I remember a member of the military telling me that when they went to basic training, their drill instructor gave them a speech. The speech began, "Today is the first day you wear the uniform. Just as there is a first day, you wear the uniform, there will be a last day..."
That really puts into perspective that something that is seemingly mundane will, eventually, be a large part of your life. It may be only a temporary chapter, but it will be a significant one. It will be a season that will come and go. Because of that, a servicemember should always strive to make their time in uniform a truly remarkable time.
This is my son's first year in a football uniform.
Baseball, as I have often said, is the most beautiful sport. It is elegant and graceful. It is explosive in exictement and operatic in tempo. It is the sport of poets and writers for a reason. It is said that you can't play baseball through clenched teeth. It is a game played with artistry and finesse. It is not played with anger.
Football, however, is a sport played on emotion. It's a much more perfect foil to the soul of a person.
Logan just started playing actual football (prior to this, he played flag.) He wears a real helmet and real gear. He hits and gets hit. He understands a new, informal set of rules like, "you should never play if you are injured, but you will almost always play hurt."
Football asks a lot of a person. Especially when those people are ten years old.
You can already tell a lot about the kids on the team. Some of my favorite players on the team are the tackles. Tackles are big, strong, usually heavy kids who are powerful and hard to move around. In most sports, these kids are at a disadvantage. They aren't fleet of feet. The muscles that give them the power to fend off a defensive lineman almost certainly guarantee that they won't ever hit a curveball.
That's one of the beauties of football, though. You can have a wide variety of types of body and still play. Basketball? Basically, it favors one type of body, that just comes in slightly different sizes and quicknesses. Baseball? You could take the better half of Logan's travel team and each kid wouldn't look all that different than the next. They all have basically the same traits: good eyes, quick hands, fast feet. Some are better than others, but they are all pretty much capable of doing the same things.
Football, though? A wide range of body types can play the sport. These tackles love the game. They're really good at it and they finally have a game where they can compete and win. We are also blessed with a couple of tackles who it is easy to see will grow up to be remarkable young men.
Another player on the team has been Logan's lifelong friend. He isn't the biggest or fastest, but he's fearless and will lower his shoulders and take on anybody. He's the team's "Rudy", playing with all the heart he can muster.
A couple of other kids on the team are troubled souls. It is amazing to me that the discipline of being on this team is changing them in profound ways.
One of them gets into a good bit of trouble at school. He was a bit unmanageable during the first few weeks of practice, but when he realized what was going on, he started to behave. I've been trying to find a starting position for him for the past couple of weeks, now. This might be the week he gets it.
Another has problems that run pretty deep. Probably some considerable learning problems and a pretty obvious case of ADHD. At first, I was convinced that it was ridiculous that we had to deal with him. We're not special ed teachers. We're volunteer coaches.
If he was going to stay on the team, though, he was going to have to do the same things everybody else on the team did. He was going to meet the same standard. I have ridden this kid pretty hard. I've made him run laps when he misbehaved. I've told him that whining and complaining have no place here.
At one practice, between plays, he'd jokingly half-tackle me. I'd tell him to knock it off. I'd ask him, "hey, is that smart?" when he'd wrap his arms around me when I wasn't looking.
One of the other kids asked, "Is he your son?"
No, why do you think he's my son? "Because he's always hugging you."
I wondered if that was what he was doing. Today for team pictures, he immediately tried to change seats once I sat down and said, "I'm gonna sit by Coach Strebler."
Why in the world would this kid ever feel any affection towards me? I'm fair, but I've certainly been hard, and he's gotten more than his fair share of attention, usually not positive. However, I'm also quick to compliment a kid when they do something right. I'll point out when they're showing improvement.
I also don't ever yell at kids. I may tell them to run laps. I may tell them to get up. I don't raise my voice at them except to praise them during a game.
Who knows what the rest of this kid's life is like. He seems to be angry and doesn't interact well with other kids. I suspect that a lot of the communication he gets isn't very positive.
I'm still undecided as to whether having this kid on the team is good for the team at all. His behavioral problems are so profound that he takes one entire coach away from the team at every practice. However, the difference in him? It's stark. He is benefitting from this experience.
It's amazing how much genuine affection I feel for everybody on the team. It's also amazing to me how quickly this whole thing is happening.
They will have 1 more year of youth football in pads, then 2 years of middle school. Then, Freshman Football in High School.
Just as there is a first season of football, there will be a last season of football. Just as my son will put his uniforms away, so will I also put away the era of my life when my son was a football player.
Because I know this, I cherish every moment of every game. Every minute of every practice. When I see the pageantry and spectacle of the high school football games, I get a little bit emotional. That will be him, soon. Then, just as quickly as his time in uniform came, it will go, and another generation will step up for their days under the Friday night lights.
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