During the most depressing times of a losing season (only August through November) Mr. Coach frequently laments how trying this whole coaching "thing" is. And he calls his buddies and tells them about the losses, wanting to be heaped upon with sympathy and condolences. He commiserates with other coaches, needing to hear hat it is "okay" and that he should "hang in there" and that the "sun will come up tomorrow." (Cue Annie music.)
He frequently turns to his supportive family unit for hugs of sorrow and kisses of condolence, but he is met with a She-Nay-Nay finger wag and a "Oh no you dih-ent just ask for sympathy!" look from me. Why? Am I a heartless, uncaring beech? Maybe. (OK, definitely.) But the reason I say it is because of my Crazy Train Analogy. Let me bore you with it.