Confessions of a Reluctant Assistant Volleyball Coach

It’s embarrassing to be cliché, but that is what I am. You know the age-old story of the grouchy loner, who is accidentally befriended by a lonely child, but through that unlikely friendship is able to show that he really is a good guy after all. That’s me.

I know you don’t think so. You’re thinking, “you’re that really nice lady who helps grieving people.” But like all people, I have another side. And that other side is a prickly, rigid old man. And it’s taken a team of volleyball playing girls and a fair and tolerant head coach to help me learn some new stuff.

Here’s how I became an “assistant coach” for my daughter’s volleyball team 3 years ago: the team was desperate.

The team had a head coach, but they couldn’t find an assistant. I was going through a divorce and felt guilty that I was amping up my work hours and didn’t have time to volunteer at my kids’ school or be more involved there. We were in the middle of a home move due to the divorce. Echoing in my head, I heard advice from a hospice patient from many years ago — a beloved basketball coach. I held that advice inside for ten years, “If you ever get a chance to coach one of your kids’ teams, you should.” His voice, like the voice of Marley from The Christmas Carol, warning me to change my ways.