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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All In A Dad's Work 
This was a wonderful post. really enjoyed his blog too.
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It was a great piece he wrote. I love his blog. He never fails to entertain. Plus he’s a great guy (or at least what I know of him in the blogging world).
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Thanks for the re-blog and kind words, friend. I think I’m kind of like the guy on the blog, but what you don’t see is that I anger motorists by driving the speed limit, have a messy car and tend to lose focus at the slightest provocation.
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That would make you my motorist opposite. I drive 5-10 over the limit. My car is nearly spotless and I have the patience of Job.
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We should be in a sit-com together.
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The Fairly Odd Couple? LOL
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