Eight years ago, I never would have been thankful for being the coach’s daughter, but today I am.

I always grew up being “the coach's daughter,” and contrary to what some people believe, it was never an easy thing.

My father and I always shared a close bond over the one thing we both loved -- lacrosse. Growing up, lacrosse was always the center of the conversation. We would live, breath and sleep lacrosse. This bond started at a very young age when my dad came home one day with two lacrosse sticks, one for my brother and one for me. It was the middle of the winter, and winters in Maryland are generally pretty cold. In the evenings, the sun goes down very early, leaving very little light outside for anyone to play in the evening. We resorted to learning how to play lacrosse in our basement. In the basement, where it really didn’t matter, my dad assumed the roll of being our coach. This would then transpire onto the outside world where he would become my first coach on my first lacrosse team. It didn’t end there though.

As the years went on and as I continued to get older and grow to each new age bracket for lacrosse, my dad was standing beside me. Actually it was more like in front of me because he was my coach. I never got it easy being the coach’s daughter and I never got it fair either. I was always pushed way harder than any other child on the team. I was always so jealous of the kids who left with their parents after practices and games because they wouldn’t hear the whole ride home and the remainder of the night how good or awful we had played. It was usually about how awful we played though, because no one really ever talks about the good stuff. In those moments, I hated that I was the coach’s daughter, but looking back, I would take any of those moments and relive them again.

I continued to get older and the level of lacrosse continued to increase. The next step of the plan was travel lacrosse. My first year of travel lacrosse I had two brand new coaches. My dad was forced to watch from the sideline. With this being said, the coaching never stopped. In fact, the people who ran the club saw his coaching ability and the following year offered him a job to be the coach of our team. This of course gave me mixed feelings. As I was getting older the next focus was getting recruited to play in college, and the last thing I wanted was the extra stress of being the coach’s daughter during this crucial time in my life. Even then I didn’t realize how grateful I should have been.

Months went on and the stress of the future piled on top of me. Where would I go to school? What coaches wanted me? Emailing coaches and visiting college campuses all over the east coast became the only life we knew for the next year. I still played lacrosse and I was still the coach’s daughter who got pushed way harder than anyone else and who got nagged for every little thing. But on every college visit, I had not only dad, but I also had my coach standing beside me, asking every question imaginable and picking up on all the little things regular moms and dads might miss. For this, I started to become grateful.

Now, my first two years of college are over. I look back and I wonder how I got to where I am today, and the only thing I see is my dad. As much as I hated being the coach’s daughter, being pushed too hard, and the countless arguments we had over this silly sport, it has made me the person I am today. Without you, dad, I would not be half the player and person I am today. All those times you yelled at me for something, you were making me better. Those nights we would spend an extra two hours at the dinner table drawing out offenses and defenses are something I would never take back.

I can never thank you enough for all the times you took off of work to travel to a tournament and spend every weekend of your entire summer coaching when we all knew being on the boat would have made you just as happy. I also can’t thank you enough for the past two years. Driving at least eight hours to come to as many games as you possibly could, being my biggest fan and still being the person I look to when I need guidance in this sport. You have made me a better player and a better person, and I can’t thank you enough. You are the reason that this sport still gives me as much happiness as that night you brought home two little sticks and taught me how to play.