Coach Now

He is a frail, weak and sickly old man.

Some time has passed, but he still looks the same to me.

He lays in front of me on his hospital bed in the living room

Face sunken in around his eyes and cheeks

Wife holding his hand, daughter at the foot of the bed

Hospice nurse giving us his paperwork and a run down.

Its funny how for years I rode on his bus to places with the rest of his team

Now he rides on my bus with my team

This time instead of to the football field we travel to the hospital

We talk about the years past

We talk about my life

Lastly we talk about football

Coach was a good man

I'm glad I had the chance to tell him how he influenced me

For Coach was in the final minutes of his final game.

He knew he was losing, and wouldn't tie up the score

That night the Ref's blow the final whistle

Game over

 Good Game Couch, Good Game.

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie

Coach Then

He was a rough, rugged and rotten old man.

Bathed in booze and Cigar smoke

Skin tough as leather

Face wrinkled and weathered from battles in the elements

Eyes cold and grey

A formidable opponent to a high school kid

Making us Bleed, though never laying a hand on us.

Making us sweat until we ran out

Making us suffer at his mere delight

Always on his hill, watching over us

Criticising our every move, our every formation

His voice screaming to get it right

Wrong route; Run The HILL!

Missed the block; Run The HILL!

Fumbled the ball; Run The HILL!

As hard as he was though, he was our Coach

Year after year we returned in early August

To be tortured under his rule.

To young to understand the lessons he was entrusting us with

If I only knew then what I would have learned

Thanks to Coach

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie