Football Time

Yesterday was our first “Game”. Actually, it was technically a scrimmage, but despite the too-hot weather (I got sunburned on exactly half of my body) and the fact that it was on a Saturday afternoon instead of Friday night, it felt like the actual start of football season for me.

Coach spent a week practicing w/ the players, getting home later each night, he left early on Saturday so he could be there to get the field and the players ready for the game and he’ll do his ritual, weekly film work with the other coaches later this evening. There’s also been a strange absence of Coach on many recent Sunday afternoons as he frequents the basement to watch his favorite NFL team (the Lions… don’t laugh), and the only reason I know he’s still in the house is the occasional yell coming from the depths of the house.

To me, it finally feels like football season has begun and that means that our household (at least until early November) is officially on Football Time. This means that when Coach said (as he did this past Friday), “I should be home around 5:30.” I (ever so gullible) translated that to… well… him being home at 5:30. So I had dinner ready… at 5:45 (at this point, I thought he was just running a few minutes late). At 6:00, I finally texted him (something along the lines of, I thought you said 5:30!!!). What I should have thought (this is after all my 9^th season as a coach’s wife) was, Oh, okay… I’ll expect him home around 6:30. So he walked in close to 6:30 and I was (I thought, understandably)... fuming. I think there may even have been smoke coming from my ears. He had all these explanations for why he was late, “Well, this coach had to talk to that player… blah blah blah.” Well… I’ve heard every “explanation” in the playbook.

This same phenomenon with given times happens with many other events during the Season, including when he says he’ll be done with something (like film work), when he says he’ll be leaving (from the field or an away game), and countless other things. It’s because we’re on Football Time.

So what is a wife (who becomes increasingly irritated each time the wrong times are communicated) to do when her household runs on Football Time? Unfortunately I don’t have magical formula, or I wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place, but here is a formula for what I expect to happen with time frames this Season:

Time Coach gives me  +  1 hour  =  approximate time that Said Event will happen

So to save me all the headaches, this is what I’m going to try to do this Season. When Coach gives me a time for an Event (when he will be home, done, leaving, etc.), I will just add an hour to that time and if the Event happens before the projected time, according to above formula, it will be like he’s actually getting home (getting done, leaving) early! It’s not exactly genius (few things I come up with are), but at least it might save me a few frustrating minutes of waiting and maybe even prevent a few suppers from sitting on the table getting cold. At least it will save me some sanity during this Season.

How do you all handle your Coach's time misinformation?

Painting Lines is Actually... Fun!

Coach Painting up the lines

The other day my husband said, “I have to go up to the football field and paint some lines next week.” I was like, “WHAT?!? Don’t they pay someone to do that?” He informed me that, yes, they pay someone to paint to official lines and yard markers on the football field, but that he paints a grid on the football practice field every year to work with his boys on drills. Ok, I thought, it’s kind of coming back to me from last year. He does these lines every year, but this year he said, “Do you and the girls want to come up and help me?” Really? I think I’d rather spend 6 hours on a bus with 40 smelly football players after a tough game… with the windows up. But I reluctantly agreed. How bad could it be? He said it would only take an hour, tops (and when he says an hour, it usually takes at least two), and the girls and I weren’t doing anything anyway. 

So we went down there and he got out all his stuff: line painting gadget, tape measure, string, and a square to make sure the corners are straight (he’s a perfectionist about certain things). Then we started painting the lines. We made a 30x30 grid with boxes every 5 feet using the string to make sure it was straight and the tape measure to make sure it was the right length. 

Coach and Daughter, "A" helping w/ the lines

Like I said, I was pretty jaded. I had prepared myself for a good hour of boredom. But as we started painting, we actually had (gasp!) fun! I liked painting the lines! And the icing on the cake was that it actually ended up turning into some quality time spent together. The girls ran around and rode their bikes while we painted the grid and we got to spend an hour (yes, it actually only took one hour!) doing something together. Albeit, not exactly what I would imagine as a romantic date, but hey, I take what I can get sometimes! 

The moral of the story: Try doing something with your husband that involves his sport and you might actually have fun doing it. In the very least, you’ll get to spend some time with your husband that would otherwise be spent apart. And you’ll be killing two birds with one stone. It’s a win-win. 

Coach and Daughter, "L" helping out

P.S. I thought I'd just mention - although I've clearly geared this blog towards the WIVES of coaches, if you are the husband of a coach, this is for you too. And ANYONE else that feels like reading it. :)

The Life of a Coach’s Wife

As the wives of coaches, we are asked to do a lot. Actually… a lot might be a bit of an understatement. 

Although never “expected” to, we make it to every home game and as many away games as possible, even if we don’t like the sport in question. We buy and wear the required gear, even if the color and style is fashion-murder, and we even deck out our kids in the team’s colors (my poor daughters have been humiliated by many a stranger as they are referred to “cute little boys”). We load half of our house (blankets, diaper bags, sweatshirts, etc.) into and then back out of our SUVs each Friday (Thursday, Saturday) afternoon or evening and we sit in the stands (in my case, hard metal stands, often covered in cold frost or, better yet, wet, heavy snow). We drag ourselves and our children to the games and sit with those little angels through meltdowns (“I’m cooooold Mommy!”), 31 trips to the bathroom (usually we just “happen” to be sitting the furthest seat possible from the facilities), and 46 trips to the concessions stand (these are inevitably timed by my precious little gems to happen as soon as we get back from the bathroom). 

We also suffer through sleepless nights, our husbands on the road for overnight or late-night games. We smile through every pregame supper, postgame get-together, tailgate party and awards banquet, even if we feel like we’re going to keel over from exhaustion. I’ve even known wives who have invited over the entire O-line of the University Football team (you know who you are!) and fed them all a hot, home-cooked meal EVERY WEEK during the season, just to make sure each and every one of the 250+ pound guys got a good meal before game day. We memorize terminology and play names that we would, otherwise, not give a care in the world about. We hang up every team picture proudly in our dens and basements and often know, on a first name basis, each and every athlete in the photo, even though our husbands call them all by their last names. All while (for many of us) working a full-time job on top of being a full-time mom. And all of that is just during the Season. 

How do we do all of this? Well… because we’re tough as nails!

This is "Coach" and I at the Denver Broncos game against the Detroit Lions 2 years ago. He is an avid Lions fan!

Please know that I am NO expert on relationships or even on being a coach's wife (I'm actually still sort of a rookie in this department). I hope that this is a place where others can relate to what I'm going through and be a place where others can come to feel connected to at least one other person who knows what they're going through. And it's a place where I can get things off my chest, which is also a plus. I hope it helps at least a couple people. :)