Today, "Second and forever" refers to a coach's use of the the word, "second." As in:
"I have to run down to the high school for a second."
This has to be the biggest lie a coach will ever utter. Even bigger than, "I'll be home by 6."
Back story. Invariably, there are constant demands on a head coach and, consequently his family also suffers the slings and arrows of said demands. He will receive calls and texts at all hours of the day, all days of the week. And they are always from either male children aged 14 to 18 (also referred to as "football players") or parents who have given birth to one of the aforementioned children. And, since these children are fueled mostly by raging levels of testosterone and extemporaneously administered saccharine, they are complete idiots. They forget things. They have no concept of the space-time continuum. They assume Mr. Coach is just a fixture of the high school. That he exists there, solely. That he will always be there.
Open letter to team members: Hey, Testosteridiots! He has a life! He does not live at the school! He has a family!
Nobody ever reads my open letters. *stunned silence* And, so, we get the calls. Let me just catalog the calls for you so far this season.....
"Coach, I think I left my cell phone in the school." (Good. This is called, "How you get homework done." Or "Time to interact with your family.")
"I can't find my helmet." (SERIOUSLY?!!!?!?!? Your HELMET? You are required to have it on your damn noggin throughout the entire game! How is it an item from which you get separated? You realize this means your head and freaking body were somehow existing apart for a period of time?)
"The lights are still on at the field." (This actually is Mr. Coach's fault. He left them on. It is like toilet seats and bathroom lights. He seems to have issues with things that need to be turned off or put down.)
"I think I left the equipment shed unlocked when you gave me the key." (Other than a couple of tackling dummies and some beat up orange cones, there ain't much to steal in there. I say, leave it.)
Sadly, I pretty much knew all of these trials were part of being a coach's wife, so I really have very little room to complain. I've always known I would be second to football. But I really feel like it should have been part of a pre-nup agreement or at the very least part of our vows:
"I promise to love you. Second and Forever."