The Coach

This was originally written in February 2005 when Jay was 12 years old.

Jay is on two different hockey teams this year. His one set of coaches this year are nice men, a little loud on the bench, and they believe in physical play. Before the season began, I was at the coaching certification class (I'm assistant coach on Jay's second team) and one of these coaches was there. A nice guy, I'm guessing mid-40's, who definitely lives life out loud, if you know what I mean. 

Anyway, around Christmas time this coach stops appearing at the games. This coach's son is on the team, and is friendly with Jay, but we don't know why the father isn't there. At one point, Jay mentions this coach is in the hospital. The son continues to make the games, but isn't playing as well as his first few games. 

On Saturday night, Jay has a game. As they drop the puck, Brendan tells me the coach is here. I look down to see the coach limping to a spot in the stands. He looks gaunt and pale, has lost alot of weight. It looks as though he has cancer, but I'm not sure. 

The man's son plays his best game of the year, scoring two goals and making some great physical plays. The man applauds and occasionally cheers. When he was a coach on the bench, his voice filled the arena, it's not the same now. 

In the final seconds of the game, Jay checks a kid on the other team very hard and the kid falls to the ice hurt. As the game ends, I walk over to chat with Jay and also make sure this kid is okay. I pass the man, stop and shake hands, "It's good to see you." I tell him. "Your son played a great game tonight." 

I talk with Jay, and suggest he go back on the ice to make sure the kid he levelled is okay. Coaches are attending to the kid who is still laying flat on the ice. I'm concerned this kid is really hurt. Jay skates over and the kid is okay. 

A short time later, the coach limps over to the locker room. He explains that a tumor the size of a golf ball was taken out of his brain, and that it is a miracle that he's alive. Most of the kids have left, it's just Jay and this man's son, me and the head coach. Jay zips his bag up and then sits next to this man. 

"Hi Coach." Jay says to the man. 

The man puts his arm around Jay and says to the other coach, "This kid plays like an animal!" with an approving smile. Jay just grins. 


Postscript - Three weeks later, I'm skiing in Utah when my wife calls me. The man has passed away. She takes our boys to the funeral while I'm skiing.