District Time: Bitter and Sweet

Our season has ended and it’s always bittersweet.

It’s sweet because my husband gets to come home and we get to breath for a little bit. We won’t constantly be running. The long nights won’t be there. The frustration of losing will eventually subside and things will just be normal, just okay.

It’s bitter because this weird thing happens every year where one minute you are bouncing between two-three games a week, long practices, and talking about how exhausted you are and then it just stops. Without warning, it all just goes away.

That’s the thing about district time, it is either one of the greatest weeks of your life, one you will always remember, or it just ends something you’ve worked so hard for all year long, and it never lets you down easy. Sure, maybe some coaches and some wives let out a sigh of relief but somewhere down inside you get this “out of place” feeling because you’re no longer consumed with this team. You will never have this exact team again. You will never do this exact thing again.

Yes, you will play again next year, but things are different every time. You have new players, maybe new coaches, new fans, new referees…I mean you get it. All year long you grow attached to this team, they are your team, you bleed their colors, and then it’s just gone. You can’t ask for second chances and you can’t change it.

As a wife a part of me is always thrilled that my house will be “normal” for a short time and then a large part of me is always kind of sad that it’s over, for myself, for Coach, and for that team – especially the seniors. You know that saying, “You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” That is how I always feel at the end and I imagine they feel it too.

Scotty McCreery says its best, (Disclaimer: I am usually not a fan of his.)

“At eighteen turned my helmet in and walked to the fifty yard line, Just the coach and me after we lost eighteen to nine, And I cried “man next time to get in here I'll have to buy a ticket.” Can't you give me five more minutes?”

So, here’s to all your hard work, may it always be a lesson and a memory. Here’s to those who have had a hard season and those who have crushed it. Here’s to the long nights. Here’s to the bad calls – because we can’t change them. Here’s to what’s to come. Here’s to the never ending bus rides. Here’s to the practices where you felt like you were right where you needed to be and to the ones that made you want to kick the whole team out.

Here’s to the seniors – the ones who will always be on “that team”, despite the outcome - we are proud. Here’s to the coaches because your hours, effort, and all the behind the scenes - stuff that no one else knows about - will always be appreciated by someone. Here’s to district time…the best and the worst time of the year.

The Coach's Wife