Let’s not get confused here. I didn’t take a sudden mid-air hit and change sports. I have football in my bones.
As do my sons.
Works well for me, because they both play football for our local high school team. I lose my mind with joy between the months of August and November. If we go into the playoffs, I’m useless to humanity.
I pretty much go all out as a football mom, too. We live in the northwoods of Minnesota. The closest away game is three hours. Three. Hours. Some of our games are…wait for it…SIX hours one way.
You could say we’re invested.
But, only for football. I’ll be honest here…when the season is over, I’m done. Ready to hand in my pom poms, my stadium seats, my team gear. And, while my sons have in the past played basketball, it was with great joy that they told me this year that they’d be opting out of basketball in favor of bulking up in the weight room over the winter.
I like basketball, I do. In fact, I played basketball. (At five foot three, I wasn’t super, but I did have a nice outside shot). But, well last year the team played roughly 22 games. That’s a lot of bleacher time. So, I’ll admit, I wasn’t unhappy.
Apparently their football coach, now basketball coach had other plans.
Now, here’s a pretty well known Warren fact: My Warren boys are good at tackling, blocking and even pushing people over as they run, but throw them the ball and it’s just as likely to bounce off their helmets. (Hence, why one son is a defensive end, the other a running back. He learned to catch the pitch out this year, which renewed our faith in divine intervention). So, let’s just be honest and say that basketball isn’t a sport they might excel in.
Apparently, the coach didn’t care. He tracked them down and made them a deal. “You don’t have to handle the ball. Just rebound and block. We need you. In fact, show up after you lift weights, and you can just run plays with the team.”
Neato frito. No running lines. No fundamentals. And they get to play football on the basketball court. They signed on the dotted line.
Except, well…now I’m a basketball mom. Living in the bleachers at least twice a week. Hitting the road for away games. (okay, not quite so many as during football season, but…)
I had my grumble on until last Thursday when they emerged for their away game…and I saw this:
That’s right…dress clothes…and ties. Apparently, they have to dress up for away games.
How I love a young man in a tie. Suddenly I see manners and potential and the fruition of all my labor. I see hope that these young men might grow up to become amazing fathers and husbands. Leaders in their world.
Of course, just to remind me that indeed, they haven’t changed that much…
Still. Ties. Yes, I can fall in love with basketball.
You win, Coach.
Susie May in the Bleachers