As my eldest son entered high school, he expressed an interest in playing football. I had no idea that the moment he first held that football, he would be captivated for life.
Initially, I was completely unprepared for the world of high school football. I imagined he would simply run drills after school and forget about it until the next practice. However, I was gravely mistaken.
Most parents are aware that team sports come with a hefty price tag, but I was shocked by the expenses that came with buying gear. I thought we would only need shoes since the school provided protective equipment—how wrong I was! That first year, we made multiple trips to the sporting goods store, gathering a back plate, socks, ankle braces, a mouthguard, gloves, and something my son referred to as a “girdle.” By the end of July, I learned to stock up on ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese before confronting the daunting expenses of the sporting goods store. The cashier’s chirpy, “Would you like cash back?” became a painfully ironic question.
Beyond the financial burden, there was the sheer commitment of time. At the start of the season, practices stretched from noon until 8 p.m. Imagine preparing enough food for a child who eats every 15 minutes during an 8-hour day of rigorous practice and conditioning. This must have inspired the food truck trend—some exhausted football mom must have decided it was easier to convert her kitchen into a mobile food source. Practices, fundraisers, booster meetings, and the weekly Friday night games turned our lives upside down, transforming our family into a “football family” complete with matching shirts and spirited signs.
As we adapted to this new routine and my credit card recovered, I began to appreciate the experience. Over the three years my son participated in football, I observed the life lessons he was absorbing. Recently, he suffered a spinal injury during a critical game against our school’s main rival—a team we hadn’t defeated in over a decade. During the fourth quarter of the match, he staggered off the field, removed his helmet, and collapsed on the grass. While the trainers tended to him, the game continued, and I noticed a shift in the other players; it became personal for them. They were determined to win the game in his honor.
As the final buzzer sounded, my son lay on a gurney, waiting for the ambulance. All 45 players rushed to his side, kneeling beside him, holding his hand, and proclaiming, “We did it! We won! We finished the game for you!” These strong young men comforted him in his moment of distress. As the ambulance departed, the team led the crowd in chanting his name. I was overwhelmed with emotion.
Later that night, when his coaches came to visit him in the hospital, my son clutched his jersey tightly, telling his coach, “I kept it safe the whole time!” In that moment, I recognized the invaluable lessons he was learning through football: discipline, respect, accountability, and loyalty. These are the heartfelt lessons that often go unmentioned at the initial parent meeting.
Fortunately, his injury was temporary, and he will return to the field this weekend. We will be in the stands, come rain or shine, proudly holding our signs and wearing our matching shirts, but this time, with a renewed appreciation—not just for my son, but for his teammates as well. It’s clear to me that my love for this sport and its community has grown tremendously.
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In summary, the journey of a football mom is filled with unexpected lessons and emotional experiences. While the financial and time commitments can be overwhelming, the growth and camaraderie fostered among players and families are truly rewarding.