Coach

I played softball in elementary school, but the handstand contests we orchestrated in the outfield distracted us from catching any fly balls. In fifth grade, a teammate passed me the ball during an intramural basketball game, which I dribbled down the court for a lay-up and missed the only shot I took the entire season. I cheered in high school, but rarely mustered the courage to flip my way across concrete gym floors. My athletic side struggled to take root. I struggled to shine as an all-star athlete.

Now, years later, my time has come.

The athletics coordinator at the school where I substitute teach needed a faculty member to accompany the eighth grade boys basketball team, along with the head coach, to their away games. Administration asked me if I wanted to do it. I hesitated, reflected on my athletic past. What coaching advice would I have to offer? Then they mentioned additional pay, so I dusted off my old tracksuit and dug out the sweatbands.

I schmoozed Coach D on the bus ride to the first game. I proclaimed that basketball rules in my home state, that we bleed blue. I expressed a love for basketball, listened to the team’s stats, winning record. Game stuff.

After the 45 minute ride to the game in Queens, Coach D liked me. So much, in fact, that he made me “Assistant Coach”. Lord knows, I am not assistant coach material. But, what the heck, why not reinvent myself, become the sporty girl I never was, and take him up on the offer.

I take my duties seriously as assistant coach. I attend all games, ride the bus, and oversee the team warm-up with Coach D. I sit on the bench, squeeze in the team huddle during every time out, and shove my hand in the middle when we break and yell “hard work” or “go team”. Coach D introduces me to the opposing team’s coaching staff as “Assistant Coach” and after I line up with our team to slap hands, I shake the coaches’ hands at the end of game. I usually throw in a “good game” with a head nod. I take my new role seriously.

I’ve noticed my self-esteem slowly looking up, a bounce in my step. If only my classmates could see me now… Assistant Coach. They’d be amazed. Literally, amazed.