Beginning of the Season

I'm sitting on the bus, in the dark.  I'm a little old for a bus ride, but that's where I'm found, night after night.  It's cold and it's loud.  The music is playing and the girls in the back have finally settled down, althought the occasional giggle can still be heard.  There's something about those giggles that make me smile.  I'm staring out the window, at the moon high in the sky.  In the reflection, his head is lowered, and he's concentrating on his cell phone as he texts someone.  It's never far from his hand, and I'm learning to live with that.  I don't think I have ever loved him more.

Two nights ago, we sit in a gym, again.  It's funny how pivotal a gym plays in my life, yet it never gets old.  I don't think that it ever will.  I picture us in our 70s, going to watch the local high schools play. By that time, the kids he is coaching will have kids playing... and I'm sure we'll hear all about his glory days.  On that night, he's pretty rowdy.  The first game of the season.  Lots of jumping and yelling and stomping.  The crowd of kids on the other side of the gym are mocking, and he is playing right to it.  It's always funny to me how the other fans and parents don't like him. "I'd never let my kid play for someone who acts like that..."

What they don't see, though, is the back scenes.  The next night, a 40 point loss, and as he has finally settled into the fact that they are going to lose, he subs in his second five and comes over to those on the bench.  There's even a smile on his face as he bends over and talks.  And on the bus, as we get off to eat, he gives one of the seniors a high five.  "Keep your head up.", he smiles.  "It's going to be a good year."

I am a student of the game, because even after all of these years, I don't know much about it.  I'm learning different defenses and offenses.  The girls asked me about a team earlier on in the year, and I laugh as I tell them I really don't know enough about it to tell them.  I'm still learning who is a 1, a 2, a 3... that's all his business.  My business is to let him rant and rave when they do bad, and to encourage when there wasn't anything else they can do.  I'm the one behind the scenes, who sees him worry before a game and who listens to the game plan and who hears about "what if we had..." following a loss.  And I'm a student of him, because after sixteen years, things change. People change.  Relationships change... and staying in love means never staying, but changing and adapting and sacrificing. 

And on that bus, someone starts talking, and he looks up and joins in.  I'm content just to sit and listen. And the girls in the back laugh a little, and sing along to Taylor Swift, and even after a loss, all is right in the world.  Tonight, and every night, It's great to be a Jackson Tiger.