Football Mom Again!

I am an unabashed, unapologetic fan of football.  Especially high school football. 

I played for many years.  My son played and was quite good (if I do say so myself).  Even though his college career was ended with a rather catastrophic injury, I believe he would do it again (without that last injury).

But the game I love is under attack.  Parents are keeping their kids away from the game for fear of the injuries.  It is seen in some quarters as being too violent.

I happen to believe it is the best sport that we have for teaching life lessons. 

Lessons like teamwork and dedication and commitment. Like leadership and work ethic. Things that inarguably benefit our growth and development. 

You may recall an article that I wrote a couple of years ago based on a letter I received from "Football Mom."  

Football Mom had never wanted her boys to play football.  She wanted to shield them from a sport that she had lots of history with but that had lost her love.

This week, I got another letter from Football Mom.  I'm copying it her pretty much verbatim but changing a few things simply to make it generic to the sport rather than to any one school.

So here it is.

Dear Joe:

"I (Football Mom) had lost my way since the last article.  I became frustrated about the lack of 'success' they (my sons) were having on the football field. 

Let me say that the systemic discipline that Coach and his staff impart on 7th and 8th grade young men is something that I can't repay him with bars of gold.  My son has drank the golden kool aid of the cornerstone of football programming.  Discipline on and off the field.   

My son talked to me two nights ago about career paths he was considering including medicine and constitutional law and my rumblings about the requirements with my son replying 'discipline always wins mom.'

Then Thursday night happened.  My oldest son went into the Junior High Game for an extended amount of time. The first play his hands were clenched with nervous anxiousness, his feet moved as tentatively as he cruised taking his first baby  steps. 

I was frustrated,  I had taken him to the Junior High all summer at an insane early hour day after day, done load after load of teenage boy football laundry, drove circles dropping, picking up, repeat.

Then I watched as every play transpired the nervousness that only a mother can spot from the stands dissipated.  

He continued to contribute to his team even making an unassisted fumble recovery. 

So if you think this is where the story would end because of success you and I are both wrong.  As he gets in the car he is overflowing with pride excitement and happiness. 

An analogy that I immediate thought of was a friend years ago took me to see a waterfall and as we approached he made me close my eyes and I laughed and asked him why?  He said I want to see your eyes when you see it for the first time. 

So here I was on a normal nondescript Thursday night looking directly into my sons eyes and seeing the feelings of pure accomplishment and joy that HE felt of being an athlete.   What a gift I was given."

Dear Football Mom:

Nuff said.