Page 8 - kappbook2020

GOODBYE,COACH

By Joe Kapp

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1993
11 :00 A.M.

I didn't hear the phone right. I could barely hear anything over the
breathless giggles and shrieks of laughter from my three little kid-
dies as they mugged ol' Dad in the middle of our den floor. We were
obliviously involved in our routine Saturday-morning pajama ver-
sion of World Championship Wrestling. These weekly romps are ob-
vious fun for kids., but even more special to me. I've been an athlete
all my life, even played professional football, so I tend to relate to
the world on a more physical basis than most people. To Will, Gaby,
and Emi, our three-on-one weekend dckle fests are pure delight. To
me, each hug, each stolen kiss on the cheek is one more precious
memory to treasure.
It takes tremendous concentration to fend off a trio of energetic
grade-schoolers determined to pin your shoulders to the ground.
When the phone rang a second time, I heard it, but my hands were
full of bare feet and tiny, flailing arms. My wife, Jennifer, picked up

the phone in the kitchen. Buried under a Medusa-like crown of minia-
ture arms, legs, tummies, and grinning faces, I didn't know how long
she was on the phone and I didn't see her come into the den ... but
I felt her standing over us. When I looked up at her face, it was clear