One of our semi-regular customers named Robert came in early on a Saturday night looking a little “hang-dog.” He slumped at the bar and ordered a beer.
The bartender, who knew where Robert had just come from said, “How did your team do in the playoffs?”
Robert shook his head and gave him a half-smile. “Well, the boys did great considering that seven of our starters had never played before the season started. If it was all about heart and gumption they deserved to win today. I feel bad for them because they’re such a great bunch of kids.”
Just then a man and his young son of about twelve years of age came in the front door and walked up to Robert. He spoke to Robert briefly, and he and his son shook hands with him, and then handed him something. Judging by his tense body language, Robert was moved by whatever they’d told him.
He thanked the two and then they left. Robert turned back to the bar, misty-eyed and trying to clear the frog from his throat, and set a small trophy on the bar that said “World’s Greatest Coach” on it.
He was still teary-eyed when a young woman named Ashley, who had seen the exchange, came over to him and said, “Are you a little league football coach?”
Robert nodded as he turned to face her, and his whole demeanor changed from “hang-dog” to “howdy-ma’am” in a split second. “Yes, well, I was. The season’s over now.”
Robert offered her the seat next to him, which she took and he said, “Well, I don’t know about that but they sure had an impact on me.” They chatted for a while and then Robert asked her to dance.
While they were on the dance floor, the bartender looked at me and said, “Something tells me his losing streak has come to an abrupt halt.”
All Materials ©2015 Heather Rainier