Loving A Coach Still

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Online pic.
Love you stacks but you love yourself more. No problem. I got your back and I say 
this season is locked in. Signed. Sealed. Delivered. It's yours. Your work is for all of us.

Loving a coach brings some tears now and then, not because you are watching a football or basketball game. They are induced by the 5%  reality. That is all he can give you because the 95% belongs to the game. It’s nothing personal. Women before you, mothers of his kids also lived with the 5% allocation. Kids were born and they also squeezed into the 5%. Some kids are wise. They play sports so that they could be part of dad’s 95%. Loving a man you met when he was already steeped in coaching means you loved his work, because his work is part of the man. That doesn’t make sense. It’s not supposed to, because love is irrational. It’s just there, no shape nor form, just smiling when you think of another woman’s baby boy, and wiping a tear because he is a coach. Coaches move around, Alabama today, Alaska tomorrow. You don’t mind that because there are cars and planes so you always meet somewhere. My place or yours? Maybe I’m getting it all wrong. Maybe loving a coach is not painful per se. It’s when two people destined for each other finally meet, and you know it only happens in the movies. Very few women can say I finally met the coach of my dreams. Sorry! The man of my dreams. How do you know you love someone? Very little is said. No explanations needed because every gesture is understood, every song has the same memories in terms of time and place. Just peace. But how is that possible with a coach, because 95%  of his time belongs to his work? Remember the 5% is not dedicated to the woman in his life. She shares it with his kids, friends and parents. Adjustments are inevitable, cut and paste time and learn to love other people within the 5% awning.

The hard part is thinking about things outside your reach, like that coach who loved you. Maybe you will continue the tradition of lunch on his birthday, because you are so glad he was born, to love me. Tears will stop one day. Will they?

Nonqaba waka Msimang

Executive Blogger

 

 

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