Zoe’s volleyball team had their last match of the season this morning, against one of their fiercest competitors. We played them last night, too, and didn’t bring our A game. Or our B game, for that matter. We did okay, but not great. We ended up losing the match by eight points (CYC matches are decided on points, not sets). Today, though, the girls were awake. They did great, and bested their opponent by…wait for it…eight points.
M is their coach, and I can’t tell you what a great coach he is. I mean, he’s phenomenal. And I’m not the only one saying that (nor am I saying it just because he’s my husband and because he’s cute, although those things help, too). I’ve had many parents on the team tell me how much they appreciate him, which is gratifying to hear. He dumps everything he’s got into that team, working with them at practice to better their skills and at games to keep them in the game and upbeat. His job is about 10% coaching and 90% psychologist, and he’s awesome. For him, it’s all about the girls. A winning season means every hand goes up when he asks at the end, “Who wants to come back and play next year?”
Still, today was pretty special. He had been tracking the other teams all year, and we were consistently at the top of the rankings. He told me last night that as long as we reached X points in the match today, we would clinch first place in our division. (Not that it matters.) We worked out a signal for him to let me know across the court that we hit it, and because I am a huge West Wing nerd I made him use the signal from one of my favorite episodes, “What Kind of Day Has It Been,” where the president and staffers are concerned about the space shuttle returning to earth and a downed US pilot in Iraq. They create a signal to let the president know, while he’s in the middle of a town hall meeting, that everything is okay.
When I knew we were getting close, I watched him closely between every point. I wasn’t in the greatest spot; the up ref and pole were right between us, but he ducked around and caught my eye and threw the signal. And, like the big dork I am, I started cheering. Since I was the only person who knew what I was cheering about, I was alone, and cheering for no apparent reason. This is not surprising to anyone who knows me. I filled in the other parents and then waited for the end of the match so I could photograph the girls’ reaction when M told them. I think I have some good shots, but no time to edit them today. We hit two grocery stores, enjoyed lunch out, Zoe rode a pony and looked at a camel, we designed, cleaned and carved a jack-o-lantern, I cleaned the cat box (that being, obviously, not the most fun part of the day), and I started writing this, mainly to fill the last day of a platform challenge (I did every single day, which is my own personal victory) but also because I had a good story to tell. The story being: M rocks as a coach, Zoe’s team is awesome, and I am a huge dork. None of this is news. Time for a shower and a fun night of trick-or-treating with friends.
Tomorrow NaNoWriMo kicks off. And then I write like a mofo.