Coaches’ wives are a different breed.
While the world watches us pace the dugout, they’re the ones holding everything else together.
My wife Jessica has packed up our family more times than I can count. Maryland. Oregon. South Carolina. Nevada. Missouri. Back to California.
Every move was a new house, a new school for the kids, a new community to build from scratch.
She’s the one running carpool, doctor visits, IEP meetings, and bedtime routines while I’m 2,000 miles away chasing the next game or recruit.
Coaches’ wives don’t get the press, the bonus checks, or the booster hugs. They get the moves, the long seasons, and the lonely first months in a new town. And they keep loving us anyway.
My name is the one on the press releases, the social media tags, and the trophies. But she is the real MVP. Every win I've ever had has her
fingerprints on it.
The moves, the long seasons, the lonely weekends, she carried it all while I got the credit.
Coaches' wives are a step above the rest. They have to be. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day. ❤️