I love football. I love watching the games, I love the sportsmanship, I love cheering for the underdog or my team or against a team. I love that the kids and Daddy love to run outside and play "football". There are no rules really, they just all run around the yard and the football is with them.
I love Bubba. Have I introduced you to Bubba?
This is Bubba- he gets put up before every game and taken down shortly after. It's a bit ceremonial. Hubbie gathers the children and the extension cord. Depending on when the the game is, that determines where in the yard Bubba will be displayed. We looked out to the front yard on day a few weeks ago and a man had pulled over and was snapping a picture of Bubba. - our neighbors probably hate us. There was one night when I had to get Bubba ready because hubbie was going to be late. The children critiqued my Bubba skills.
Recently though, football has become very scary. I don't remember the amount of head injuries or the helmet to helmet hits even 5 years ago. Perhaps, as my hubbie and I were guessing that head injuries weren't as well diagnosed until recent years. It just seems that every week a player (someone's son, brother, cousin, husband, or sniff Daddy) goes down hurt. As I am writing this there is an injured player. I just watched his head collide with another player and you just know, it doesn't look good. He gives a thumbs up when he leaves the field and I am blubbering like a baby.
Big boy has desires to play football, I'm just not certain how the heck I will stomach that! Someday that could my boy playing highschool ball getting creamed and not able to move. No one will be able to stop me from running out onto the field. My work practice and my mommy self will kick in.
I've tried to tell him that golf is a lovely game or perhaps he would like to be a kicker - it hasn't worked. I have 2 years to get him into another sport besides football - he does like basketball, I just need him to LOVE it.
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