A Football Poem for Mom's/Dad's

[UpNorth]

So I normally stay quiet on here and just like reading the topics. Being from Ohio I do not have much insight on the programs down there only when I come down to visit. But I came across this poem and thought that every parent should read this and remember how fast these times go by. This poem is especially fitting for those senior parents out there with the season winding down. I have modified it to include the dads as this was a football mom poem but I know us dads out there still feel the same way. So enjoy feel free to share it with others.......

 

Dear FOOTBALL MOM/DAD,

 

You dreaded this year’s arrival, but it has come just the same. A year full of promise, but so many “last times.”

 

Over the years you have helped with countless team meals, washed mounds of sweaty uniforms, chauffeured to more early morning practices then you care to remember.

 

You have been top-of-the-world elated when your son has had a good night and endured his deathlike silences when he hasn’t. It is amazing how the family mood bobs with the rhythm of each game.

 

You have laughed, cried, screamed, sulked, pouted, sweat, pulled your hair, bit your nails, bit your tongue, paced, worried, shoved, frowned, and smiled all very gracefully and within a two hour span.

 

Such is the life of a football mom/dad.

 

You may not be in on the big play, but you feel the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat right along with your son. You keep your composure when some fan behind you wants your son’s head while the opponent on the field is mashing it into the grass. “Get off him, that's my baby” you’d like to shout!

 

You breath football at this time of year, especially this time of year when your heart whispers “just a little longer” as the season slides by. You plead and bargain, knowing full well that some other mother/father on the opponent's team is making her/his own deal with the Almighty, But you do it anyway, because you no more want it to end than your son does. You do not want to see the desperation in his eyes and the pain on his face as he struggles to put away childhood dreams. You are helpless in the stands, with no way to make it better.

 

Is it worth it?

YOU BET IT IS!

 

Every lost game sock, busy Friday night. Every recovering Saturday, every aspirin, every ruined hair do, hot bath, goose bumps, and every obnoxious fan and sports writer you’ve had to tolerate is worth it. The fun isn’t measured by how many times your son gets into the newspaper, the game, or what he does when he gets there.

 

 

The fun- what makes those trips to the ER for the pigskin stitches all worthwhile, is watching a game, What a sport experience can do to convert your little boy into a young man. Watching him tackle the world and you have a front row seat.

 

You still see that rambunctious 5 yr old playing football in the yard. You bite your lip and hold back the tears because though you are fiercely proud of the young man he has become, you miss the boy. In fact you mourn for all the little boys. You have watched them grow up together, plot and scheme together, win and lose together. They have raided your kitchen, camped out in your basement, stole your heart. They are blessed with something they will never have again. They know it and you know it.

 

So you pray that wonder will last another game, and then another, because as long as it does, you hang on to a piece of your boy for a bit longer. Watching him walk off that field one last time will be no less painful then giving birth to him all those years ago.

 

We will miss this group of young men.

We will miss watching them run on to the field like soldiers going to battle, the hi-fives after a great play, the chest slams after a great tackle, the celebrations over a big win and the sober faces after a disappointing loss. We will missing watching the boys we love, play the game they love .Football.

 

Anonymous

[FootballDad]

So I normally stay quiet on here and just like reading the topics. Being from Ohio I do not have much insight on the programs down there only when I come down to visit. But I came across this poem and thought that every parent should read this and remember how fast these times go by. This poem is especially fitting for those senior parents out there with the season winding down. I have modified it to include the dads as this was a football mom poem but I know us dads out there still feel the same way. So enjoy feel free to share it with others.......

 

Dear FOOTBALL MOM/DAD,

 

You dreaded this year’s arrival, but it has come just the same. A year full of promise, but so many “last times.”

 

Over the years you have helped with countless team meals, washed mounds of sweaty uniforms, chauffeured to more early morning practices then you care to remember.

 

You have been top-of-the-world elated when your son has had a good night and endured his deathlike silences when he hasn’t. It is amazing how the family mood bobs with the rhythm of each game.

 

You have laughed, cried, screamed, sulked, pouted, sweat, pulled your hair, bit your nails, bit your tongue, paced, worried, shoved, frowned, and smiled all very gracefully and within a two hour span.

 

Such is the life of a football mom/dad.

 

You may not be in on the big play, but you feel the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat right along with your son. You keep your composure when some fan behind you wants your son’s head while the opponent on the field is mashing it into the grass. “Get off him, that's my baby” you’d like to shout!

 

You breath football at this time of year, especially this time of year when your heart whispers “just a little longer” as the season slides by. You plead and bargain, knowing full well that some other mother/father on the opponent's team is making her/his own deal with the Almighty, But you do it anyway, because you no more want it to end than your son does. You do not want to see the desperation in his eyes and the pain on his face as he struggles to put away childhood dreams. You are helpless in the stands, with no way to make it better.

 

Is it worth it?

YOU BET IT IS!

 

Every lost game sock, busy Friday night. Every recovering Saturday, every aspirin, every ruined hair do, hot bath, goose bumps, and every obnoxious fan and sports writer you’ve had to tolerate is worth it. The fun isn’t measured by how many times your son gets into the newspaper, the game, or what he does when he gets there.

 

 

The fun- what makes those trips to the ER for the pigskin stitches all worthwhile, is watching a game, What a sport experience can do to convert your little boy into a young man. Watching him tackle the world and you have a front row seat.

 

You still see that rambunctious 5 yr old playing football in the yard. You bite your lip and hold back the tears because though you are fiercely proud of the young man he has become, you miss the boy. In fact you mourn for all the little boys. You have watched them grow up together, plot and scheme together, win and lose together. They have raided your kitchen, camped out in your basement, stole your heart. They are blessed with something they will never have again. They know it and you know it.

 

So you pray that wonder will last another game, and then another, because as long as it does, you hang on to a piece of your boy for a bit longer. Watching him walk off that field one last time will be no less painful then giving birth to him all those years ago.

 

We will miss this group of young men.

We will miss watching them run on to the field like soldiers going to battle, the hi-fives after a great play, the chest slams after a great tackle, the celebrations over a big win and the sober faces after a disappointing loss. We will missing watching the boys we love, play the game they love .Football.

 

Anonymous

 

Thanks UpNorth for passing this along. Glad I read it alone in privacy. I'm going to pass it along.

[MikeWinchell]

Thanks UpNorth for passing this along. Glad I read it alone in privacy. I'm going to pass it along.

My thoughts exactly! It brought tears to my eyes.

[dlhs3551]

Thanks for sharing this. Truly, there is nothing quite like the shared memories of high school football.

[pfhstigerfan4life]

Thanks for this poem--while two more seasons away, I dread the "final snap of the ball."

[wvchargers]

Such a touching poem. I will miss watching my son play football!!

[DmacDaddy]

ow. thats close to all our hearts.our son has played since he was five.kinda (?) signed him up two years he didn't (kinda) want to.watched the heartbreak of losing a little league championship by a two point conversion,8-6 score.watched the high of winning it his first year on the junior little league team.so many memories.now going for the first ten and 0 year in polk county.thx upnorth. and

[Polk04]

That hits in the right spot. I'm not a mom or dad but i'm a older brother of a player on the polk county team and have watched him since he was 5 years old. And we are very close and i'm close tyo alot of his team mates. i've seen these boys play and do battle so many time and never want it to end. but it has to one day and i'm dreading it with a passion but they all hold a special spot in my heart and that poem was great thanks upnorth. Go Wildcats

[bearsmom]

I have been through the "last game" once and have one more to go.

 

Thank you for helping me remember.

[Govolsknox]

Believe it or not, the "last game" even extends to others (like cheerleaders) because it's not just about the game, it's about them growing up and knowing even though things may still be great, they will never be the same.