Celine Dion is playing on the loudspeaker in the Cougareat, and while it should be inspiring thoughts of true love and harmony, all I can think about is my Cougs.
More specifically Coach Anae, the offensive coordinator for the team.
I've always felt a bond with Coach Anae. Maybe its his Hawaiian charm, or his ability to make me laugh at firesides (When I was at home in CO for May I drove 45 minutes on my dads birthday for a Mendenhall/Anae fireside-best decision I ever made). He is full of wit and skill, and as I sit here listening to Celine, I stare in his direction. He is eating only three tables away with one of his players, whom I can't identify because he is facing away, and I stare at Coach Anae.
And when I say I stare, I STARE. I think we've made eye contact at least 20 times. I try to muster up the courage to go and take a picture with him, but then I realize our connection is much stronger than a simple photograph could capture. I think about how good of friends we could be if given time, and how I would probably make a really good daughter-in-law when I marry his son.
I decide a blog is a close second to a picture, so I begin to write.
Then he just gets up and leaves. Goodbye, Coach, goodbye.
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