A Momma's Confessions About Football

Did you hear a big ol' cheer? It was me.
Our football season is officially over.
(I am in no way referring to the sad Alabama/LSU game. We are still proud and loyal fans, and there was no cheering going on.)
I am talking about the boy's season of tackle football.

This year, he played on a team on the base. We made a 1 hour drive 3 times a week. Sometimes 4. Practice was 2 and a half hours each time. When they started in August, it was 102 degrees. At last weekend's games, it was 35 degrees.
Our days consisted of rushing home, slamming a snack, cramming in the homework, and then zooming to practice. Then it was rush home, cram in some dinner (or spend more money eating out), and then fall into bed. Usually late.
I am glad to see it end.

This was also a "trial season" for our athlete.
You see, the boy has always been a soccer player. He loves it, he says it's his favorite, and he's really good at it. But...
He always talks about playing football. ALWAYS.
He played one season of flag football, and he played once on a traveling team where we were all miserable. So he kept talking and talking and talking about playing again; he just never wanted to follow through with all that talk. This year, he finally decided to give it one more try. One more try to see if it was truly a sport he wanted to play.
He had a blast.
He loved it.
His momma, however, did not love it as much as he did.

(This is the part of this post where I vent my frustrations.)
I would rather watch football than watch my son play football.
It stresses me out.
Y'all have heard my theory on the need for all that padding and protection. I have 4 friends with kids playing football this year... All 4 of them were sidelined with injuries. One ended up in the hospital. As in... surgeries.

I do not enjoy watching ginormous kids tossing my son around.
He was the 3rd skinniest person on his team. He's not built like a football player at all.
But, he loved it.
I will never tell him what he can or cannot choose to play. I will always support him and take him to practice and cheer the loudest on any sideline.
But...
This is what happens to skinny soccer players when they get tackled on a football field.



That's the boy's hip 7 days after the hit and after the swelling finally went down.
He may be able to look me in the eye with his 100+ pound self, but he is still my little boy.
My little boy who never looked like that after a soccer game.

But he loved it.
Have I mentioned how much he loves it?
(He also loved the week his coaches made him sit out of tackling drills because of his injury. There's hope.)

So I will wait for another year to roll around to see if he's going to play again.
It is, after all, his decision.

His newest plan is to play soccer in the Spring and football in the Fall.

I may have to be checked out of the nut house to go watch his games.