Happy times.

Happy times.

The end of an era occurred last night. High school football is over for my son and his parents. Tears were in everyone’s eyes. Guys with their pads, slapping each other on the back or trying to give bear hugs around  chests as wide as a Mack truck, nearly impossible.

 

I saw it last year, when my son was a junior. I was emotional then, watching the toughest, bulkiest guys hug their parents and each other. I thought it was because of a loss that could have easily gone the other way. It wasn’t. The team was losing something bigger, each other. The guys spent almost every weekday of the year together, including and especially the summer.

 

I could never have guessed how much of a hold football would have on my son. When he told me he wanted to play, I was honestly shocked. It was the ONLY sport he ever asked to play. It was the ONLY sport I didn’t want him to play because the risk of injury was so high. I wanted him in some kind of sport, SOMETHING, and if this was the only thing, so be it.

 

I didn’t think it would last. One bad tackle would surely take all the fun out of it and he’d go back to music. For whatever reason, luck was on his side in football and he NEVER had a concussion or super serious injury. He had an ankle tear at the end of the season his senior year and we were crushed. Yes, he was hurt and we were worried, but we couldn’t watch him play any more. Our sentiments regarding football clearly changed.

 

After the last game, watching him with his teammates really drove the meaningful experience home. All of the guys were hugging each other for dear life. Coaches that mentored them for years were hugging the players. My son’s first coach was on the field and I’ve never seen my son so fiercely hug anyone, casting the helmet in his hand to the ground so he could use both arms. No doubt, this guy rooted him into the love of the game with his compassionate coaching and encouragement. My eyes pooled.  Thanks Coach Young.

 

I am grateful we escaped the game without serious injury. I know several players who were not so lucky. I am grateful for the confidence, camaraderie and community that football gave to my son and to us. I met spirited fun moms and families that cared for each player like a second family. Growing up is hard even for grownups.  We are going to miss high school football.

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