Living Happily Ever After

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No Star Coach, That’s For Sure

“I’m a rock star because I couldn’t be a soccer star.” (Rod Stewart)

Not really. Truth be told, I’m neither! The first practice after my unexpected coaching experience at the first game reminded me of that and why.

Early in my marriage (before I had children) I was asked to coach a girl’s basketball team for my church congregation. They’d already had the team meeting and coach meeting to give instruction and direction to the coaches prior to my assignment, so I just held practice and showed up at the games.

I wasn’t worried. I loved basketball and had played a lot of basketball in my day. I knew the game, so I coached the way I’d been coached as a basketball player—including sometimes setting scoring goals and shouting them out as a team cheer to motivate ourselves. The season was a success. My team made it to the finals and were looking forward to playing the “championship” game when I was notified our team had been disqualified.

I was stunned! When I asked the reason for our disqualification, I was told it was because of bad sportsmanship. I was stunned again because the girls on my team had been great sports, had never lost control, had cheered each other on, had welcomed new players to the team (even inexperienced ones), and were polite and kind to everyone, including their opponents. I couldn’t imagine what the league officials were talking about so I asked for clarification, and when I got it, I felt terrible.

The officials told me my team had bad sportsmanship because we “ran up the score” at every game we played. Ran up the score? What was that? I had always played to win, and teams win in basketball by making baskets and scoring points, I thought that was the name of the game! The officials corrected that for me. No, the point of the game was to have fun and they accused me, again, of running up the score and told me their decision to disqualify my team was final.

I had just coached as I’d been coached and played, I was simply trying to set performance goals for the girls—”lets score 10 points this half.” I had never meant to “run up” a score or exhibit poor sportsmanship! And there I’d cheered, all season long, encouraging my team to shoot and score, oblivious to the league rules (because I’d been asked to coach late and had missed all the coaching meetings) and probably giving the impression to everyone watching that I was a “poor sport” and out for blood at each and every game. I was so embarrassed at what people must have thought of me. (I was still in my 20s; I hadn’t lived an unexpected life yet.)

My first coaching experience was a raging success! (NOT. “Team  Disqualified for Coach’s Poor Sportsmanship”  could have been the headline.) And then, over 20 years later, I show up to my first practice as assistant coach of a boy’s “6 And Under” soccer team and found out not much had changed.

“Yes, there is a little group of soccer aficionados, but I am not one of them.” (Gay Talese)

Bummer.

Dressed To Spectate, But…

“Coaching is easy. Winning is the hard part.” (Elgin Baylor)

My youngest is playing soccer, for the first time, this fall. It’s something he has been begging to participate in for a couple of years, so we decided to try it this year. As the start of the season approached, I began getting emails from the league, “Your child has been placed on a team. However, we still need a coach, an assistant coach, and a team parent for your child’s team. Please volunteer.”

I confess, I ignored those requests. I was a basketball player; I never played soccer, I knew nothing about the game (other than I think you can’t touch the ball with your hands); not to mention the fact that I work full-time in another city from where the soccer practices and games take place.

As the day of the first game approached, the same emails kept coming. I finally responded with one of my own: “I’ve never played soccer, I know nothing about soccer, but I am willing to coach if you need me to,” thinking surely, one of those dads of the boys on the team would volunteer! I didn’t hear anything back, assumed a dad had stepped forward, and showed up at the first game. Expecting to spectate. To find out…I was the assistant coach!

I was dressed to spectate (in a skirt and flip flops), not coach, but I joined the boys on the field and did the best I could to provide encouragement, direction, to help control a little kindergarten boy-age chaos and propensity to wrestle even when they should be playing soccer and, of course, to learn the rules of the game. (Many thanks to Tyler, a little boy on my team, who coached the assistant coach that first game!)

We all survived the first soccer game. I’m not sure who won (I don’t think we keep score at this young age). I only know several boys on my team, including my son, scored goals; and that we had a very supportive cheerleader, my husband, cheering all of us on and making sure we had plenty of water during the breaks (especially the assistant coach) from the sidelines.

As I walked off the field at the end of the first game, all I could do was shake my head at ANOTHER unexpected adventure…in the unexpected life.

Life is like that, you know.

“Coaching in the NBA is not easy. It’s like a nervous breakdown with a paycheck.” (Pat Williams)

My experience is slightly easier than that, thank goodness! No paycheck, but no breakdowns, either. At least, not during that first game.

More to come.

Stay tuned.

Bachelor #7: The Tallest Man in The World

The one thing you could call my new life is unexpected. Definitely.

And if you were going to name my divorce anything, aside from unexpected (definitely), I would say it should be called, “The Divorce of Dating Basketball Players.” Bachelor #7 is just one more reason why.

When I was single the first time, in the beloved 1980s, I loved athletes and tall men. I dated some basketball players, football players, golfers, swimmers, rugby players, baseball players, volleyball players, even a gymnast (that is a blog in itself!); but the tallest guy I ever dated was a 6’8″ U.S. Olympic Volleyball player. My divorce changed all of that.

My divorce of Dating Former Basketball Players.

Now the tallest man I’ve ever dated is a 6’9″ former college basketball player.

Hello, Bachelor #7.

He was a very handsome, very fit, very nice man who had been married even longer than I had been. (I didn’t meet many men who had been married to the same woman for 20 years or longer.) He had a good job, financial stability and owned his own home. (Also not that common, in my single experience.) Our birthdays were one month apart. He loved to travel and spoke Spanish. His kids were in college, he had a very carefree existence and worked out two hours every day at the gym. (Who has time for that? A single man!)

The usual first date conversation always included questions about how long you were married, why you got divorced and when you got divorced. Bachelor #7 didn’t ask me any of that. So I asked him. He hesitated on that last question. He looked at me, sheepishly, and told me I didn’t want to know when he’d divorced. Of course, then, I had to know.

Hesitatingly, he said, “June 2009.” He didn’t want to tell me when he’d divorced because it had occurred so “recently.” He was afraid I’d run the other way. I just laughed. And he was the one who laughed when I told him I’d divorced even more recently than that–July 2009!

Neither of us had met anyone as new to everything that was the unexpected, single life as we both were. Our inexperience bonded us. We laughed a lot and had a lot of fun. We helped each other adjust. We helped each other heal.

He introduced me to his passion: scuba diving.

He even took me to his work parties. Talk about pressure! Going on a date and knowing your behavior could positively or negatively impact a man’s career! THAT was a lot of trust he placed in me. We joked about that–and that fact that we hoped my leopard-print heels and friendly conversation got him a promotion! (I’ll say one thing about Bachelor #7. It was so nice to wear any heel of any height and not worry about my height. Even at 5’9″ and in heels, I never even got close to being able to see over his shoulder!)

It was definitely a relationship of “opposites attract.” Those who know me best know how absolutely un-technological I am, especially when it comes to computers. Bachelor #7 was an I.T. guy!

We were at the same stage of divorce recovery–happy being single, not anxious to get married the first year after our divorce, but neither of us wanted to be single three years later. (Aren’t we particular? I hope our plans work out for us! Lol.)

We went through some “firsts” together, too, like first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Year’s Eve single again, going on a date on his original wedding anniversary, etc… Yet he could never quite get past the fact that I had “four children and not one of them were his.” (His words.)

I could not get past his height, believe it or not (and one or two other less shallow things!) Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE height. So I was shocked to discover I eventually thought he was too tall! I didn’t like having to hold my arm “up” when he held my hand. I wasn’t used to that. The voice of experience, (my teenage son) told me to get over it; “welcome to the world of how it is for most women, or short women, when they hold hands with someone.”

But I couldn’t. As Julia Roberts said, “I’m too tall to be a girl. I’m between a chick and a broad.”

I couldn’t get over that, or the sense that Bachelor #7 just wasn’t that into the idea of raising a four-year-old. I couldn’t blame him. He’s turning 50 this year!

We dated about five months and just drifted apart. I guess I got busy with other things (other people.) He finally asked if I’d met someone. I responded to that query in my usual way of responding to something I don’t want to–I ignored it and didn’t respond! Instead, I lined him up with a friend of mine.

I hope they hit it off.

Adios, to the tallest man in MY world! Adios, Bachelor #7.

Bachelor #6: The Ghostbuster

“Computer dating is fine… if you’re a computer.” ~ Rita Mae Brown

I met Bachelor #6, a former semi-pro basketball player, online. He was friendly, funny and had led a very interesting and colorful life.

I was upfront about having four children. His response? “No problem, I love children. I have three daughters of my own and the last woman I was married to had six kids!”

The LAST woman he had married? I asked for clarification on that, he said he didn’t want to scare me off, but he admitted to having been married twice already.

My perspective of marriage and dating had changed a lot after being single and meeting other singles. What in my experience most of my adult life had not been that common (divorce), was now very common in my new world. And what was becoming almost the norm for most men I met, was having been married and divorced more than once. I tried to keep an open mind. After all, that is what I expected people to have about me.

Then I moved on to the big one. The part about me having a former spouse in prison. For many, that can be a deal breaker. (And I blame no one who finds that it is. Until I became the unaware and innocent spouse of a man who confessed to running a Ponzi scheme and was now imprisoned, I would have felt the same way, I’m sure!) It was best to get the bigger details of my life out into the open right away.

Bachelor #6 took the criminal behavior of my former spouse in stride. He told me most people would judge me about that, but not him. He felt only one perfect person had ever lived on the earth and only one person was qualified to judge others. Besides, he had relatives in prison!

Was he meant for me or what? Lol.

He was a GREAT storyteller and had a lot of good stories (mostly based on his life and his experiences.) He lived in his own place, but cooked dinner for his parents who lived in the same town every night. And..he believed in ghosts! He had lived with one and talked to it. A lot.

“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.” (Charles Dickens)

The relationship lasted four months. Before it ended, there was a marriage proposal. It would never have worked though. Although I loved his height and his sense of humor, we were very different and had very different experiences. In spite of my past (the former spouse in prison thing), I couldn’t quite come to terms with his. And besides, he was a bit too friendly with ghosts for my comfort!

“WHO YA GONNA CALL? GHOSTBUSTERS!”

On to the next one. Bachelor #7.