And we had the privilege of hanging out with our boys’ football coach for the big game. We didn’t have money for jerseys…so we made our own.
As you can see, only ONE of us was smart enough to vote for the Packers. In fact, at the party, there were only 2 packers fan. Me. And Carl.
Go Carl.
There might have been some tension during the game.
Mostly because…the Warren family Football Trophy was on the line.
Guess who won?
See, it’s not just about winning the big game…you have to accumulate the most points throughout the ENTIRE SEASON. And the best stats during the playoffs.
Some people are just really sore losers.
Let this be a lesson to you, Warren Children.
You got your football genes from me.
(And, you’ll never get this trophy…mmmwwwhhhaaaa!)
I think we need to pause here for a moment of silence, of mourning…of WARMTH.
It was getting COLD sitting out there in the stands.
But my boys are worth it.
However, it was with great sadness that I couldn’t attend the final game of the season – the first playoff game. A five hour drive (one way), the game fell on a Tuesday night two days before I left for a big conference. Regardless of how I tried, I couldn’t make it work.
So I sat in my kitchen.
Alone.
Wrapped in a sympathy scarf. (a huge thank you to my pal Darlene Guinn for her compassion in outfitting me with my specialized Football Mom scarf!)
See, we had the storm of the century that night. Driving rain, 50 mph winds, 34 degrees. I shivered just listening to it on the radio. Peter said he couldn’t feel his arms five minutes into the first quarter. The refs had to hold the ball down until the center could take it for the snap. The fact that the Vikings even completed a pass is nothing short of a miracle.
And, speaking of miracles, God showed up.
The team shivered their way through the half-time pep talk, trying to find some warmth from the bus heaters. Peter said he’d never been so cold in his entire life. (And let’s remember, we lived in SIBERIA once upon a time!) As they were exiting the bus for the second half, the heat hadn’t touched their core.
But see, God is on my side. My MOTHER’s side. He might not care about the score, but He cares about my son.
As they stepped onto the field, a nearby transformer exploded from the storm.
The lights on the field blinked out.
The team had to retreat to the bus for another thirty minutes until they found a backup. I think had they continued onto that field, the entire team might have ended up in the ER, suffering from Hypothermia. (And let’s add here, that the coaches were pretty cold too).
However, by the time they took the field again, they could feel their toes, their arms, their fingers. And their spirits.
No, they lost, but the boys played their hearts out. They ended well, albeit cold. I was proud.
I worried/prayed/paced him home, still up when he pulled in at 3am. Then I wrapped him in a blankie and poured hot cocoa down his gullet. Because that’s what we mothers do, donchaknow.
So, the season is over. Basketball is on the horizon. I leave you with this, a glimpse of the fun. (it’s just a sort of flaky home video, but it captures the fun in the stands – as well as my husband’s Vuvuzella! Pay special attention to big #33!)
This has been your Cook County Vikings Football Mom report. Thank you for tuning in. See you next year!
So, after my terrible Football Mom showing a couple weeks ago, I put in the effort to up my game the following week. I was feeling pretty fine with my Vikings Football Jacket, my hat with my son’s number, and my football pin.
No one could call ME a pansy.
And Kathi let me into the Football Mom Club. Finally…I was real.
Little did I know…
See, THIS week was homecoming. And yes, I expected a big play or two. Even brought in a few of my own.
Like these: Football Earrings with MY son’s number!
That’s right. And just to show my extreme football commitment, I did this:
BLUE HAIR! And I brought in fresh blood - a daughter with BLUE HAIR too! And she wore my son’s away game jersey.
All in. That’s me. Playing for the win.
Until…
Kathi and my previous Pea-Green Jacket Pal showed up to the game. Laughing all the way.
DOUBLE TEAMED!!
Not only had Kathi rooted through her 20+ year old high school memorabilia, but she pulled out her CCHS cheerleader POM POMS and her LETTER JACKET! And the little instigator/overachiever pulled her Cuz “Nicie” into the play who not only wore a practice jersey, but did this:
FACEPAINT! On a 40+ year old woman.
I mean really, that’s just over the top. Have some dignity.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I discovered THIS contraband at the game!
Apparently it’s so she can listen to the announcer call the game. Probably just likes hearing her kid’s name over and over and over. “Johnson on the sack.” Whatever.
I don’t need a radio to know how awesome MY son is. (The one who made his own stellar sack. Recovered a fumble. Rushed in last week’s game for 122 yards and two touchdowns. If someone kept track of that kind of thing.)
And then, of course, there’s the entire row of Grandmas. I mean, how many Grandmas does one kid need? And a grandpa too? I’ll bet they aren’t even RELATED to Johnson. (Oh, shoot, I’ll bet they are. Everyone up here is related.)
But, not to fear…I may not have Pom Poms or face paint or even a Football Grandpa, but I still have a few tricks plays up my sleeve.
Writing is the loneliest word…(okay, there was a tune in my head there – sorry!) Seriously though – Writing is just about you, and the screen. And the voices in your head. Too many voices, sometimes. And after you’ve sat on your backside for eight hours, or more, well, sometimes you go looking for inspiration.
Like this.
Or this.
Or even this.
But really, as I sit here, staring at my words, trying not to check my facebook, twitter, email…etc. As I fight to ponder each word’s nuance and milk it for the fullest meaning, my real inspiration for getting this sentence, scene, BOOK finished is…
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