Are You Ready For Some FOOTBALL!!??

It’s sharpened pencils and a newly opened box of crayons. It’s a trip to the orchard for cider and caramel dipped apples. Cool breezes, crispy leaves, zipping up a well worn pair of Levi’s and grabbing a sweatshirt on your way out the door. Autumn: the most wonderful time of the year.
And along with autumn, comes football. A sport that continues to baffle me, as it has since I was a child. You’d think after all the games I’ve attended or watched on television or listened to on the radio, I’d be an expert. Alas, to my husband’s chagrin, I am not. Lord knows he’s tried to teach me. To indoctrinate me in the ways of Ye Great American sport, to no avail. The husband and my first official date, 19 years ago, was to a football game. When the night air turned cool, I snuggled up in his jacket. A cup of hot cocoa warmed my chilly fingers. I’m pretty sure two college teams were throwing a ball back and forth, but I couldn’t swear to it. Pure bliss.
I quickly learned this whole “football” gig was quite a big deal in the WHH’s (World’s Hottest Husband’s) family. This family that would one day become a part of my own. And if football was important to them, then by golly, it was important to me. The first rite of passage involved allegiance to the greatness that is: The Pittsburgh Steelers. (Moment of silence.) Even though we weren’t married at the time, the WHH warned me any mention, verbally or written, of the D_ll_s C_wb_ys in a positive light would be grounds for D-I-V-O-R-C-E. (However, variations on the sentence: “The Pittsburg Steelers slaughtered the Cowboys” proves acceptable.)
This loyalty has been passed down a generation to the Bug and the Pea. The girls think all kids wear Steeler jerseys for professional portrait sessions. They each own Terribly Towels, and have wardrobes dotted with black and yellow apparel. (If I remember correctly, the Bug could spell “Steeler” before she could spell her own name.)
Last year, the kids played flag football on a co-ed Upward Team. I was perpetually amazed at their understanding of the elements of the game, the plays, the positions, the downs, the yardage. It’s still like a foreign language to me, so I stick to cheering. Whether the home team scores or not. The bottom line is, they’re all just kids doing their best. And I applaud their zeal.
This week marks the first Flag Football game of 2010. The Bug is ready to rumble and me? Well, I’m ready to dive head first into autumn. I’ll be the one snuggled up in a sweatshirt on the metal bleachers, hot cocoa in hands. Waving, clapping, and hollering, “Home Run!”