My youngest played his first high school(freshman) football game last night. I enjoy the complete range of emotions evoked when watching him play. Pride takes the lead. I am proud of his hard work, willingness to expose himself physically and being made co-captain while playing both center and defensive end. Seeing him in position and tackling the running back single handedly on the corner was thrilling for this dad. It was sad that as a team they were soundly thrashed by the opponent 53-0. One of his teammates ran into him in the 3rd quarter and I could see that he was hurting with his left arm hanging by his side, but he didn't think to come out until his coaches called him over before the next play. The protective parent wants to run down and comfort him but coaches and trainer were very attentive and the fearful, tense dad waited until the end of the game. He walked toward me after the game and the coaches post-game talk and it broke my heart to see him fighting back tears. He stated, " I'm going to have the trainer look at it, I heard it pop". I think not only the pain but the thought of missing football was overwhelming for him at that point.
By the time he came home with his brother an hour later he had a big bag of ice taped to his shoulder and had a look of satisfied accomplishment on his face, followed by a whoop of joy when his mom brought home his favorite sub.
I do like my buddies suggestion for his new nickname, "Bloodbath".
By the time he came home with his brother an hour later he had a big bag of ice taped to his shoulder and had a look of satisfied accomplishment on his face, followed by a whoop of joy when his mom brought home his favorite sub.
I do like my buddies suggestion for his new nickname, "Bloodbath".
