If I think really long and hard about it, I may be able to recollect watching football 30 times over my lifetime. Half of those include going to highschool games where I was more likely to be watching a boy I had a crush on than the actual game. The other half include watching the Super Bowl where I was more likely to be interested in the commercials than the score. I'm not even sure I could name more than six teams and two of them are in the Bay Area.
In other words, I'm not a fan of football.
Go ahead, throw stones. Tell me I'm unAmerican. I fully acknowledge I'm a loser. But I grew up with a band-geek brother. I never tried out for cheerleading. My dad was more inclined to make a mixed tape than watch a game on Sunday. And I didn't grow up in Small Town USA or Texas where I'm pretty sure that football is taught in school next to religion.
So imagine my suprise when Darius told me he wanted to play football. Let's be honest, the kid can barely catch a ball. With two hands. When you lob it to him. How is he ever gonna run and catch the ball? And how do other kids his age do that? I'm not even sure I can do that! Shut up over there, I may be pudgy but I've got most excellent hand-eye coordination.
Neville, the real mother hen of this family, was opposed to him playing football. It's too violent and his precious baby could get hurt. But then we found a flag football league through the YMCA. Darius ditched fall soccer (a sport that he doesn't really seem all that interested in anyways) for football. I've bought a pair of cleats and a half dozen mouth guards.
Honestly though, I seem to be the one with the learning curve. I've read the seven page rule book a dozen times and still feel like I'm reading another language. The ball gets spotted? What's a pitch? Or a Lateral? Spinning is allowed but diving isn't. What's the difference? In-bounds, off-bounds, off-sides, oh-my! A dropped ball and a dribbled snap - same thing or totally different? Don't get me started on the penalties. Godness gracious, how does anyone ever make it to the end zone when practically every little thing gets a 5 or 10 yard penalty.
After getting all worked up about having no frickin clue how the game is played, I realized it is 5 year old football. My only job is to shout "Go Avengers" before every play, clap and shout "Good job Avengers" when the play is over, and make sure that I have his water bottle ready at half time.
I'm totally gonna rock at being a football mom.
