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Football


I grew up in a football fanatic family - on Saturdays and Sundays I can vividly recall playing in the basement while my parents were whooping, yelling and jumping up-and-down upstairs to some Bears, Lions or Packers game. It was hard to play beauty parlor with that kind of racket going on upstairs.

Then my youngest brother Michael became a football player all the way to Alma College. I went to a few of his games, because I wanted to be a good/supportive sister - but I really didn't get it. It was all so violent - and that was just in the stands.

So, when this lucky mom had two sons, I didn't want them to play football. I wanted them to play chess or run cross country or play golf or tennis. So, I posed this argument to my loving and supportive husband. He didn't think that forbidding them to play football was a good idea. I countered that the potential for serious injury was huge when playing football in high school and later. He countered with the argument that sealed my bleacher-sitting fate - "Well, if we let them play when they're young they'll realize how much it hurts and they won't want to play later." At the time, it sounded logical.

One of the first practices for our eldest son, I watched him get knocked to the ground by a team mate that was twice his size. I think someone held me back from knocking the team mate to the ground. Yet I hoped it would end Michael's football aspirations. That didn't - it took several more seasons until he was going into ninth grade before he opted for golf over football.

But, as you can see from the picture above our second son Matthew still plays - not only plays football but LOVES nearly everything about the game. He is a smart football player, or so we've been told by the coaches who ask for his help on and off the field. Despite my long-time 'dislike affair' with the sport, I really do love to watch my son playing.

It helps that he hasn't had a serious injury. In one game of Michael's in middle school he was splayed on the ground, injured and I was up out of my seat about to rush the field when a good friend grabbed the back of my jacket and said, "Don't - it would be embarrassing". It happened again a couple years later with Matthew. I believe they have evaded serious injury because they play defensive or offensive line; they're the ones tackling the guy with the ball. The runner who is running full-steam ahead and is the one likely to get injured when he runs into Matthew - the brick wall.

So, now I'm the Mom in the stands with the button that has a picture of her son on it. I'm waving pom-poms and yelling at the idiotic referees on the field or the player that obviously face-masked my son. I am the mom yelling loudly when her son makes a great play or tackle. And I am the mom who sits silently by when one of the players is slow to get up - because inside I'm praying not only for the player but for that player's mom who is also sitting in the stands with a friend's hand on the back of her jacket.

I'm not much of a football fanatic, though. I still don't watch many games on television (though everyone else in the house does!) and when Matthew graduates and likely ends his football career, I won't be sitting in the bleachers on a Friday night anymore. But these Fridays have been ones to treasure!!!
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It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

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