Dear Teacher...a.k.a. Coach,
I attended my first post-COVID high school football game last Friday night. I wonder if I am the only person who now marks events in my life as pre- or post- COVID.
Like most post-COVID events, it was different. Lines were painted on the bleachers. The crowds- a little sparser, and the mascot wasn't the only person wearing a mask this year.
The differences were unsettling at first, but somewhere between the deep echo of the base drum and the smell of boiled peanuts wafting through the air, I almost forgot about the dreaded "C" word- not cancer, the other "C" word- the one we have all united to hate.
In momentarily forgetting about COVID, I was overcome with emotion, and I know precisely the moment it happened. It was when I saw the team (17 year old boys, masquerading as men) walking out- the same way they did last year- two team captains leading the charge, their sweaty palms gripping a wooden banner boasting a single word- FAMILY.
FAMILY. During quarantine we were encouraged to stay with our families and avoid social events, but what happens when your family is a social event? For many young athletes, the football field is their living room, a huddle is their kitchen table, the boys beside them are their brothers, and the coach in front of them is their father.
Asking them to socially distance from their family is cruel and unjust. But dwelling on unjust situatuions too long is a recipe for a losing season, and that's the last thing any coach wants.
To win, takes the opposite. You have to want to win. You have to fix your eyes on victory, overcome set backs, work hard, be smart, and have each others' backs.
Last week hearing the scrape of those cleats on the asphalt as the boys entered the stadium, followed by the clash of helmets on the field, made me realize they were fighting for something much greater than possession of the ball or the higher number on the scoreboard.
They were wrestling against something invisible, an enemy that had come to rob them of their fondest memories and their greatest loves.
But Friday night warriors don't lay down their weapons easily. If they have to wait their turn, they wait, but they are always ready to get filthy and fight until the bitter end. They go to war because they love the game and because they have someone who believes in them. That person is you, Coach.
Yes, this season may be difficult, but it is not over. It is not a wash. It is not a hopeless cause.
Abraham Lincoln once said, "I am a success today because I had a friend who believed in me, and I did not have the heart to let him down."
Keep believing in this season and in these boys, Coach. They won't let you down. You'll see the best is yet to come.
One final note, thanks for the noble work you do. For all the colleagues who have ever treated you like you aren't a real teacher because you draw up x's and o's on faculty meeting notes, I have a small reminder. I've been teaching for almost twenty years, but I have never seen the first two students of the day entering any classroom holding a wooden banner that says FAMILY.
Thank you for setting the standard.
We all need to see more of this kind of hope. Will you raise the banner a little higher each week, so we can see it better?
-CDB
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