I'm going to be honest. I never thought I would be a football mom. It's not my THING. Growing up in California where the culture of football season is not so widely broadcasted and without a family member who watched sports, football was not even something that was on my radar. Nevertheless, you cannot escape football in Texas. Football permeates the air in the Fall. It's essence is palpable and even electric. Some might even argue that people live, eat, and breathe football in Texas. I don't think I could dispute that.
Despite personal ignorance of the sport and lack of interest, football just happened to be my son's THING. Out of the array of things he was exposed to and given opportunities to experience, this was what he chose (or did it choose him?). Believe me, it didn't happen without hesitation or even a bit of dissent on my part. However, after many years of flag football, the pads came and tackle football somehow got stuck into my son's heart. What's a mama to do? Well, you show up. At every game-- I show up. I hold my breath when players (on any team) get hurt, and I root for his team. I might even admit that I kinda like it. Maybe after all these years watching my boy play a game he loves and knows so much about, the love of the sport snuck in my heart too. Perhaps it's just love of the boy. Yeah, probably that.
This particular game was their team's second game and Homecoming. The first game of the season was defeating: too many injuries for his teammates and a big loss with no points on the board. It was a hard beginning to recover from. However, this game was different. After playing some arduous quarters with NO injuries on the field--VICTORY! They WON!