The best “shot” of the weekend was the one ESPN got of Virginia Tech coach Seth Greenberg being hugged by his daughters after his Hokies upset then #1 Duke Saturday night. Despite the loss, I am sure Coach K could appreciate it – he has certainly had his share of those special moments with his own three girls.
It reminded me of the famous St. Joe’s last second 49-48 upset of #1 DePaul in the first round of the 1981 NCAA Tournament – when Coach Jim Lynam’s co-ed daughter Dei ran out of the stands to jump in her father’s arms (today he is a proud grandfather with eight grandchildren).
But it also reminded me of a time I was lucky enough to have one of those moments with my own daughter. In 1995, the high school team I was coaching at the time won the Conference Championship on a last-second inbound play. And the first person out of the stands was my daughter, all of 11 years old. Editor’s Note: I also wore the same t-shirt to every game. My superstitions played a big part in my dad being named Coach of the Year.
Daughters are special – that is why coaches are blessed with them (it is a fact coaches have girls 80 percent more often than boys, and it’s a proven fact they make the best team managers!). They are the best to come home to after running around the gym yelling at the smelly boys. They are the most loyal and understanding and their love is always unconditional. A daughter may outgrow your lap but she will never outgrow your heart.
Editor’s Note: I spent most of Saturday night watching VTech beat Duke, and I will admit to the world, the sight of Coach Greenberg hugging his daughters, the sight of his daughters crying over such an emotional win, made me bawl my eyes out for about 30 minutes.
For those that may not understand, the coach’s daughter is a very special breed. Because of our father’s job, we learn so much about what it is to be a team, and our dads put us on their team, just as much as they do their staff and their players. His losses are ours (Poughkeepsie, 1995; Bucknell, 2002). His wins are ours (Cornwall, 1995; Holy Cross, 2002). And I can’t tell you how many nights I stayed up waiting for my dad to come home after a bad loss to talk it over with him. We get it, in a way other people may not. I count myself lucky to be a coach’s daughter, and I know no other coach’s daughter who would have it any other way.
Let’s hope that March brings many more Father-Daughter moments.