This is a MUCH different experience than being in the stands rooting for my favorite NFL team (see my earlier post about crazy Seahawks fans) and even different from the high school games I attended as a teen.
No, this game featured MY BABY BOY, though well padded , facing potential tackles from the other team. The other team, in this case, is from across the island and full of Irish-American kids. GIANT Irish-American kids. I swear we were playing the Notre Dame farm team. Our team was notably smaller. The “center” might have been four-foot-nine. If he put “lifts” in his football cleats. “He’s little but tough,” my son insisted, “like a rabid Chihuahua.” Fitting, since he appeared to be no taller than the opposing teams’ shins. Continue reading