It's Saturday night. I'm watching a little football with my other half. A Notre Dame commercial for head injury research aired during halftime, and it's got me thinking about The Sheriff. Chatting with some friends last week, we shook our heads about middle schoolers breaking bones and high schoolers becoming paralyzed while playing this gridiron game. So.Very.Scary
I love football. Jacob loves football. W loves running around with footballs and jumping on pillows and as of late, handing the ball back and forth when we say, "Down....Set.....Hut!"
It's part of our culture down south. It's in our South LA blood. And now in TX, it's in every breath we take!
I can't imagine the pride in my heart watching W throw a game-winning TD pass or maybe a game-sealing Pick 6. Heck, kiddo can be the holder for all that matters.
But my momma's heart carries so much fear about this game, its intensity, its momentum, its power. When viewed through a mother's eyes, it's seems like a dangerous battlefield, one I don't want my little one near.
It's his life. But that little life is my responsibility.
We aren't signing him up for pee wee ball any time soon. I'm obviously quite ahead of myself. In my future, I see myself looking for balance. We can't keep our children in a box. Although, if they'd stay there sometimes, maybe... I kid.
If he shows any interest, I will be his biggest cheerleader. (Until that one terrible day when a cuter one steals his heart away from his Momma! Let's not go there just yet. )
Maybe we'll play flag football for a while before contact. We will surely be certain he's learning the proper techniques. (That's why I keep Cowboy around. At least one of us will know what's going on!) We'll make sure he doesn't grow crazy long locks a la Clay Matthews, Brooks Reed, Troy Polamalu that could get in the way and cause injury. Not even kidding there. His curls might be working for him right now as a toddler, but as a grown man? I'm thinking not so much.
There are so many positive aspects to the game that I would love for W to experience, but it will be our job to keep him as safe as possible.
It's just a scary place out there. Too much is out of our control. It freaks me out, but I know that if I hand it over (whatever it may be) to God, He will fight the fight for us. And He's got to be a football fan on some level right?