Before my grandson, Andrew, started playing football, I knew nothing about football. I knew the ball was not shaped like a basketball, that was it. The first game I watched, my nephew had to tell me what was happening.
Andrew began as a third grader and now in fifth is still playing.
Saturday we played another school that had three times the team members we did. I watched, scared, of course. I did not want Andrew to be on the bottom of one of those dogpiles! I almost cried when another player jammed a finger or laid on the ground a few seconds after a tackle! This was rough on a grandmother.
Andrew made a long run for a touch down. At first I was waiting for him to go down, then I was on my feet, then I saw him kick in the speed, then cross the line with no injuries. My fears left me! Andrew was good! The crowd was on its feet cheering my 12-year-old grandson!
The fear did not come back. I was beginning to know the game after personal commentary by my nephew. Andrew runs again with the ball and has four guys trying to stop him. Two were hanging on as he ran. He finally went down but I was still happy and unafraid. With four people on him, he had made a tremendous gain for his team.
I am not sure what position he played, many I think because he had to play the whole game. Coach took care of them and kept them full of Gatoraid and confidence. Andrew made tackles too. Nothing like hearing the announcer say "Another sack by Andrew Williams, Number 39!"
We lost the game but not our confidence. I lost my fear! I still only know the shape of the ball but I am learning.
