If you’ve ever been a coach of anything, especially a coach to your own children, you’ll relate to Eli’s eloquent, heartfelt post. Once a coach always a coach. Once a dad, always a dad.
Trophies and medals fought so hard for denigrate quickly to the forgotten.
Even those that find a home in a hallowed hall in a glass case pass through days no one stops to remember. A Lombardi trophy must be dusted. Shiny prizes become relics in record time.
I have medals. All have finalist engraved, which translates to you didn’t win the championship game. But this last one one of my teams won? It felt like finalist+1 even though it hurt like you didn’t win the championship game+1.
It was the last time I got to coach one of my daughters, and we didn’t win the championship. We walked away with so much more.
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