered going barefoot.  Third quarter, I was wishing I could sit.  By the time we got home, my mother-in-law took care of business while I just layed on my back. 

Now, this year… I am feeling incredible.  I can’t wait to pick out some new spirit wear, but the impractical shoes might need to go.  You can’t catch a runaway baby wearing three inch heels. 

Here’s the danger in leaving something behind…

It’s official — Spring has finally arrived.  Windows have been flung open wide and the smell of fresh cut grass permeates the air.  My lillies are growing, our Dogwood is budding, and the Azaleas are already showing their pink.  A mother Wren has built a nest on our porch and her sweet song fills our home.  Ah, but the true sounds & sights of Spring are… 

“Hut, Hut, Hike!” 

& the crashing of helmets.

Our loyal fans came out of hibernation for our scrimmage on Saturday.  Whistles blew, boys hustled, & children played.  Mothers winced, fathers encouraged, and siblings watched in awe of big brothers.  Coaches’ wives… well, we chase babies & feed babies & try our hardest to remember the names of our players & parents. 

A day at the stadium is a day well spent.  Our Spring scrimmage celebrates…

hardwork

determination &

friendship

When coaches congregate to talk about football, it’s much different than the average fan talking about the game.  I’ll admit it — I know practically NOTHING about college football except that I like it.  During our games, I always sit with my MerMer & between the two of us we can usually determine who has the ball & what down we’re on. 

Imagine my surprise when we sat down to dinner one evening with an “old coaching buddy” & his wife and SHE began talking shop! 

“Are you running the spread option?”

Is that cream cheese or jam?

I listened in amazement as she brilliantly rambled off football terms I had heard before in conversations I was not privy to.  I try not to ask too many questions because mostly I won’t understand the answer. 

Since having a baby, I have a problem keeping track of “our” (Coach’s) football schedule.  I must have asked him at least a dozen times about Spring practice…

When does it start?

How long does it last?

Each time, Coach looks at me bewildered…  this is NOT my first year, so why can’t I remember this?  It occurred to me in the middle of the night, while rocking Babycakes that when he said, “Friday”, he meant Friday.  As in THIS Friday, as in TOMORROW! 

One of the best things about Spring practice for me is that the coachs’ wives seem to come out of hibernation.  We show up towards the end of a practice with a blanket, maybe a snack, and just visit.  The next best thing, is seeing “our boys” & a close third is the smell of fresh cut grass. 

Guess I better mark practice on my calendar — there’s always a chance that I might forget… again. 

Here it is March 1 — my spring flowers are just starting to peek out and the weather channel is forecasting 3-6″ of snow!  It’s been raining like mad for the past two days and we used the miserable weather as an excuse to skip church this morning.  Instead, Coach, Babycakes, & I made a trip to Aldi’s grocery store to load up on food for the week.  Would you believe that there was a line to get in?

We filled our cart & headed to the check-out.  Coach was wearing a team fleece… and that’s when I saw it.  The man behind us, trying to be subtle, was clearly trying to see what school Coach represents. 

Then he asked the usual questions, “Oh, did you play football there?  I see, you’re a coach.  What position do you coach?  You’re the head coach?  Cool.  So, how’s the team looking for next season?”  We went in to buy chicken & ended up hosting a press conference!