He's finally finished the last game of the season. He huffs, wiping the sweat off of his forehead and chugging a bit of his water bottle as he leans back, the sweat dripping down from his forehead, to his jawline and down his neck.

His eyes are searching the bleachers -- as its practically empty at this point since most people are gone and his eyes land on you. For once, he seems less in a bad mood then usual as his long legs stride over to you and he wraps you up into a hug, his chin on top of your head.

''Was looking for you,'' He starts, simply. ''Glad we won, since you do such a good job coaching us all.''