My Football Career 🏈

Yesterday’s weather brought back a crazy sense of deja vu.

Heavy clouds, crisp, cool air and the threat of rain. A bit of drizzle and the idea that snow is not too far off.

On my 58th birthday, it made me think of two things:

1). My Mom

2). My 10th birthday.

My 10th birthday started with wild excitement as Mom gifted me what I really, really, really wanted:

Wilt Chamberlain’s autobiography.

It was a massive book that told the story of my favorite player’s life and as a huge reader (even at that age), it was all I wanted.

48 years later, I could conjure up the image of Mom handing me that gift to unwrap. 

I gave her a huge hug and started reading it at breakfast. A big bowl of Corn Pops.

“What does ‘screw’ mean?” I asked Mom as Wilt wrote about a conquest after a game.

“Skip that part,” Mom said.

(I distinctly recall that conversation and I moved on! It was a book written for Wilt’s adult fans).

“You have football tonight,” Mom said.

I was long done with football! I was a backup player and I hated everything about being on the team (except for the orange slices at halftime).

“I don’t want to go.”

Mom wasn’t messing around. I was going. We didn’t quit what we committed to. A valuable lesson for the next 48 years.

So, I was on a bus, in full uniform, for a long trip to a Godforsaken town to watch my friends likely lose as I sat on a hard, cold bench.

I recall looking out the window on that cold, grey day, feeling like I might cry. I just wanted my cake and to read my book. 

Strange thing happened.

“Fuzzy!” Coach Weiser called out.

He had to call my name twice because I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to talk to me in the middle of the game.

“Happy Birthday, you’re in,” Coach said.

And it was just one play!

The quarterback dropped back to pass. I was in there to defend the pass. 

I saw the ball in the air and I ran to it.

Miraculously I grabbed it right in front of the wide receiver.and I started running towards the end zone.

I never saw the kid who hit me.

Just felt the blast. 💥 

And when I hit the ground, I had one thought:

“What happened to the ball?”

I heard a loud cheer go up and I turned in the mud, and saw the touchdown.

The guy who’d hit me had picked up the ball and raced in for the touchdown.

I headed back towards our bench.

Coach patted me on the back.

That night, we had a large chocolate cake. It was in the shape of a football.

Cut to 48 years later, my cell phone rang in the middle of the day.

“Mom”

“Hey, Happy Birthday!” Mom said.

I pictured her through the eyes of that ten-year-old boy.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said.

Then I told her the story of my 10th birthday…

…and it made her laugh.

Time man.

It truly does feel like a blink of an eye.

(I never again entered a football game, and I announced my retirement at the tender age of 11. No one attended the retirement ceremony).