I’m already pumped. Bring it on.
Oh my goodness, we were two grandmothers excited over the
first look of our grandsons on the field this season. Football is about to
begin. We arrived to see the scrimmage game between Monte Vista and Pagosa Springs.
I saw my friend at the fence line and said, “I’m so nervous,
I just had to come to see what the team looks like this year.”
My friend tee hee’d and said, “I’m nervous, too.”
We talked to a couple of the fathers at the fence. I said,
“It’s so exciting, isn’t it? What do you think of the team?”
One responded, “We’ll have to wait and see.”
The other father said, “It’s important to these kids. To
some of them, this is their biggest moment to shine. They will hold on to this
experience the rest of their life.”
“I believe that. Their lives might be mundane, but they will
never forget those moments on the field when they were heroes.”
One father said, “My son says he misses everything about the
Pagosa Football team. College is different. It’s not the same.”
“I know,” I said. “Last night at the softball game, I asked
my grandson, Slade, if he was retiring his number 64. He’s grown up on the football
field with that number, and right now he’s wearing the same number on his
softball shirt. He’s off to college. I think it hit him that those days have
passed when I asked him about his number. Slade thought a moment and said, ‘I might
have to come back next year to play softball again.’”
After small talk with a couple of the fathers, my friend and
I made our way to the stands. She was sporting the latest fashion with a zebra
strip umbrella under her arm and a light pink raincoat in case of rain. For me,
I go for comfort with my stadium seat, my stand-by layers and a big coat.
Grant it, it was just a scrimmage, the scoreboard was empty,
lights out, our cameraman was sitting on top of the goalpost taking pictures,
but we were acting like two gitty teenage girls hoping we might get to wear our
grandson’s jerseys during the game.
The boys were not dressed in their uniforms, and they were wearing
practice jerseys with no numbers. My friend said, “I can’t tell who’s who.”
“I know, I can’t either. Where is your grandson?”
“He’s the one with the black thing in front.”
“I laughed. The black thing?”
“Yes, you know that thing he has to wear.”
“What is it called?”
“I don’t know. Is Creede wearing his gold shoes?” She asked.
“I don’t see his pink socks or gold shoes. But he’s got #1
on his back, I can tell who he is, he’s the big guy.”
During this practice game I was looking for the big guy
wearing #1 and she was looking for the player with the little black thing on
his front.
The rain came, my friend opened up her Zebra design
umbrella, everyone else filed out one by one. We cozied up against each other
and watched the scrimmage game until they called it off because of rain.
We sat drenched in the stadium. Wild horses couldn’t drag us
away. I asked, “Where are the fans going? If they leave now, what’s going to
happen when it’s 5 below and they are sitting on metal seats?”
She agreed.
It was just a scrimmage game, but I’ve already put it on
Facebook to all my friends, sent the first pictures of the team and bragged
about our boys. I’m already pumped. Did I see magic on the field? No, but I
couldn’t take my eyes off the biggest guy out there wearing number one, and she
followed the boy with the black thing in front. Two Grandmothers were as happy
as they could be.
Final Brushstroke! What is it about football, grandsons and
living their dream? See you at the games. Football has begun.
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