Football ... week two.

All I have to say … he’s STILL alive and I stayed in my chair. Alright, Drew successfully made it through day one WITH PADS. We are taking his new football playing in milestones. As in, he GOT THROUGH week 1 conditioning, he is still alive after day one with pads, he still wants to play after day two with pads… at least he doesn’t mind taking Motrin like a “big boy” … and “well, the bruising HAS to go away eventually, right?”. Drew still claims he “loves it”. I am stunned, amazed, and at the same time very happy. It’s good to see my “no contact” little boy suddenly in the throng of crushing helmets and pads and even better watching him get up, dust himself off, and go in for more. The only mistake I have made thus far is the “marble” analogy. I was trying to explain to Drew that tackling (hitting as they call it) was like marbles. If you take a marble and shoot it at a standing marble, the standing marble will shoot across the room. BUT, if both marbles are shooting at each other at the same time, they will either stop one another when they meet, or equally bang off of each other. SO, with this logic, I tried to tell Drew football is the same when he comes off the line. He needs to come off of the line FAST and with the same speed as the other kid so when they hit the other kid doesn’t have more power and can bash Drew. SO, I was thinking I was a GENIUS. Until yesterday … when Drew was participating in “West Points” (the kids bash each other two at a time), I was on the sidelines and watched Drew’s first “hit”. He didn’t seem aggressive enough to me and he sort of got his butt kicked. SO, I hollered, “Drew, lower, lower, wrap his legs!” A few more hits and Drew was doing a little better getting lower, but he still seemed a little less aggressive so I hollered, “Drew, MARBLES, MARBLES!” After practice Drew told me I needed to not yell about marbles anymore because when I did a kid standing by Drew said, “dude, is your mom talking about your balls?” Ugh. So yes, as my friend Amy indicated, Drew will probab;y need a lot of therapy for the “Pee Wee Football and Mom years”. But, for now, we’re both surviving. And yes, I have become the crazy parent that sits in the chair on the sidelines with my drink and hollers at my child telling him to hit harder and lower and cheering him on when he bashes another kid. The transformation process was pretty fast from non sports mom to sports mom the first time I heard the helmets and pads crushing. I think the mommy in me took over as well as a little adrenaline and it’s been all down hill from there. Gooooooooo Drew!