Football, football, football.

That truly has been our life since the season started in August. Three nights week and weekend games. I've watched these boys run and run. Then run some more. I've listened to the coach yell mercilessly at these boys and I've listened to his words of encouragement. I have seen tears. I've heard praise. I've watched these boys (little boys) turn into football players. They can hit and take a hit. They know endless plays. They are in shape. They have learned respect and how to play as a team.


Even with all their hard work and dedication, they have not won one single game. There are wonderful lessons to learn from losing ... true personality builders ... to never give up, be gracious, learn from the mistakes and move on.

And this team, no matter what the score board says, play with all their hearts til the very end.

But as a mom , its heartbreaking to watch week after week.

I do love watching through. And cheering ....

My son loves the challenge. He loves the thrill. And he can take a hit alright. There have been plenty of hits where I think "Oh man, he's hurt." I cringe. But he jumps up and runs back to the huddle, ready to do it again. He comes home with plenty of bumps and bruises.
I am so proud of him.

(he's #84)