Fall. It is my favorite season.
The cool, crisp air. The apple picking (and subsequent pie). The pumpkin picking. The changing leaves. The fall crafts. Football Sundays (and Mondays, and Thursdays).
What I don’t like about fall: the fact that I become a total football widow.
Full disclosure, my football widowhood has improved since having kids. When my husband and I were first dating we would spend Sundays at his cousin’s house watching every game during every time slot. All. Day. Long. DirecTV NFL ticket anyone?
Not to mention the fantasy football leagues that he plays in for money. A lot of money. Can’t win if you don’t play I guess? (I mean I don’t complain if he wins the season, right?).
I’ve never been a huge football fan. Really, the only thing I truly knew with any confidence was what a touchdown was. But through osmosis, I’ve picked up some football knowledge based on how much Sports Center is on in my home. Particularly starting right before the NFL Draft, and lasting through the Superbowl.
Speaking of the Superbowl, last year was epic in my house; as my husband lives and breathes the Denver Broncos (he was born and raised in Colorado).
So, Sundays now entail all of us putting on our Bronco gear, no, really…if we don’t it’s “bad luck.” My husband trying to pay attention to the stats, the plays, the scores, his fantasy players and how they’re doing…staring at his fantasy app all day on his iPhone.
Sundays for me and the kids consist of halfheartedly cheering when Daddy starts getting excited.
But secretly, I enjoy football Sundays. We get a great reason to all snuggle up on the couch, in front of the fire, with some popcorn or a really good bowl of chili, and spend time together watching “America’s Sport” (a title previously held by baseball).
It’s a great excuse to have friends over. Football Sundays are a great distraction if I want to spend my Sunday scrapbooking, or cooking, or just vegging out on our couch.
My son has recently become increasingly interested in watching football with Daddy, and even mimics his reactions to the game. “Aww man!” “Come on!” “Go, kid, go!” And it really is quite entertaining.
As one of the strongest agents of parent-child bonding, sports can be an incredibly vital component to building a relationship. As sports is something my husband is passionate about, I don’t mind that he passes that on to our son and daughter.
Whether watching, or playing, I believe football, or any sport, instills a healthy love of competition. A pastime that will, likely, never disappear. A sense of belonging. A lesson in how a team works together. How it takes commitment, and sacrifice, and hard work to make it all come together and become sustainable.
Win, lose, or draw, we all need a life lesson in working together, and that while we won’t win at everything, all that matters is how you play “the game.” With integrity, and character, commitment, and having each other’s backs.
Family, football, and fall have become synonymous in my house. And I’m ok with that.
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