October 9, 2017

Which coach is my Coach?

I got to Reggie's soccer game late yesterday - thanks to Tank.  I have no problem arriving late or even missing some of my kids' sporting events.  It's the way it goes.  I wasn't fuming over being a tad late.  Tank WAS in the dog house though for what he did to make me late.  When I arrived just after the first quarter, something odd happened.

I couldn't identify which of the coaches on the sidelines was Coach.  Coach is coaching Reggie's soccer team.  He is coaching Curly's team as well . . . thus the title assigned to him for my blog.  In the morning I attended Curly's game.  I didn't really remember what Coach was wearing, but it was a bit breezy out in the morning and he had been sporting a navy jacket.

I typically sit in the bleachers and chat with other parents while managing to stay tuned into Reggie's action on the field.  I rarely shy away from a social opportunity, and I'm always glad to see another parent that I enjoy talking to during the game.

I was describing Tank's latest infraction to another parent.  When I glanced across the field, I paused.  There was another man standing on the opposite sidelines near the other coaches.  I hesitated, because I thought I had already identified Coach as the tall, skinny guy talking to a few kids further down the field.  Now this other tall, skinny guy caused me to do a double take.

The other mom who was learning all about life with Tank commented that the other team's coach was built an awful lot like Coach.  They both were wearing khaki shorts and a tan baseball hat.  The one that we thought was the other team's coach was wearing a navy jacket.  That was what was throwing me off.  I thought for sure that he wasn't my husband, but Coach had been wearing a navy coat that morning.

This field is hardly an Olympic size stadium.  We were sitting on standard bleachers not far from the sidelines at a field behind a local junior high.  The row of family members sitting in portable chairs was about 10 feet in front of us.  Hey, if bleachers are available I don't bother to pull a portable chair out of the trunk of my car.  I mentioned that I get there late frequently, right?  Not worth the effort to pull out a chair.  Besides, the chairs that we own are falling apart.  It takes a good deal of concentration to prop up the poles in the right corners of the broken down arm rests so that the darn thing doesn't topple over.

AND I was wearing my contact lenses.  I can't be trusted to operate a motor vehicle without my corrective lenses or eye glasses.  Arriving to the game at all would have been a Mr. Magoo caliber small miracle, if I managed to leave the house without contact lenses.

So there we sat, trying to decide which coach I was married to for 21 years.  Just as I decided that the guy in the t-shirt with no jacket was my hubby, the whistle blew for half time.  That's when the 'other coach' approached Reggie and started pointing around the field giving him soccer tips.  Now that was a new approach to coaching.

Then my mom friend alerted me that there was another coach on the sidelines standing closer to the opposing team.  Wait a minute.

Then the mystery coach in the navy jacket started to walk along the sidelines.  His mannerisms were very similar to Coach's.  By now other folks sitting in the bleachers had started to weigh in on which of the similarly dressed, tall, thin men was my husband.  Navy jacket coach continued to walk around the field towards us.  Another dad called out, 'Hey, isn't that your older son?'

OK, not my best art work.  I was obviously too lazy to grab a soccer ball from the garage, so my version is a geometric nightmare.  My apologies.  My kids had no school today, but the kids I sit for were here anyway.  It was 80 degrees out.  Tank had a doctor's appointment.  The kids had friends over.  I made a quick trip to the grocery store.  I used the gas grill for the first time ever.  I whipped up my infamous 7 layer taco dip for a Chicago Bears Monday night football block party.  I did a few load of laundry.  AND I've been without a kitchen for about 7 weeks.  Days like this the blog suffers.  I contemplated making Coach and Ed dress in their matching clothes and posing for a photo, but that was NEVER going to happen.  Oh, and I must note that no one in my family wears a baseball hat at this weird angle.  Artist interpretation - or just crappy drawing, you decide.  Wow, this caption is almost as long as an entire blog post! 
I bust out laughing.  I was slightly embarrassed.  Eddie was the dude that was dressed similarly to Coach, built the same, and carrying on with the same mannerisms.  Aha!  It made perfect sense that he had pulled Reg over for some added instruction.

That morning when Ed headed to the golf course to caddy, he informed us that there would be a 27 hold tournament.  I didn't expect to see him for hours.  Apparently, the caddy master asked him to caddy for a group that was teeing off before the tournament began.  Since he finished early he decided to come and watch a few minutes of his little brother's game.

If Ed hadn't been wearing the navy jacket, his Kelly green polo shirt that he wears as his caddy uniform would've tipped me off.  Ed is thinner and a tad shorter than his father, but I hadn't noticed just how similar Ed is to Coach now that Ed has reached 6 foot 3.  Coach is 6 foot 4.

Ed and Reggie are cut from the same cloth to a point of ridiculousness.  Now, I see that the Ed/Reggie real-live action figure is crafted exactly after their dear old Dad.

Tank, on the other hand, is most often associated with resembling his father.  If he had escaped his dog house and attended the game, he could've made the game of 'Guess who is who' on the sidelines  even more interesting.

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