I love the sense of community that oozes out of small Texas towns on a Friday night. My dad, known to Owen as Coach for good reason, coached high school football in my hometown for nearly two decades. As an elementary schooler, I remember wearing my Head Coach's Kid t-shirt around the stadium on game night and feeling like I ruled the world. I could not have been any more proud to be my dad's daughter if he had been president of the whole United States. When I was a teenager, I sat in the stands with the dance line and cheered on my dad and his team. I watched every play, annoyed by the girls around me who didn't even know if we were on offense or defense.
Strange fact: He once had to coach a game in a bullet proof vest because we were getting death threat calls at our house. It even earned him a blurb on the national news and brought the FBI to our living room. Texans take their football seriously.
It worked out perfectly this past weekend that we were able to go to a Crosby Cougar game on my dad's 60th birthday. He's a Kindergarten principal now and says 300 hugs a day is just as much fun as two-a-days. They have a group of kids called Bleacher Creatures who run out on the field ahead of the team as the marching band blares and pounds out the school fight song, and my dad arranged for Owen to run with them. He was a little overwhelmed by the whole spectacle, but it felt great to see him be a part of something that was such a big part of my childhood.