But what if there is an answer that we could look towards to help calm nerves and anxieties, as the unknowns start to play out before us within the next month.
Even if we don’t get to play a single down, students will still need our husbands. They will need them for stability, leadership, and discipline. They will watch to see how they handle the disappointment of a missed season. What better time to teach them, by example, that circumstances can take your happiness but it can’t take your joy. Joy comes from the Lord, not the world.
The “will there be a season” question seemed silly in March because, well, it was March.
But somewhere between the cancellation of Spring football and the news today, the question felt like a weight pressing on my chest.
And, while sports are certainly minor in comparison to keeping the world safe, the pain we may encounter still matters. It matters very much.
It’s okay if you’re mourning the loss of something you’ve worked really hard for (like so many of our coaches are currently doing). You’re allowed to mourn.
For our tribe, band kids always reign supreme—because if you can march backwards playing music and survive sight reading and summer camp, then, by George, we think you have a darn good shot at being amazing. Because you already are.
Our family is a coaching family. I will never again question that. If and when sports go back to normal, I am not saying I won’t complain when coach isn’t home to help force my 4-year-old into the bathtub, but I will know what it’s like on the other side, the side without sports.
In this unprecedented time of uncertainty, that is the one thing of which I am sure. Even if you don’t step on that field again, your senior season matters.
We will go back to our regular routines at some point and are setting ourselves up for failure upon that return if we abandon all sense of normalcy now. We also truly don’t know how long social isolation will be our new normal, and how long can we really sit around and binge-watch anyway?