Coaches kids don't always have it made.

Being The Coach's Kid Isn't Always As Glamorous As It May Seem

Being the coach's kid can be rough at times and sitting in the stands can make it that much worse.

134
views

Since the day I was born my dad has been a coach in some sport. He's coached baseball, softball, girls and boys basketball, and most importantly football. He's been a football coach for a total of 27 years. This fall he just kicked off his 18th season as a head football coach.

Since I was four years old my dad has been a head coach. Of course when you tell people that they usually think it's glamorous and that you probably get everything handed to you. That is one of the downsides.

When I was little I thought everything was great and that my dad was literally the best thing since sliced bread. Now I still think he is pretty freaking awesome, but at about the age of 13 the wool got yanked away from my eyes and I really saw what it was like to be his daughter.

For the first nine years of my daddy's head coaching career losing games came few and far between. When we lost I was devastated but it was okay because I knew we'd bounce back. If you've ever seen the movie Remember the Titans, the little girl played by Hayden Panettiere is me. Even to this day I still act like her sometimes just not as intense.

Like I said at age 13 the wool got yanked away from my eyes. At that age is when I started to realize everyone thought I got the position I wanted on a sports team because of who he was. It didn't really hit until I moved to the school he was at.

When I moved to Scottsboro, is when I realized that being the coach's kid wasn't everything. Their football wasn't really successful. My dad took on a program that in the three years he was there won five games. That was honestly miserable.

What made it even more miserable was hearing the people talk about your daddy. Hearing he's not a good coach. Hearing he needs to do this better. Finally hearing we need a new coach is what got to me. It was beyond hard to hear that about the man you thought was the best coach there ever was.

That is when I realized that the coach can't please everyone and he's not made to. We moved back to Gaston, where he had been for nine years previous. That first year back we won. We won every year until last year. I've been out of high school for four years now and I still hear the negativity.

The negativity reminds me that it's not all glamorous and it's not all rainbows and butterflies. The negativity reminds me that no matter how bad others might think he is that to me he is still the best.

Him doing what he does get me in the door to honestly my dream job. That dream job has to lead me to be able to stand on his sideline and take pictures and video of not only his football games but, football games across East Alabama.

Even though being his kid may involve the glitter and dust to go away I'll still come out shiny because no matter what I'm proud of who my daddy is and what he has accomplished in his eighteen years as head coach. The glamorous parts still exist and will for the rest of my life.

Popular Right Now

Working With People Who Are Dying Teaches You So Much About How To Live

Spending time with hospice patients taught me about the art of dying.

62391
views

Death is a difficult subject.

It is addressed differently across cultures, lifestyles, and religions, and it can be difficult to find the right words to say when in the company of someone who is dying. I have spent a lot of time working with hospice patients, and I bore witness to the varying degrees of memory loss and cognitive decline that accompany aging and disease.

The patients I worked with had diverse stories and interests, and although we might have had some trouble understanding each other, we found ways to communicate that transcended any typical conversation.

I especially learned a lot from patients severely affected by dementia.

They spoke in riddles, but their emotions were clearly communicated through their facial expressions and general demeanor, which told a story all on their own.

We would connect through smiles and short phrases, yes or no questions, but more often than not, their minds were in another place. Some patients would repeat the details of the same event, over and over, with varying levels of detail each time.

Others would revert to a child-like state, wondering about their parents, about school, and about family and friends they hadn't seen in a long time.

I often wondered why their minds chose to wander to a certain event or time period and leave them stranded there before the end of their life. Was an emotionally salient event reinforcing itself in their memories?

Was their subconscious trying to reconnect with people from their past? All I could do was agree and follow their lead because the last thing I wanted to do was break their pleasant memory.

I felt honored to be able to spend time with them, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was intruding on their final moments, moments that might be better spent with family and loved ones. I didn't know them in their life, so I wondered how they benefited from my presence in their death.

However, after learning that several of the patients I visited didn't have anyone to come to see them, I began to cherish every moment spent, whether it was in laughter or in tears. Several of the patients never remembered me. Each week, I was a new person, and each week they had a different variation of the same story that they needed to tell me.

In a way, it might have made it easier to start fresh every week rather than to grow attached to a person they would soon leave.

Usually, the stories were light-hearted.

They were reliving a memory or experiencing life again as if it were the first time, but as the end draws nearer, a drastic shift in mood and demeanor is evident.

A patient who was once friendly and jolly can quickly become quiet, reflective, and despondent. I've seen patients break down and cry, not because of their current situation, but because they were mourning old ones. These times taught me a lot about how to be just what that person needs towards the end of their life.

I didn't need to understand why they were upset or what they wanted to say.

The somber tone and tired eyes let me know that what they had to say was important and worth hearing. What mattered most is that someone who cared was there to hear it.

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating

My First College Gal Pal Road Trip Was Amazing

Every girl should have one good girls trip.

269
views

In some way or another, everybody has a list of things they want to do in their lives before it's all over. After all, we're human. There's adventure to be had in every life. One thing I have always wanted to do before I grew too old and grey was go on a road trip with my gal pals to the beach. A couple weeks ago, I achieved this memorable milestone, and it allowed me to open up to new surroundings and experiences.

On this trip, I went with two of my friends from college, Kait and Lindsey, to visit my roommate Elizabeth in Virginia Beach. This was pretty big for Lindsey and I because neither of us had been to Virginia Beach before. Thankfully Elizabeth and Kait knew their way around the city, so we never got lost on our way to and fro.

Like most vacations, my favorite parts probably took place at the beach. I'm always at utter peace stomping through mushy sand or leaning down to splash the salty water that tries to knock my short self over. We took pictures and did something us college girls rarely have time to do especially in school: Relax.

The four of us did not live up to the crazed stereotype of girl trips in movies. Although I finally got a chance to sing along to Taylor Swift in a car ride with my friends, so that's always a plus. We played "Top Golf" one day, and by some miracle, I actually won the second game by a fair amount after much humiliation in the first one. We visited some of Elizabeth's family, and I finally got to meet her giant dog Apollo (I call him 'Wolf Dog'). Everyday was another chance to ask with enthusiasm: "So what are we doing today?"

Our trip wasn't like the movies where we all cried or confessed our deepest darkest secrets. Everything the four of us shared was laughter and this calm feeling of being at home, in the chaotic peace of each other's company. We understand each other a little better due to finally seeing what we're like outside of Longwood University. After this, all I can say is that we're most definitely planning the next one!

Related Content

Facebook Comments