I love football, mostly because it keeps the boy folk in this house occupied every Saturday for a few months. No, really, I have always loved watching college football, even when I was watching it on a teeny tiny screen with antennas when I lived in my first off campus apartment way back in my North Greenville College days. I love the triumph, the victory, the special interest stories. In fact, ESPN's 30 for 30's usually cause a little lump to gather in my throat.
This year, however, I became a football mom. A real hard tackling football mom. How did these children get old enough for this sport? Why did their parents decide it was such a good idea to let them even play this violent sport? And I'm sure one of my friends is wondering how on earth I helped convince her to sign her son up! Misery loves company, I guess! Our hope was that they would play one year, get knocked on their butts a few times and decide this wasn't the game for them. So far, our hope hasn't come to fruition.
Since August, this little weird shaped brown ball has taken over our lives. For a month and a half, we had football practice for someone 5 nights a week. World rocked!
Now we have 2 games one night a week, most weeks. For some reason we're coming up on a 2 week stretch with no football games. Can you say LONG night? What am I going to do with myself for that one night a week for the next 2 weeks when I don't have a 2 year old crawling all over me, begging for snacks and drinks, or wandering a quarter mile away from her older sister who has been given the task of watching her? Do you know just how exhausting the antics of a discontent 2 year old at a football field can be? Thankfully we have a good system in place where we end up at the field in 2 cars. I stay for the first game and a little of the second and the father of this bunch stays for the duration of the second game.
As I was watching the Georgia/Alabama and the Clemson/Notre Dame games yesterday, I informed the boys that if it were ever pouring cats and dogs during a football game, that I would not be in attendance! I know so loving and sacrificing of me! The people in the stands, those cheerleaders, the refs - they all looked absolutely miserable. I love them. I love the fact that they love playing football, but I sure don't love being a rained on, wet rat looking spectator. Sorry young lads!
We had the unfortunate experience this week of participating in a game where 2 coaches from the opposing team got into an altercation with each other in the middle of the game, before the end of the 1st half. The team we were playing has a long winning record, like years and years. They have dominated our league, apparently. On this particular night, our little Cougars weren't letting them run the score up and the plays they were attempting were getting shut down. (Hold that Line! I was a cheerleader for one year of my life.) We can only guess that is what set these two coaches off and against each other. The game had to be called - a forfeit by the other team. Our people skidattled out of the field as quickly as possible.
My first thoughts about this whole situation, other than being glad I wasn't there to get my blood pressure pumping, was how unfortunate for these kids! This is the example set for them. Winning as the ONLY thing. That any disagreement should result in an altercation and threats. That whatever grievance these coaches had with each other was worth shutting an entire game down that these kids, ours and theirs, had been practicing and preparing for, for months. These kids are watching and observing. As a matter of fact, one kid, during the 8 year old game, was tossed out of the game for unsportsmanlike conduct for pushing one of our kids while he was laying on the field, post tackle. Where do you think he learned that? Just a terribly sad situation and one that I don't wish any parent or child should have to witness.
These are kids. Many of whom will never play football past this level. This is a sport. It is purely for fun. Winning and losing are part of the equation. I hate to see my teams, my kids, lose, ever, but sometimes we aren't cheering for the better team or the team who gave the best effort. I want my kids to be kids as long as possible. I want them to enjoy sports! Being a part of a team, that sense of belonging, is way more vital to their lives than having a perfect record playing peewee football.
Regardless of how many times my little center hiked the ball short or over the QB's head, I'm still proud of him. (I cast blame on myself for his not having a 100% snapping game last week because we got in an emotional fiasco looking for his uniform socks before he left for the game.) He put his uniform on. He did his part for the team. He stood on the field for almost every play of the game! He had to give up Bo Jackson's number after the first game, and though he was disappointed to change his number, he did it willingly. He also changed positions mid season because one of his coaches figured out that he could snap the ball pretty well. Team player!
And my little defensive player who is working his way up the depth chart from playing his mandatory 8 plays a game to getting into the regular rotation, I'm proud of him for never giving up. (tears are starting to well) I'm proud of him for proving that he can do his job on the football field, for showing his coaches that he can catch just about every pass that is thrown to him. One day he'll get his chance to show off his wide receiver skills in a real game, I'm sure. This child will make a great assistant coach or statistician some day with his knowledge and passion for the game of football! Standing on the sidelines or being an active force in the game, he's my son and I'm proud to call him mine.
If one of these precious boys of mine should ever get terribly injured playing football, I'm not sure what I would do with myself. I guarantee hysterics will be part of my display. For now, I'll just pray their high tech helmet and proper tackling technique by the other team serve them well. I'll also pray for clear skies and 75 degree temperatures on all game nights.
Go Cougars!
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