Evan’s First Football Game!!!

The sun was easing down to meet the horizon, and there were no clouds to hide the transition of the sky to a beautiful, deep shade of blue.  How nice, God was showing his support for our team by matching the sky to our jerseys.  The boys formed a circle around their coach, and began warming up with a series of toe touches and jumping jacks.  This is when the realization hit me.  My Evan was a football player.  My oldest son was fulfilling the dream I have had for him since his birth.  It was a beautiful moment.  Ten boys, marked with their numbers and names, moving in unison, listening intently to their coach, and preparing for battle.

As all the parents were arranging ourselves on the sideline, an annoying swarm of Ceratopogonidae (no-see-ums) found us.  An entire troop of mothers had assembled, but not one of us packed bug spray.  We laughed at ourselves, as we fanned and realized there was no where to hide from these tiny, biting bugs.  Thankfully, the boys took the field and redirected our attention away from our suffering.  We anxiously sat on the edge of our folding chairs, cameras pointed toward our boys, swatting bugs, and held our collective breath. When the first play started, I wanted to cheer loudly.  I wanted to jump up and down.  Our team completed a 5 yard pass to the flat, and the sweet boy ran his heart out.  I quickly realized that was not acceptable behavior for flag football and calmed myself.

Evan was on the sideline for the first few plays.  He is one of the youngest boys on the team and I was glad he wasn’t thrown to the wolves from the very start.  Then the coach screamed his name.  He was going into the game.  He took his place on the line and the ball was snapped.

Evan. Just. Stood. There.

I was mortified.  The next play started.  He remained still again.  Oh no.  I was starting to get nervous.  I wanted to run out on the field and save him.  I wanted to show him what he was supposed to do.  One of the kind mothers next to me told me not to worry, he would figure it out, and on the next play he did.  He finally realized he was supposed to be doing something and I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.  The game continued on and he ran, laughed, and had fun.

I suppose, my expectations for Evan to be a football savant were a little excessive.  All that matters is that Evan has fun, and that goal was accomplished.  I cannot impose my love for the game on Evan, but I can encourage him to do his best and work with his teammates.  But, my football loving soul does need to do something.  I have to shout to the world that MY EVAN IS A FOOTBALL PLAYER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What do you think?