I've been a coach's wife for over 10 years. I've sat through freezing temperatures and blistering heat. I've consumed enough sunflower seeds and nachos to feed an army. I've endured more sunburns than is advised by my physician. I've cheered and I've cried over both victories and losses. I've cringed and laughed at my husband, his team, other fans.
I've been a player's mom for over 6 years. All of the above applies. Except that I have sat with my stomach in knots, cried tears of joy & pride, and cheered until my voice went hoarse because it was my baby on the field.
I've also complained. A lot. Waaay too much, actually. I've complained that practices are too long and too hot. I've complained that the coach is unfair, unknowledgeable, unkind.
This year, my chief complaint was that Claire's coach, while very nice... had never coached before. Not the worst thing in the world. We had lived through that before. But, as nice as her coach was, she knew nothing about the game of softball.
Long story short, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She had eagerly said "yes" when asked if she was interested in helping, not realizing that she had stepped into the fast & furious world of youth softball in the south!
After hearing that she was looking for a replacement, and fearing that Claire wouldn't have a team to play on, I offered to take over. I am still wondering what the heck I was thinking.
We've had a week of practices... it has felt like a month! We have our opening tournament this weekend. Kelly was my assistant coach, but in another exciting turn of events, he has his own team to worry about! He would have been pretty scarce even as an assistant, as they are now playing district games, but as the head coach? Fuhgettaboutit! We are thrilled, but a bit overwhelmed to say the least.
So now, our plan is: Kelly will coach me, and I will coach the girls. I'll let you know how it goes! On the bright side, I don't have too much to complain about, right?