WATFORD CITY, N.D. — I don't have athletic bones in my body. Throughout my childhood, my cousins called me “tuck and roll.” That's because he spent a lot of time falling off horses and breaking bones. In my short basketball career, I had to work hard to be selected for the C team.
My current sister-in-law was a middle school volleyball coach. She likes to remember how scared I was of the ball during her family dinners. Apparently, ducking when someone hits a volleyball your way is not in the playbook. Also, there's nothing embarrassing about having your boyfriend's sister be your volleyball coach, especially if you only participate in social situations.
If you ask my husband what kind of team member I was during our one season as a curling team, he'll tell you I was more into visiting than cleaning…
Recently, when Edie wanted to play soccer through Parks and Recreation and we were looking for a parent to help out with all eight second and third grade teams, I thought my husband would take on the job. was. The man, unlike me, has excelled in sports all his life, even though he has never played or watched a single real soccer game in his life.
And he's being coached.
myself?
I once volunteered to help with the 4-H STEAM program and accidentally swore in front of all the fourth graders. And when they called me out on it, I acted like an adult and denied it to all their innocent faces. They were confused and I wasn't ready so my husband signed me up to coach Edie's soccer team.
But being me, I said I would help. And by helping, I meant communicating with parents, remembering names, arranging lines, arranging snacks, taking pictures, etc. Basically, I will be the administrator. And they put my name on the roster under Chad as a coach and here I am. Coach Jesse. And for all the reasons mentioned above, let me put some generous quotes around the word “coach.”
My dear husband knew about these generous quotes, but during the first 10 minutes of our first practice, he asked me to run up and help him demonstrate the drill to the kids. and Kick him the ball. sorry? A second grader and his third grader are not a forgiving audience. I came here for the paperwork and let me say it was shown.
Fast forward to last week's first game, and more problems with this arrangement began to surface. I feel so bad for my daughter because, while I may not be a competitive athlete, I am a competitive cheerleader.
“Oh, good luck!” I yell. It doesn't necessarily help when they fail to achieve their goals. Also, I'm embarrassed to admit this, but when I told the kids that I was going to play the first game slowly to teach them positions and game mechanics, I tried to reassure my small team by saying, . To win is to learn! ” That was met with a correction and a blank stare from my husband. “Well, you can try to win while you learn.”
got it. You earned points. The reason I was there was to run the timers and sub kids. I thought I could handle it until confusion started to arise in the field and her husband dared to ask which children belonged to which position.
In response, he was greeted with the same blank stare as I was.
“I have no idea, but I finally know the name!” I just replaced Autumn with Calvin. ”
And the ultimate question. “Coach Jesse, what’s the score?”
“Me. I have. No, it's an idea. We're here to have fun, aren't we?”
If I had to, I'd watch soccer videos on YouTube and wonder if I could change my entire personality at 40 years old.
Perhaps in the name of youth sports.
Peace, love, and in volleyball, just like in soccer, don't bend over.
Read more of Jesse's Coming Home column
Hello from my ranch in western North Dakota. Thank you for reading. If you're interested in stories and reflections on country life, its characters, heartbreaks, triumphs, absurdities, and what it means to live, love, and raise children in the middle of nowhere, check out my Coming Home column below. Check out more. As always, we'd love to hear your thoughts! Please contact us at jessieveeder@gmail.com.