No one commanded respect like ‘The Coach.’

Today’s story is from Jean Herges.

Everyone noticed, everyone stopped. The cockiest kids lowered their gaze, boys obeyed. “He scares me,” admitted a burly linebacker friend. I smiled.

Jean and her dad Pete Herges, 82

I knew a secret about Dad. But first, let me set the stage. We lived in a small Minnesota town (of 1,600). Sports dominated our life. Farming was most everyone’s trade.

Dad was Athletic Director. He also coached football and golf. In our sports town, he was ‘The Coach.’ I was a cheerleader for the team.

What was my secret on Dad? Dad disappeared after Friday night games, also on Saturdays. What took him away? Fishing? Golf? Secret outings with “the guys”? Many speculated, few knew.   

He washed Jockstraps & Towels.

I was there with my twin sis. A ritual since we were just 5. We helped Dad wash those Jockstraps & Towels. The jockstraps were purple (dyed the school color). They had an interesting shape. Those butt-bands snapped good. Some were real big. Some were quite small.

As we grew older, we played a fun game. Which strap? Which guy? Did players know ‘The Coach’ washed their Jockstraps & Towels?

His players were farm boys. They had to do chores and milk cows. Dad lightened their load. He drove them home after practice, every day. He helped them in so many ways. Jockstraps & Towels? This is the first they will hear.

My father was revered, perhaps even feared. He was The Coach. In our town, he was The Man. But ego never got to my dad. No task was too low.

The lesson I learned?

When jockstraps need care, winners are there. Winners do Jockstraps & Towels. They do it all.