Being part of a coaching family isn’t something we take for granted. In fact, it’s something we choose, and we choose this over and over again.
We embrace this lifestyle with our entire hearts. Period.
When you’re a coach’s wife, your family becomes part of something bigger than yourselves. You learn quickly that Friday nights, bus rides, and long hours aren’t just part of the job; they’re part of the calling. You learn to pack snacks for late nights at the fieldhouse, to cheer for kids who aren’t your own, and to hold down the fort when your coach is breaking down film long after the house has gone quiet.
We love your kids and your communities just as much as you do. We may not have graduated from your high school, and we may not have six generations rooted in your hometown, but I promise you, we love your community just as deeply.
We show up. We buy the shirts, wear the colors, and celebrate every win like it’s our own. Because in a way, it is.
Our children may not have grown up playing Little League with your children, but they’ve learned to be “all in” wherever their dad coaches. They know how to make friends fast, how to sit quietly through staff meetings, and how to be the loudest voices on the sidelines, cheering for your kids —our extended family —under the lights.
And while we never know how long we’ll be part of a particular community, one season, five years, or a decade, I can promise you this: while we’re here, we are all in. We love it like we were raised here. We give our time, our energy, our hearts. We celebrate your kids’ successes and feel their heartbreaks right alongside you.
Being a coaching family means planting roots that may be temporary, but growing love that lasts forever. Every stop, every team, every town becomes a part of who we are.
So, to every parent, teacher, and neighbor who’s ever welcomed us in, thank you. You make it possible for us to keep showing up with full hearts and open arms. Because for our family, this isn’t just a job. It’s a life. It’s a ministry.
It’s love in motion, under the lights, in the stands, and in every corner of the community we’re blessed to call “home,” for however long we’re lucky enough to be here.