For the family of a college football coach, a white Christmas was an ominous sign. It meant we were home for the holidays after a losing season, not at a bowl game in some sunny clime. A white Christmas often came with a pink slip for Dad and the entire coaching staff from the athletic department, which meant we'd all be moving again soon. One of my dad's coaching mantras was "Get with the program, you big turkey!" But I was not a cooperative team member when it came to moving.
By the sixth grade, I'd been to two bowl games and four schools.
To read the rest of the essay, go here.