Don't Make the Bear Angry

Tonight my favorite coach will be calling it quits. He is literally throwing in the towel.

After 18 years of coaching everything from football and softball to track and volleyball he is passing the torch on to other folks. [I know some folks are like, "Its not like he coached 35 or 40 years and was a state champion or blah, blah, blah."  He went into teaching for the coaching.  He ended up loving the classroom as much as the field.]

It is bittersweet.

For all of our married life, he has coached in some form or fashion. [To be completely honest, coaching almost ended our marriage very early. I didn't get the time commitment at all.  Totally and completely selfish on my part and I've apologized many times.]

His career started in the booming metropolis of Cherryville [or Cher'ville for some people] as a football coach.  This was our first experience with high school football.  I didn't realize how much I would truly become entrenched in small town high school football.

It was fun [and still is after almost 20 years].

The best part has always been watching my favorite coach. 

[And watching his hat.  What he is doing with the hat he is wearing during the game is always an indication of how the game is going on the field.  For example, if he starts messing with the bill or adjusting it on his head, then the game plan is not being executed.  If he takes it off completely and holds it in his hands or uses it to point at players then he is mad.  If it ends up in the back of his pants, stuck in the waist band, then we are sunk....game over.  It is a proven fact.  I've watched this happen through countless football and softball games.  He swears it doesn't happen. He is dead wrong.]  

I love to watch the interactions with the players, good and bad [sometimes I have to scold him afterwards because he is too harsh], how he schmoozes with the umpires and refs [they love the man], and watching him point to the sky to thank Jesus after every win and every loss.

Through the years we have weathered many highs and many lows in coaching....

• I remember when Mooresville had 4th and 26 yards to go at Cherryville....and the Blue Devils won the game. [And I am fairly certain that "4th and 26" was painted on the wall in the locker room as a reminder...]
• I remember the first time in 20 years that  Cherryville beat Lincolnton and the massive celebration on the field.
• I remember attending the funerals of two former East Gaston football players two post seasons in a row.
• I remember the Mooresville hat sitting inside the casket of his dad several days after the Friday night game where I busted into the locker room to break the news to him that Ray was very sick.
• I remember the night East Gaston finally beat South Point in front of the home crowd.
• I remember the finally beating Crest in softball during his last season at East Gaston.
• I remember the epic 2006 season at East Gaston where we went to the third round of the play-offs and brought our sweet Gabe into the world.
• I remember Friday nights, after football games, when the coaches and their families fixed a mess of food and watched Football Friday Night.
• I remember starting over, here in KM, and feeling like a fish out of water because none of the fans seemed really receptive to a new coach.
• I remember the sting of words being slung at him, with my kids sitting there listening. [And yes, I remember a few several times not choosing the high road and giving it right back to them.  You want to see me go 7 different kinds of crazy?  Talk about my husband in front of my kids and it is a guarantee that my crazy will hit you like a bad habit.]
• I remember the night we came back, with two outs, to beat Chase, in the 8th inning. 
• I remember the parents that supported him [and I will forget the parents that chose to not support him].
• I remember the countless hours he has spent working on that softball field...late nights of lining the field, painting for senior nights, and picking grass from the infield....under the lights.
• I remember Molly's senior night and watching the two of them celebrate one last victory as coach and player, but more importantly, as dad and daughter.
• I remember the sleepless nights before big games, buying Stride gum and a diet Wild Cherry Pepsi to take to him, and the excitement of going on to the field after a big win [and many times asking in the stands if anyone wanted to take him home after an upsetting loss....I am not a bit ashamed to admit that either].

This has been one of the biggest decisions of his life. 

He will be walking away from coaching. 

He has coached for 18 straight years, in some capacity and at every school where he has ever worked.  

He will also be leaving Cooper for his last two years of high school football. [If you know anything about him at all then you know that my husband loves his children.  He has worried himself silly over leaving Cooper. Please pray for him about this worry.]
  
When he asked Cooper how he felt about him stepping away, his answer to his dad was simple yet so profound coming from a 16 year old: Some people are born to teach and some are born to lead. You, dad, are a leader. 

[Talk about tears. Wow.]

And tonight he is breaking the news to a group of ladies and parents that are
very special to him.  He has dreaded doing this and I know it will be difficult.
This group of young ladies has chiseled a place on his heart and they will not soon be forgotten.  He loves them and doesn't want anyone to be upset with him for choosing to walk away.  I don't envy his tough position tonight. 

Not at all.  

I have said extra prayers that the girls and parents are receptive and listen to his heart.  I pray for them as they search for a new coach.  I pray for him as he walks away.

Come August, he will be trading in his whistle for a new adventure.  He will be the newest Assistant Principal at West Lincoln Middle School. He is very humbled and excited about the new challenge God has given him.  

But for us...he is now and will always be Coach Short.

My favorite coach.