Unexpected Autumn Bliss ~ Day 16

If you had suggested to me two weeks ago that football would have any place in my little "Autumn Bliss" series, I would have called you crazy. For twenty-some years, I've tried. Oh, how I've tried. I've sat down and attempted to watch the game with my husband. I've brought my good and willing attitude. I've brought food. I tried to understand the plays. The terminology. The all-out hoopla at this time of year. And repeatedly, I gave up. I just didn't get it.

Until...

Last Sunday our family was invited to play a rousing game of family football with some friends. I'll be the first to admit this was not on my list of things I looked forward to doing on a Sunday afternoon. I mean, in theory it sounded fun. The cool, crisp air. The autumn leaves. Football. What's not to like? But as one who's never understood or cared about the game, much less played the game, I was feeling pretty intimidated. However, with the broad ages represented (7 on up to...well, it doesn't really matter now, does it?), I thought maybe...just maybe...I wouldn't look completely ridiculous.

My friend, Jayne, was patient in explaining the plays to me. She told me what to do. And somehow, I understood. Perhaps it was that she put it in girl terminology that seemed to click. Little by little, I understood what we were doing. And oddly enough, I began to enjoy what we were doing. Me. The pink-loving-everything-girly-former-football-hater was now playing and enjoying football. Now granted, I don't believe I actually ever touched the football during that game...but that's besides the point.

On Sunday, it was suggested that we all gather for a re-match. Everything was going well. The sun was shining. The air was the perfect Autumn crisp. And I intimidated my opponenents with the best of 'em. But standing in our team huddle, our friend, Rob, gave out orders. He said, "Nikki, this next one is for you. I want you to stand in the end zone and I'm going to throw the ball to you. It's all yours." While I tried to object and come up with every excuse in the book why that was not a good idea, he insisted this was my moment.

So with great fear and trepidation, I dodged and darted my way down the field, taking my place in the end zone. This, of course, was great strategy, as no one on the opposing team supposed that I was a threat of any kind! As I locked eyes on my teammate, he threw the ball and it came hurtling toward me. I reached out, grasped it, and hugged it tightly. And when I realized I had made the play without dropping the football, I began screaming my lungs out and jumping for joy!

Our team won 4-3. That night at bedtime, our youngest son pointed out that without my heroic play (hah!), the game would have ended in a tie. Feeling pretty full of myself, I repeated his words to our oldest who quickly chastised me with a twinkle in his eye: "There's no "I" in team, Mom."

Football...Autumn Bliss. Who knew?

Photos from our first football game...