My Day Two BeKindRewrite submission.

Deb Coleman had been a coach’s wife for thirty years, and regardless of how much time passed, it never seemed to get any easier to watch her husband’s team. People often though that the hardest part of being married to a coach was the time apart from her husband, but that was something she’d always been able to deal with; the real difficulty was in watching him place his future in the hands of 18 to 22 year old boys. His career depended on winning the right games by the right margins and impressing the boosters who had the most money. Into the middle of that mix came 85 players who were, for all intents and purposes, still boys.  They made stupid mistakes, got distracted and handled pressure entirely differently than people even a few years their senior, and that ultimately reflected on her husband.  Now as time ticked down, he had nine seconds to submit to destiny’s whim. If the play worked and they advanced to the semifinals, her husband would be a hero. If they lost, he would have to endure the wrath of the fans, who seemed to forget that, when things went wrong, he was still a human being. Deb remembered with equal measures of pain and anger the look on his face when he awoke the morning after a heartbreaking loss to find his car egged and “you suck” written on the windshield in shaving cream. If her love could overcome adversity for her husband, he’d never lose a game; helplessness came, however, when she realized all she could do was hold her breath and wait for the play to unfold…

(word count- 277….holy hell, I’m getting more long winded….)