This is my fourth season at Fairdale--longest tenure I've had as a coach believe it or not. This 2015 season marks my 11th go-round coaching high school soccer. Brittany and I did the math and my career record is 63-79. Two bad seasons at Warren East and Franklin are the difference there. Everything else is pretty solid.
This season's prospects look pretty good based on our pre-season performance. I have a lot to be excited about. I'm happy with my kids. I've got good support at Fairdale.
But I'm exhausted with it. My duties go beyond that of coach. Instead of thinking about how this player can improve his touch on the ball, I'm having to answer questions about what size warm up shirts were left on the bus Thursday night.
This is an every week thing by the way.
Nights before game days I load up my workout bag for a 5:00 am workout before cleaning up and heading to school by 6:20. I power through the school day teaching my ass off until 2:20. The day is far from over.
Texts begin pouring in from kids or even stopping by my room to ask where we're meeting or that they forgot their socks. "Read your fucking text messages" or "that's your problem" are my responses internally. But I just repeat myself for the 10th time and tell sock boy that there's a spare pair in my bag----always have a backup plan.
I really do have a super hero mentality when it comes to my teaching and coaching. Fairdale rescued me from the worst situation I'll ever be in. The community is one worth going to battle for. They are my Gotham City. The kids on my team spend their time in the social security office or food stamp line wondering who will step up for them. It's only then that I get that chill down my spine and come to the rescue. I'm a fighter and a survivor, and I think it's my job to show these kids how to become that if they aren't already.
But I'm exhausted. I'm frustrated. All too often have I presented these kids with wonderful opportunities for exposure and fun only to have the rug pulled out from under me by parents or kids themselves who don't quite understand how this whole high school sport thing works. Very creative practice plans, team building ideas have all gone by the wayside due to the flakiness that comes with children of poverty. Imagine baking a really cool looking cake just cause it was fun for you and then no one eating it. What a waste of effort and creativity! And time! And money!
I married the love of my life on June 6th. The more I labor throughout these days the more I remind myself that she deserves my fight, energy, and fresh personality more than anybody else on this planet. She very rarely gets it.
My current argument with myself is a tough one. Do I enjoy an exciting upcoming season wrought with championship possibilities, go out with the 13 seniors I came in with and thus finally give Brittany my all? Or do I continue happily paying my debt to Fairdale and playing superhero for however much longer; unnecessary late night texts included?
Brittany doesn't believe me. I do believe after my last game this year that I'll be exhausted and just ready to drop down and sit for a few months. When I'm asked if this was it, I'm going to nod my head "yeah". When I get up and walk to my car or into my house I may very well have tears rolling down my face. They will be partially sad that I'll feel like I'm leaving these kids behind but they'll also be tears of happiness that I can now bring the effort to my marriage that I've brought to my job for so long. I have a list of things I want to do. Just like that same list when I was 17 that said I wanted to teach history, coach soccer, and win some championships. If things go well this fall, I'd have to say "mission accomplished".
No comments:
Post a Comment