Posts Tagged ‘Football’

Coach’s Wife

The minute I knew I’d be a Coach’s Wife forever came almost two years ago when my husband returned home from his first practice. The gig: First Grade Little Dribblers Basketball.

ME: “So, how’d it go?”

LOML: “Oh. My. GOD! It was like . . . like . . . Ohmygod. There’s this one kid. And he’s like, I don’t know, supertall. And he’s like . . . like . . . OhmyGOD hon, I think KOBE is trapped in this little kid’s body!”

ME: “Okay, so, you’ve got one kid on your team.”

LOML: “Shut up.”

But I knew. I KNEW.

He was hooked.

And then at the first game, I saw first hand how it would always be with him.

He felt the pain and disappointment of every missed shot. And the joy and excitement of every basket and free throw made. He was like a visual equalizer, bouncing and moving to the pulse of the team.

Even the parents in line at the snack bar could see it. It was an “away” game, so they didn’t know him personally. Behind me, I overheard one parent said to another, “That coach is friggin’ HILARIOUS. Dude’s all covered in sweat and shit from being all over the friggin’ court.” And then the other parent said, “Dude’s gettin’ the shit done, though. Hell he’s motivatin’ ME and I ain’t even a player!”

Fast forward to October 2010.

Jake was still smack in the middle of football season when the LOML decided to coach basketball again.

New school. New team. New drama. (Yes, there’s drama with 2nd grade basketball.) And even though there was a point during the season when I had to physically keep him from going after a parent who picked a fight with him not once, but TWICE in a span of 5 minutes (in addition to using profanity in front of Benny), he STILL maintained he was having the time of his life. Most of the team’s parents also maintained that if it weren’t for Troy (and his awesome assistant coaches), they probably wouldn’t have signed their kids up to play.

And at the end of basketball season, I settled in to what I thought would be a nice break before football when he got a request to coach little league.

And all I can say about THAT is I hated that he chose to do it, but glad he did it. If that makes sense at all.

Two weeks after the last baseball game, we signed Jake up for football. At the same time,Troy submitted his application for a coaching position on Jake’s team. A few days after that, he got a call to meet with the head coach.

When he returned home, I could tell he seemed disappointed.

“They’ve got too many apps for Jake’s team. The guy wants me to coach up one level because they need more people up there. I think he’s worried that I’ll let being Jake’s dad get in the way of coaching the rest of the team.”

And, after much discussion, we came to the conclusion that it was all or nothing – either coach Jake’s team, or take a seat in the stands.Troy called the coach to let him know, and that was the last we had heard of it.

In the mean time,Troy continued to toss the ball around and run drills with the boys in the front yard, getting Jake ready for the upcoming season.

Then yesterday, after I returned home from the grocery store, the LOML said, “What’s for dinner? Coach is HUNGRY.”

It only took a second for me to realize what he was telling me.

He got the job.

ME: “Wait . . . What?!!”

LOML: “Yep! I’ll be an assistant. Probably O-Line.”

And then he smiled. And his blue eyes did that thing that they always did when he knew he’d be coaching.
L

Father and son playing football in front yard.

 

ME, to Benny: “What’s mama’s name?”

BENNY: “Kaftheen.”

ME: “And what’s daddy’s name?”

BENNY AND JAKE [Together, in unison]: “Coach.”

18

07 2011

GAME ON!

The LOML won this handy dandy beverage cooler for me 12 years ago at the California State Fair by putting a dart through a balloon. This was waaay back when no one cared about the Colts and Peyton Manning had just graduated from Tennessee.

The carnie tried to give us a 49er cooler, but I asked for the Colts one instead.

“Shi-itt . . . I’d-a given that to you for free.”

Sorry Saints fans. You got a good story and all, but the Colts are just plain better. Buh-bye now.

07

02 2010

Frankism Thursday: The Trouble With Black Quarterbacks

As the NFL football season comes to a close, I thought I’d share another funny story about my father. (Remember, in my very first “Frankisms” post, I stated that “. . . most of them [Frankisms] come from what he interprets as what you said and then stating what he thinks you said, instead of asking you to repeat what you said for clarification. He thinks its funnier that way.”)

I also may have mentioned before that, when I was growing up, Sunday breakfast in our house was a pretty big deal. My dad would read the paper pretty soon after the rooster crowed (we really didn’t have a rooster, but he got up early), and when he was done, he’d start cutting potatoes, whisking eggs, chopping peppers and onions, and about an hour later, a feast was awaiting us.

Then, when breakfast was over (between the months of September and January), my dad would sit “in his spot” on the couch and watch football. All day–sometimes napping here and there, while still sitting upright. (It used to remind me of how horses slept standing up . . .)

Anyway, one Sunday morning, he was making it very well known to all of us that he was “not happy” with the way one of the teams had been playing–the quarterback in particular.

“Look at him . . . running around like a slowpoke. Get rid of the ball, dammit!”

A few minutes later, he shouted, “See? A sack! He just let them pull him down . Why don’t they put someone else in?!”

Feeling bad for the quarterback, I decided to come to his defense.

“Dad!,” I said, “It’s not his fault! The blockers aren’t blocking the quarterback!”

When I said that, he jumped. Then he turned and looked at me–as if surprised at what I’d said.

Then, with a look and tone of honest and true sincerity (something that was rare for my father), he “explained” to me:

“Kathy . . . Washington doesn’t have a black quarterback.”

10

01 2008

“I Once Won Enough Money on a Football Game to Buy a Car . . .”

That’s #48 on “My 100.”

And for those of you that have been asking for details, here is the story.

I started betting on football back in 1993. I learned how to analyze numbers and teams and quarterback ratings and slowly began to win. I didn’t bet $1,000 on a team “straight up,” I’d bet on three or four teams at a time on a “parlay card,” which meant that all of the teams I chose had to win, or I’d be out my $50.

After two seasons of really high highs and some really low lows, I decided that I’d be “done with it” after the Super Bowl in 1995. For those of you who don’t remember, that was the game between the San Francisco 49ers and the San Diego Chargers.

If you were “in the know,” it didn’t take much for you to realize that the 9ers were going to hand the Chargers the biggest beating of their lives. It was a horribly mismatched game on paper, and worked out to be a bigger mismatch on the field.

I’d taken my last bit of cash (somewhere around $600) and bet on the game HUGE. I had parlays coming out of my ears, and was picking who would win the coin toss to who would score first to how they scored that first touchdown. I’d picked the range of points that were scored in each quarter and half, how many penalties there’d be, and even managed to pick what type of score would take place (field goal? TD? Safety?) before halftime.

All in all, I had about 15 cards going at the same time, and only lost on two. My total earnings for the afternoon were upwards of $4,500.

That evening, I hit the classifieds–ready to buy a car. I could have bought a nice used car outright, but ended up putting it down on a nicer Acura instead.

I’ve since “retired” from betting heavy on football. I have gone to Reno/Tahoe and done some smaller wagering since then (with moderate success), and have even taught a few people how to pick ‘em.

I suggest trying it at least once in your life. Betting on a few games makes watching football much more entertaining!

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27

12 2007

Conversations With Jake: The Day After Saturday

I’m going to begin a new segment called “Conversations With Jake.”

I thought about designating a day for it, but he’s so g-damn funny sometimes that I can’t wait to share the story. Here’s my “Conversations With Jake” inaugural post:

Anyone who knows me knows that I love football way too much “for a girl.” In fact, I’ve been known to bet on a game here and there “for entertainment purposes only.” My husband loves football too, and knows the value of a wife who likes her house to be filled with the sound of helmets hitting, whistles blowing, and the crowd noise after the Colts score their 5th touchdown of the game. Lucky is the man who can buy his woman the NFL Sunday Ticket for her birthday and not get locked out of the house.

We watch football a lot–both on TV and outside of the house too. My husband’s nephew plays varsity football for a local high school team and we hardly ever miss a game

This means that both of our sons were and will continue to be routinely exposed to the game. We, like lots of parents, dream of one day seeing our boys play the game at any level. (Although my husband is fond of the dream of seeing either or both of our boys in a Green Bay Packer uniform.)

All that being said, here’s how the conversation with Jake went this past Sunday afternoon.

“What today is it?,” he asked us.

“It’s an ‘S’ day. You know, one of the ‘stay at home’ days.,” I replied.

“Saturday?,” he said.

“No, but you’re close. What comes after Saturday?,” my husband asked.

“Football.”

We couldn’t be prouder . . .

23

10 2007