My husband, Stephen, was a “baller” in high school. He loved (and still loves) basketball. He had a very successful career and considered playing in college. Unfortunately, a knee injury changed his plans. In exchange for not playing at the college level, he met me. I think things worked out pretty well for him…
As we all know, it’s very hard to give up something you’ve loved for so long and that is how Stephen became Coach Dr. Moses. (I love when people call him this because I think you have to pick either coach or doctor but when you put them together it makes me laugh.)
When we first moved back to Cynthiana six years ago we would go to the occasional game and before I knew it, Stephen was stopping by the gym to watch a scrimmage or help with an individual workout. Then he became an assistant coach. Now he is going into year three as head coach of the freshman team. You may be thinking, “When does a busy doctor have time to do this extra job?” Well, he doesn’t have time. He makes time because he loves working with the kids and it’s possible that he needs to escape the massive level of estrogen in our house. (I choose to believe the first reason is his main motivation.) His last two teams have made it to the regional championship game. We joke that he deserves a raise this year. It’s a volunteer position. Stephen almost turned down the offer to continue coaching during the 2012-2013 season. He is gone more than usual due to practice and games and it is exhausting for both of us. Losing my dad has made the past seven months difficult to say the least. I knew that if he said no to coaching, he was doing it out of concern for me. I loved him for that and almost went along with that decision. I finally said “Just do it.”
Please don’t be impressed or think I’m selfless because I’m not. I will complain. I will drink too many Pepsis at the concession stands because I think I “deserve” to indulge. I will count to ten to control my impatience when I have to take one of my girls to the bathroom for the 20th time in one quarter (I seriously missed an entire game because Bailey was potty training last year. We provided tons of entertainment for the people sitting behind us). I will get grumpy because I had to chase our three year old up and down the bleachers while breaking up an argument between the two oldest.
Despite my flaws I will be Stephen’s biggest fan. No referee is off limits. During one very heated tournament game I sent him a text that said, “If you don’t get thrown out, I WILL!” I like to think he fell in love with me a little bit more at that moment. I will drag our girls all over the 10th region and they will have a great time just like they have the last two years. We will be together; on opposite sides of the gym, but still together in the same building. I will wear my very tacky “ I ‘Heart’ The Coach” shirt that embarrasses Coach Doctor. On the way home I will think about my dad and how much he loved that Stephen was coaching, how he called it his “mission work”, and how I wish we could rehash the game together play by play.