Football Fan Failure

I love college football. I really do. I look forward to football season. I love the excitement, the rivalries and the traditions. Even in the years like this one where my team is stinking it up, I love it. With college football comes trash talking, joking and heckling. For me, it's part of the experience. It's definitely more fun when your team is on top, but you can't win them all...or this year for the Longhorns, you can't win many at all. 

There are certain stereotypes that follow every school around. Texas fans are snobs who think they are better than everyone else or hippies who don't bathe and smoke a lot of pot. Aggies are rednecks who are all farmers. TCU folks are all rich frat boys. Baylor students are all the rich frat boys who aren't smart enough to get into TCU and the prude Baptist girls. Blah blah...the list goes on. The fact is that none of these are true but that doesn't stop us from ribbing our friends.  I am all for some good old fashioned heckling (I dish it out and certainly take my fair share) but there is a line where it becomes horrible. Keying a car with your rivals sticker in the window, spitting on someone, screaming and cussing at another person, throwing drinks from moving vehicles, peeing on another persons property...these are all things I have witnessed from college football fans. Enough. It's rude, disgusting, trashy and in many cases illegal. 

I am a big fan of my school and its teams. Everyone should be proud of their school. For all the time, money and energy put into your education you should proudly wear your t-shirt and sing your fight song and cheer!  But come on...golden rule folks. 

Football Class aka Hell Hour for Mom

Hallelujah!  Praise the Lord!  Football is over.  For the last six weeks, twice a week I have schlepped the boys to the gym at the intermediate school for Charlies football class otherwise known as hell hour for mom.

Anyone who has ever met our family knows that Charlie has a few (many) behavioral issues.  He has trouble sitting still, keeping his hands off of other people, using a quiet voice, following directions, controlling his gas etc.  Before I really get started let me say that I realize that I got myself into this.  I am the mom.  I sign up the children for their activities.  I am not sure what I was thinking with this one.  I should have know.  Rowdy child, enclosed space, lots of rules and teenage instructors...not a good combo.  But alas, I signed him up anyway hoping that it might be a good way for him to exert some energy and perhaps for once his giantness would be handy.

Well I was wrong.

While the other 15 boys were standing in line waiting for their turn to throw/kick/run my son was running to the opposite side of the gym yelling "CHARGE" with his shirt pulled up over his head.  He was cornholio.  And I was humiliated.

He blasted into this life four years ago and has pretty much been raising hell ever since so you would think that I would be used to this by now.  But it never gets any easier to sit and watch your child acting out.  It is never an easy decision whether to let him work it out on his own or snatch him and run away from the glares with your head hung low.  I cannot ignore the looks and mutterings from other parents.  There are so many times that I want to stand up and yell to people, Yes, I know he is wild and no I am not just sitting here letting him get away with everything.  I am watching his every move cringing each time he starts rolling across the floor or growls in someones face or takes off his shoe and throws it.  I am ready to pounce if he even comes close to hurting someone else. I am sorry if he is offending you but I cannot physically follow him around and correct his every mistake all day every day.

I love that child and he has so many wonderful, amazing qualities. I want for him to show his kind, gentle, loving self all the time so everyone can see.  I am consantly having to remind myself that he is a young child and that he has an outgoing and spirited personality...determined temperament as his behavioral therapist would say.

Today was the last day of hell hour for mom and I cannot say that I am sad.  After watching his impulsivity on the first day and having another four-year-old boy come up to me and say, "your son is not a nice boy," all I wanted to do was scoop him up, go home and never come back.  Instead we attended every practice and I sat in anxiety through each one.  I figured I could at least teach him commitment if nothing else.  I pray that I can calm down and appreciate the good moments; that I can praise him for the two minutes that he sat in the line instead of criticize him for his mistakes.  And Lord, please give the other parents a little bit of understanding.  Please help them to also see the good in my child instead of commenting to each other, "Geez is anyone going to do anything about that kid."

Ramble over...