The field is empty. My love and I walk its length hand and hand. A ritual started during our courtship. He replays the game to himself, play by play as I listen to the smooth timber of his baritone voice. Our boys the twins are playing catch on the sidelines. Both like their father play football, pee wee for now. The stands hold echoes of the memories of fans and their cheers. They are empty too but for the rubbish left behind from the throngs of people. It was just a couple of hours ago when he had been given his 100th Gatorade bathe adding another win to his impeccable record at State.
Who am I? I am the head coach’s wife and I have held this title and that of assistant coach’s wife in different cities and at few schools through the years. It has been eight years in the same city this time. When my coach and I first met in high school I could have never imagined that we would end up here. Our weekends from August to December are filled with team chapels, tailgates, pre-game warm ups, get to getters with other coach’s ladies and two hours of nail biting, and eyes closed in deep prayer. Coordinating trips to away games, and couples’ bible study teleconference calls; other times of the year as a family going to conferences, visiting family and working on projects that could not be completed before the football season started.
Title: The Training Never Ends (Novel – In the Works)
© 2010 – 2014, Lela Jefferson Fagan. All rights reserved.
