Early Spring, when the birds are chirping and the tulips are blooming and all is right with the world. But, hark! Football lurks beneath.
Six months removed from last season and six months until the next one is upon us is a very dangerous time in a football coaching household. You see, all of the scars of the last season have magically healed. All of the pain of the losses has been salved by time. The anguish and long hours have been forgotten and suddenly don't seem so bad. A giant band aid is affixed to our collective painful memories, and football amnesia takes over like a plague. And the wife yells, "No, no no no no!!! Do not let go of those memories!! Give into your hate, Luke! Come over to the Dark Side!! Remember the pain!!!"
And the husband can't hear you because he has lost his mind. (Or doesn't understand obscure Star Wars references.)
Further, even worse than forgetting the past is an unrealistic projection of the future. Without warning, we have inexplicably risen (in his mind) to possible league champion contenders. All of the sudden, napkins start disappearing from the dinner table and I find them with plays scribbled on them. Our debit card starts having charges to online companies that sell coaching DVD's and books. (I say things like, "So THIS is the $250 DVD set that is going to be what wins it for us THIS time?" And he says, "What?" like he doesn't hear me, but I know he does.) Our weekends are cluttered with mini-camps and coaching clinics. And the wife must admit defeat.
There is no stopping the football train. It is like the US Mail Service: "Not losses, nor lack of talent; nor dearth of knowledge, nor a deficit of memory will keep them from their appointed rounds. Football coaches will go through with another season."
If only our receivers ran their routes with the same accuracy as the mailman walks his.