I really never liked or even understood football. All the jumping on top of each other and hitting each other as hard as you could seemed pretty barbaric to me. While I attended a few games for social purposes, I never really "got" what was going on and really just watched the clock run down hoping there would not be any time outs to extend my agony!
I did not encourage my son to play football and quietly smiled as my tall and strong 10 year old son said he would rather play fall baseball.....but as you might guess from where this story started....times and boys' interests change...and one hot September afternoon, my son was playing his first football game. I watched cautiously and with trepidation for sure and REALLY watched the clock run down hoping there would not be any time outs to extend my agony! My stress level was always high when he was playing - no mamma wants their baby to be at the bottom of the pile. I never totally understood the game - nor did I really want to fully understand it. Yes, I figured out getting 4 turns with the ball and needing to go the magic 10 yards for another chance; however, the positions and the rules still eluded me.
When it appeared evident that the agony associated with watching the clock run down hoping there would not be any time outs was likely to extend to his college years, I did "bite the bullet" and start to study the sport. I learned the positions and why a safety had nothing do do with being safe and I got myself a red sweatshirt to cheer his team on....They were indeed games where the cold took your breath away and where you really did have to SHOVEL your seat before you sat down. There was rain and there were a lot of long Saturdays; however, I realized that for my son, there was something magical out there on the field that happened when you tried your hardest and left your blood sweat and tears on the field. Quietly, I began to see the magic and excitement .. I must admit I felt a touch of sadness as I watched the clock run down during his last college game; the agony I felt was only concern for him at the bottom of the pile.
As you already know, times change and and boys become men and a few of the very lucky players become coaches who still get excited about the Friday Night Lights.
SO, last night when I got home late, hungry and tired after a long week of figuring out how the Common Core Standards will make the world a better place (more about that SOON) while simultaneously really saving the world with my big bag of teaching strategies, my husband greeted me excitedly with, "let's go to Matt's game!"
"We'll be a little late" I noted (like an hour I thought!!!!) but a part of me really did want to go.....and with that....he turned on the television.
So, on a cold windy October night, I watched the whole game.
I have indeed reached to pinnacle of the reluctant sports mommas....I really wanted the game to go just a little longer, not only because I was wrapped in a quilt in my family room; but also because they just might have pulled out a victory!
I did not encourage my son to play football and quietly smiled as my tall and strong 10 year old son said he would rather play fall baseball.....but as you might guess from where this story started....times and boys' interests change...and one hot September afternoon, my son was playing his first football game. I watched cautiously and with trepidation for sure and REALLY watched the clock run down hoping there would not be any time outs to extend my agony! My stress level was always high when he was playing - no mamma wants their baby to be at the bottom of the pile. I never totally understood the game - nor did I really want to fully understand it. Yes, I figured out getting 4 turns with the ball and needing to go the magic 10 yards for another chance; however, the positions and the rules still eluded me.
When it appeared evident that the agony associated with watching the clock run down hoping there would not be any time outs was likely to extend to his college years, I did "bite the bullet" and start to study the sport. I learned the positions and why a safety had nothing do do with being safe and I got myself a red sweatshirt to cheer his team on....They were indeed games where the cold took your breath away and where you really did have to SHOVEL your seat before you sat down. There was rain and there were a lot of long Saturdays; however, I realized that for my son, there was something magical out there on the field that happened when you tried your hardest and left your blood sweat and tears on the field. Quietly, I began to see the magic and excitement .. I must admit I felt a touch of sadness as I watched the clock run down during his last college game; the agony I felt was only concern for him at the bottom of the pile.
As you already know, times change and and boys become men and a few of the very lucky players become coaches who still get excited about the Friday Night Lights.
SO, last night when I got home late, hungry and tired after a long week of figuring out how the Common Core Standards will make the world a better place (more about that SOON) while simultaneously really saving the world with my big bag of teaching strategies, my husband greeted me excitedly with, "let's go to Matt's game!"
"We'll be a little late" I noted (like an hour I thought!!!!) but a part of me really did want to go.....and with that....he turned on the television.
So, on a cold windy October night, I watched the whole game.
I have indeed reached to pinnacle of the reluctant sports mommas....I really wanted the game to go just a little longer, not only because I was wrapped in a quilt in my family room; but also because they just might have pulled out a victory!
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