A (Fri)Day in the Life of a Coach's Wife

Every week, you see her in the same place, at the same time. She looks like everyone else. She wears the school colors, taps along to the beat of the bass drum as the band files into the stadium, and makes conversation as the giant numbers on the scoreboard countdown to kickoff. In reality, however, she’s not like everyone else. Almost all of her clothes are the school colors. It’s hard for her to distinguish between the band’s bass drum and the sound of her own heartbeat on a football Friday night. Her conversation is surface-level and comes a little faster than usual as the clock counts down because this is what her family has prepared for all week. While her husband sits in the “driver’s seat” of the football program, it would be a mistake to think that her entire family hasn’t prepared for 7:00 pm on Friday nights. They have. And, she has been responsible for drawing up just the right plays, week-by-week, to make it to the Friday night finish line.

The coach’s wife. How did she get here? There are as many different answers as the women who hold the title.

Kecia Burns, wife of Cleburne County Head Football Coach, Joby Burns, has been a coach’s wife for 30 years. That’s a lot of football as a coach’s wife, and now, she’s also a coach’s mom. Her son, J.T., currently coaches alongside his dad at Cleburne County. “Watching them on the sidelines is a unique experience for me.

They both coach with everything they have and it is easy to see when you watch them. To say that I am proud would be an understatement,” says Kecia. However, not much has changed by adding “coach’s mom” to her list of titles. She says that Friday nights are always game nights. “In 30 years,” Kecia recalls, “I’ve probably only missed about 5 games.”

The same rings true for Erika Sullivan, wife of Boaz Head Coach, Jeremy Sullivan. “Game attendance has always been a ‘must’ for me, just because I don’t want to miss anything!” Erika says Coach Sullivan is most certainly going to talk about the games at home, and she wants to have seen first-hand what he’s talking about. “It’s even more important now since our son, Ty, plays. It brings a new feeling of excitement to each game when they’re both on the field,” Erika says.

Excitement comes in all shapes and sizes, though. Sometimes, the excitement of the week can be so much that mom has to call an audible, according to Morgan Easley, wife of Munford Head Coach Michael Easley. “Michael truly loves to see them at the game, mostly because it’s one of the only times he gets to see them that day. However, we always make the decision about the game based on what is best for our well-being,” says Morgan. She says that, while she and her daughters Whitleigh Jo (4) and Lyla Gray (2) try to make all the home games a priority, if it’s an away game and it’s been a tough week, they will sometimes stay home to get take out and enjoy a movie night. Morgan also says that decision also often makes it easier on Coach Easley, if the game is a long way away. “He doesn’t like me on the road late by myself with the girls. I think when he’s worried about our well-being, that’s more of a distraction for him than us not being there when he knows we are safe at home and can focus on the game.”

For all three coaches’ wives, game day actually starts on Thursday nights, whether it’s packing a game-day bag, loading a car for an away game, or enjoying a meal with the team. Morgan takes time each Thursday night to make treat bags for the players with short messages of encouragement—a job she completes with the help of her oldest daughter. “We weren’t given biological boys,” Morgan says with a laugh, “but I say it’s because God gave us 50+ boys to love.”

In Boaz, Friday morning for Erika begins with breakfast with the team before school. “We usually have Jack’s biscuits. I am there first thing with a few other moms to serve and pour drinks,” she says. Service seems to be a way to channel the inevitable nervous energy that he knows I will be.” Pep rally attendance is something all three wives enjoy and since they are all employed in the same school system as their husbands, it’s one more opportunity to support the team and their coaches—a theme that runs deep through the course of conversation with them.

When the school bell rings, Morgan stops by pre-game meal in the lunchroom. “Michael and I quickly catch up with each other before I need to leave to pick up our girls from preschool. Once I pick up the girls, we head home to get ready.”

Friday night meals look vastly different for each of the coaches’ wives. Morgan and her girls typically enjoy a meal at home, although traveling to an away game often calls for Jacks or Chick-fil-A. Erika prepares something for tailgating with the football player parents—after all, she is one. And Kecia, well, she sits that one out. “I do not eat dinner on game days,” she says, adding that she is just too nervous to eat before a game.

Finally, it’s game time. “I always like to get to the game by 6:00 pm, whether it is at home or away,” Kecia says. Like most coaches’ wives, she has a particular place she likes to sit, too. “Always around the 50-yard line. You have to make sure you don’t sit next to people that talk about the coaching. I don’t do well with that,” she adds, with a smile. Kecia says that the best part of being in the stands is being with the coaches’ wives and her family every game. “These coaches’ wives are truly like family. Everyone has the same vested interest on the field and are truly concerned for each other.”

Erika is in the bleachers, too—all alone. Her daughter, Aly, serves as a water girl for the football team while her son plays linebacker and tight end for her husband and his Boaz Pirates. The first year that both kids were on the field, Erika spent so much time pacing in the endzone that she was given her own set of bleachers in that very spot at the home games. “That is my seat! No matter where I sit, though, I am usually alone. People say I am too loud and crazy for them,” she says. Not that it bothers her in the least. Her noise makers, megaphone and cowbells keep her company. Although she adds, with a laugh, “Some very brave coaches’ wives do like my company at times.”

Solitude is not a problem that Morgan faces. “The girls love being at the game, and they especially love the cheerleaders,” she says. “They haven't quite mastered when not to cheer and typically cheer for the other team’s touchdowns, too.” As one can imagine with two children under the age of 5, sitting rarely happens at all during the game, but when it does, it’s on the track or…any place away from the bleachers.

Insulating themselves from negative fan noise is another thing that all three wives have in common. Erika recalls that in her younger days, she was a bit “reactive” and sensitive to the negative comments. “As I have gotten older, I intentionally sit away from ‘triggers’ so that I can enjoy the game.” Dozens of miles may separate their schools, but Kecia confirms that Erika’s experience isn’t unique to the schools at which her husband has coached. “The worst part is when you have those fans that always seem to know what plays would have worked better,” says Kecia, adding, “I sit with the other coaches’ wives. If we all sit together, we know we aren’t sitting around people that may complain about the coaches.” Morgan’s solution is to skip the bleachers altogether. “Honestly, I don’t sit in the bleachers. Michael’s first and second season at Munford didn’t have the greatest results and fans were just downright ugly in the stands. The third season, I started sitting on the track at home games. My girls get to play and I don’t worry about them falling in the bleachers,” Morgan says. However she also admits that, in spite of the rough start, Friday night is now like a reward. “We’ve gone all week without seeing much of Michael and the game is a time we get to be a part of his work. It’s important to me that the memory my girls have of Friday night lights isn’t consumed by negative fans and tense bleacher moments, but rather fun.”

A victory line visit here and there. Clapping along with the band. Cheering for the successes. Holding their breath in the failed attempts. 48 “official” minutes later, it’s over. A tiny speck of time in the week that has, for these ladies, revolved around the game. Erika makes her way on to the field. She realizes this is a unique and fleeting time—a time when three of her greatest blessings in life spend a couple of hours every Friday night with one singular goal in mind—a win for the Boaz Pirates. Ty is a Junior and these days of watching her husband coach him will soon be just a sweet memory.

“They have talked about being together like this for such a long time,” Erika says, with a smile that could easily give way to a tear. “I find myself full of feelings when I think how fast that end is approaching.”

In the last four years at Cleburne County, post-game traditions have become one of Kecia’s favorite parts. After every home game, all the coaches and their families meet at one of the coaches’ houses to eat and fellowship. Kids play. Wives talk. Coaches break down plays. It’s like one big family, and for Kecia, a coach’s wife and a coach’s mom—that’s exactly what it is. “To be able to watch my husband and son coach together is rare and special. And I realize that,” she says. “And there is nowhere else I would rather be.”

Morgan and Coach Easley find each other after the games, too, and make their way to the car. Not to leave together, mind you, (there’s game film to watch) but rather to change two little girls into their pajamas before leaving for the night. Little ones get sleepy after a big night, and Friday nights are always big nights. But “big” doesn’t have to look the same for everyone.

“Life as a coach’s wife/family looks different for everybody. There is no right or wrong way,” says Morgan, as she considers the rhythm of her family during football season. “I think there is a lot of pressure, if you're on social media, for being a coach’s wife to look a certain way. But, that’s just not the case. It’s an individual journey and should be enjoyed without pressure.” ►