Covid Transformed Me into a Football Mom

Date: May 25, 2021

As I watch my son Ben launch himself from the edge of the defense, he charges at the opposing quarterback like a hawk swooping down on its prey. But just as quickly, he’s sent sprawling by a hefty offensive lineman. I sit nervously in the bleachers, my hands gripping the metal rail, as Ben bounces back up and rejoins the formation. I’m still in disbelief over this football version of my son. I had thought my progressive, (dare I say feminist) parenting style and Ben’s disinterest in contact sports would save me from the anxiety that comes with watching kids tackle each other on the football field. But here I was last Friday night, glued to my seat as Ben rushed onto the field for punt coverage.

Over the years, my two teenage boys happily tossed the football in the backyard while I snapped photos of the sunset behind them. On Sundays, they would rise early to watch NFL RedZone as I completed my crossword. Yet, both my husband and I were deeply concerned about certain aspects of the game—the long-term repercussions of concussions and the sometimes brutish behavior of players on and off the field. I thought those worries had registered; neither Ben nor his older brother ever expressed a desire to play.

As Ben’s sophomore year progressed, I was convinced I had dodged a bullet. I wouldn’t have to flinch at the sound of helmets colliding or watch my child limp off the field, dreading an MRI result. Ben, a fast runner, had opted for sports like archery and fencing at the community center. He preferred medieval activities and had no interest in aggression; he wanted to become an ornithologist.

But just days after turning sixteen in February 2021, Ben got his driver’s license and asked if he could join the football team. He promised there would be a spring season, free Covid testing each week, and that players would wear masks when not using mouthguards. It would be safe, he insisted.

The combination of a driver’s license and a request to play football pushed my parenting boundaries. How could I send my beautiful boy into two of the riskiest environments in our rural county—highways and football fields—at the same time? I had already been anxious about Covid, and now I had to grapple with the dangers of potential head injuries?

My husband and I deliberated extensively, but I sensed from the beginning that it would be difficult to decline. We had been strict about video games and limited cell phone use until our boys turned fourteen. However, Covid had shifted the landscape.

As the months of isolation dragged on, I became increasingly worried about Ben, more so than his older brother. The lockdown came right when Ben was starting to feel secure among his peers and was thriving on the track team. In his only track meet of 2020, he excelled in the triple jump and the 400 meters. Then, my phone buzzed with the news that all flights into the US were being halted, followed by school closures. So much for track meets.

Ben adapted well to virtual schooling, but he spent far too much time confined to his room. His mood became increasingly irritable, especially in relation to his older brother, who had the freedom of driving and a more established friend group. Ben wasn’t alone; the CDC reported a 31 percent rise in 12- to 17-year-olds visiting emergency rooms for mental health issues during 2020. I was among the 46% of parents who, in a January 2021 University of Michigan poll, admitted their teenagers’ mental health had deteriorated during the pandemic.

So, when the second year of the pandemic rolled around, I knew it would be tough to deny Ben’s request to play football. Ultimately, we said yes, even though football was the last sport I wanted him to pursue.

I took comfort in the fact that he had never played before; surely he would ride the bench. But by game two, Ben—tall and lanky—was a starting linebacker. Turns out he relishes being the speedy player who rushes the quarterback in pursuit of a sack. “Sack” is now a term we casually toss around at the dinner table, replacing Ben’s former detailed accounts of birds of prey.

Before I knew it, Ben had transformed into a spirited athlete who pumps his fist in celebration, treats his bruises, and stretches his hamstrings. He cheers on his teammates, and I can sense he is finding his voice, even if it’s sometimes muffled by the mouthguard I insisted he have fitted. I’ve come to think of that mouthguard as a protective charm; as long as he wears it, he will be safe.

I’ve joined the ranks of football moms, and my son has become part of a new community. Recently, he and his teammates, along with the opposing team, gathered at In-N-Out Burger to devour burgers and recount the game in the parking lot. Listening to him share the details with us, I couldn’t help but think it felt like a scene from the Happy Days reruns I adored as a latchkey kid in the ’70s.

Ben radiated happiness—thriving in the game, bonding with new friends, and discovering his love for strawberry milkshakes. I’ve invested in a comfortable stadium seat, marveling at my son—once a shy bookworm now turned tribal warrior—celebrating impressive plays with cheers and groans over any interceptions or fumbles.

I had been fully prepared to say no to football for the past eighteen years. Yet when Ben asked, I realized it wasn’t the time for refusal. It was the moment to embrace any opportunity that sparked his interest, allowing him to connect with others and strive for something bigger.

While it’s easy to attribute Ben’s newfound passion for football to the pandemic, I now find myself unexpectedly grateful for Covid nudging him to give it a try. We are all collectively attempting to navigate the aftermath of the pandemic, grappling with shared grief, disruption, and societal challenges.

Is football the answer for Ben? For now, yes. And in the stands, I’ll sit closely beside his dad, six feet apart from the two other guardians allowed for each player, with double masks on and my eyes trained on number 23 as he glides onto the field—doing something his dad and brother never did. He knows his mother worries, yet he owns it with a triumphant fist pump, a confident yes.

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Summary:

This article shares the journey of a mother, Laura, navigating her son Ben’s unexpected interest in football during the Covid pandemic. Initially worried about the dangers of football, she ultimately embraces the opportunity for her son to connect with peers and find joy in the sport. Their experiences reflect the broader challenges faced during the pandemic and the importance of supporting children’s interests for their mental well-being.

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