Before...
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After...
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"The real glory is being knocked to your knees and then coming back. That’s real glory."
Vince Lombardi
Vince Lombardi
Showing posts with label football. Show all posts
Showing posts with label football. Show all posts
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Every year except...
It is at this time of year that I am usually longing for the start of football season. Really. Really. Longing. What's not to love about that special time of year when the shadows grow a little longer, the air a little crisper, the sky a little bluer and the sound of ESPN's GameDay broadcast playing on every television in the house. Sometimes we turn the tvs down so that we can play our "Pride of West Virginia" Marching Band CD at full blast.
Football is a BIG DEAL at The Wright Place. Every year.
Every year including the year that Molly was born on the Thursday before the Saturday that marked the season's start. (The doctor performing the C-section was actually talking football with the nurses in the operating room. I felt right at home.) We watched football in my hospital room that Saturday.
I simply can't wait for football season to start. Except for maybe this year.
This year is different. This year my son joins the ranks of tackle football players everywhere. It is for this reason alone that my eagerness for football season to begin is less than fervent. The games take place on Saturdays for the next 2 months and though I can't wait to see him playing, I can wait to see him on the bottom of a pile or on the receiving end of a "slobber-knocker". I'd rather watch someone else's boy on a football field on tv. In fact, I place quite a lot of import on someone else's boys showing up to entertain me every Saturday on the ole' gridiron while I eat my nachos in front of the tv. I have no lack of confidence in the ability of someone else's boys to take the physical challenges associated with my favorite sport.
This season it's to be my boy out there on the field and I'm reluctant. This is my first season as the mother of a tacklee, the mother of the kid at the bottom of the pile, the mother who knows that some of her boy's dreams are on the line this first season. I really would have preferred this particular football season to have arrived much more slowly. It didn't and it's here and we've been trying to get ready for it.
My Man has been overseeing Cole's pre-conditioning workouts of push-ups, pull-ups, running sprints, running longer distances, sit-ups and other sweat-inducing exercises. Cole's sisters have been roughing him up on the sly because they have been getting away with it. They've been getting away with it because when he complains about their harsh treatment of him, I give him a level look and say, "If you can't handle what your little sisters dish out, how are you going to survive on the football field?" Poor guy.
"Voluntary Conditioning" has begun for the boys on Cole's team. He had "conditioning" last night. You may have heard the angels singing last night and didn't know why. It was because helmets were distributed to each player. Real helmets. Helmets with "twenty pads in them, Mom!" (What kind of sport requires 20 pads securing one's skull and its contents???) I was out until after Cole was in bed on helmet distribution night so this morning, first thing, Cole introduced me to his helmet and gave me a tour. I know about the face mask of the helmet and about the face masks of most of the other player's helmets, I know that the chin strap gives my boy some difficulty, and I know that that helmet made his week.
How do I know?
After breakfast, I asked Cole to unload the dishwasher. I entered the kitchen a few minutes later to check on his progress and ...
Football is a BIG DEAL at The Wright Place. Every year.
Every year including the year that Molly was born on the Thursday before the Saturday that marked the season's start. (The doctor performing the C-section was actually talking football with the nurses in the operating room. I felt right at home.) We watched football in my hospital room that Saturday.
I simply can't wait for football season to start. Except for maybe this year.
This year is different. This year my son joins the ranks of tackle football players everywhere. It is for this reason alone that my eagerness for football season to begin is less than fervent. The games take place on Saturdays for the next 2 months and though I can't wait to see him playing, I can wait to see him on the bottom of a pile or on the receiving end of a "slobber-knocker". I'd rather watch someone else's boy on a football field on tv. In fact, I place quite a lot of import on someone else's boys showing up to entertain me every Saturday on the ole' gridiron while I eat my nachos in front of the tv. I have no lack of confidence in the ability of someone else's boys to take the physical challenges associated with my favorite sport.
This season it's to be my boy out there on the field and I'm reluctant. This is my first season as the mother of a tacklee, the mother of the kid at the bottom of the pile, the mother who knows that some of her boy's dreams are on the line this first season. I really would have preferred this particular football season to have arrived much more slowly. It didn't and it's here and we've been trying to get ready for it.
My Man has been overseeing Cole's pre-conditioning workouts of push-ups, pull-ups, running sprints, running longer distances, sit-ups and other sweat-inducing exercises. Cole's sisters have been roughing him up on the sly because they have been getting away with it. They've been getting away with it because when he complains about their harsh treatment of him, I give him a level look and say, "If you can't handle what your little sisters dish out, how are you going to survive on the football field?" Poor guy.
"Voluntary Conditioning" has begun for the boys on Cole's team. He had "conditioning" last night. You may have heard the angels singing last night and didn't know why. It was because helmets were distributed to each player. Real helmets. Helmets with "twenty pads in them, Mom!" (What kind of sport requires 20 pads securing one's skull and its contents???) I was out until after Cole was in bed on helmet distribution night so this morning, first thing, Cole introduced me to his helmet and gave me a tour. I know about the face mask of the helmet and about the face masks of most of the other player's helmets, I know that the chin strap gives my boy some difficulty, and I know that that helmet made his week.
How do I know?
After breakfast, I asked Cole to unload the dishwasher. I entered the kitchen a few minutes later to check on his progress and ...
...I'm wondering what will happen when they hand out the shoulder pads??
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Ladies, Linemen and Laundry
Another weekend has past. It whizzed by before I had even settled into it. Friday night I spent with friends not accomplishing much that could be measured, but much that was deeply felt. We gathered, each with our own pet projects to entertain our hands while our conversations entertained our spirits. We parted company late in the evening most of us only to meet again less than 10 hours later when our sons met on the football field.
It was my favorite flag football game by far which is saying something considering kickoff time was set for 8:00 am. Many of the boys on the opposing team were sons of my friends and friends of my son. Standing together cheering for them all was so much better than divided into groups hollarin' for some arbitrary color to prevail.
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My Mom left her cozy bed, two hours drive from here, in the 5 am hour to be on time for kick off and stayed for most of the day doing laundry and playing board games with the kids thus snagging the highly coveted Grandma of the Year award.
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Its a very good thing I have cute kids, otherwise I'd never be able to get anyone to come help me wade through the Lake O'Laundry! I keep promising myself I'll stay caught up after each use of the EMCDML signal (that's Emergency Mom Come Do My Laundry signal). It never works though, remember last time? In fact, to be quite honest, two days have passed and I'm a smidge behind once more. That's OK though, I would hate for Mom to be bored next time she drives two hours to visit!
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It was my favorite flag football game by far which is saying something considering kickoff time was set for 8:00 am. Many of the boys on the opposing team were sons of my friends and friends of my son. Standing together cheering for them all was so much better than divided into groups hollarin' for some arbitrary color to prevail.
My Mom left her cozy bed, two hours drive from here, in the 5 am hour to be on time for kick off and stayed for most of the day doing laundry and playing board games with the kids thus snagging the highly coveted Grandma of the Year award.
Its a very good thing I have cute kids, otherwise I'd never be able to get anyone to come help me wade through the Lake O'Laundry! I keep promising myself I'll stay caught up after each use of the EMCDML signal (that's Emergency Mom Come Do My Laundry signal). It never works though, remember last time? In fact, to be quite honest, two days have passed and I'm a smidge behind once more. That's OK though, I would hate for Mom to be bored next time she drives two hours to visit!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Here's What You Get. . .
Here's what you get when you ask for help wrapping yummy Pumpkin Muffins (with cream cheese filling) for the freezer during the Big Game.
Surely he needed to stay "suited up" in case they needed him. (As it happend, they did!.)
Surely he needed to stay "suited up" in case they needed him. (As it happend, they did!.)
Monday, September 21, 2009
A Football Family
Football season, oh what bliss. The college bands, the fight songs, the nutso fans with no shirts, the crisp fall air outside, the chili scented air inside, team emblazoned sweatshirts (preferably the old soft kind that threaten a hole or two near the elbows), and Game Day on ESPN.
Our ideal Saturdays are full of rightly matched college teams, nachos and cheese dip, pop to drink, and soup to heat and reheat. This Saturday was such a day.
As I opened my eyes and stumbled out of bed, I passed my boy, dressed in his football jersey, ball cap and matching shorts. He'd been awake for sometime, gathering info for all the games that were to come. Ready to share with me all the news that was fit to report regarding our favorite past time. Not, however, before coffee!
Cole was brimming with details to relate over breakfast. We talked about our favorite college quarterback, Tim Tebow and the big game he had ahead today. We discussed our Mountaineers and hoped for the best. Who's team was on "upset alert" and who was playing Notre Dame were also hot topics.
I grew up watching and learning about football with my Dad. I liked keeping him company as he watched the games in a house full of women (our dog was even female).
Turns out, this knowledge would serve me well through out my life. When I met My Man we spent a lot of time watching football games and discussing them. Now that my son is attaining football fanatic status, I'm still able to "talk a good game" -after coffee, never before. I've been occasionally overheard saying, "Not every boy's mom would know that," after making a commentator-worthy observation of a particular play or player.
When we shared the news of another sister "on the way" before Molly's birth, our guy was especially bummed because he was certain there was a brother on back order for him somewhere in the universe. A brother with whom he could enjoy the pleasures of this sport he'd grown to love. It was simply not to be.
Every year Cole and his dad try their best to get Meg interested in the game. She's always a good enough sport to dress the part.
But she tends to loose interest after that...
And Kate?
She's the one in the pink!
So, having lost two potential fans to "Spa Saturday", Cole decided to go with the next obvious candidate...
It was all going sooooo well, girl or not.
Our ideal Saturdays are full of rightly matched college teams, nachos and cheese dip, pop to drink, and soup to heat and reheat. This Saturday was such a day.
As I opened my eyes and stumbled out of bed, I passed my boy, dressed in his football jersey, ball cap and matching shorts. He'd been awake for sometime, gathering info for all the games that were to come. Ready to share with me all the news that was fit to report regarding our favorite past time. Not, however, before coffee!
Cole was brimming with details to relate over breakfast. We talked about our favorite college quarterback, Tim Tebow and the big game he had ahead today. We discussed our Mountaineers and hoped for the best. Who's team was on "upset alert" and who was playing Notre Dame were also hot topics.
I grew up watching and learning about football with my Dad. I liked keeping him company as he watched the games in a house full of women (our dog was even female).
Turns out, this knowledge would serve me well through out my life. When I met My Man we spent a lot of time watching football games and discussing them. Now that my son is attaining football fanatic status, I'm still able to "talk a good game" -after coffee, never before. I've been occasionally overheard saying, "Not every boy's mom would know that," after making a commentator-worthy observation of a particular play or player.
When we shared the news of another sister "on the way" before Molly's birth, our guy was especially bummed because he was certain there was a brother on back order for him somewhere in the universe. A brother with whom he could enjoy the pleasures of this sport he'd grown to love. It was simply not to be.
Every year Cole and his dad try their best to get Meg interested in the game. She's always a good enough sport to dress the part.
But she tends to loose interest after that...
And Kate?
She's the one in the pink!
There will be no getting that gal into a boxy fittin' jersey!
Not even on Football Day of all days.
Did someone say foot?
They could've at least used team colors.
So, having lost two potential fans to "Spa Saturday", Cole decided to go with the next obvious candidate...
He began instruction with the simple skills...
The Hand Off
Receiving a Hand Off
Moving on to more difficult skills. . .
Snapping the Ball...Hike!
It was all going sooooo well, girl or not.
A football buddy for Cole, at long last!
Until. . .
she discovered what was going on in the bathroom.
Maybe next Saturday?
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