Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win

Hellloooo Darlings!

In case you haven't noticed...

it's football season...

And this year I am having my first experience as being a "Varsity Mama".

My son has played football since the 4th grade and I thought I had gotten used to this barbaric sport called football but now that he is playing against the big boys I find that I am not ready to be a Varsity mother...he's ready to play Varsity...I'm just not ready to sit in the stands and watch it...

My son has been on the Varsity wrestling team since he was a freshman but at our school there is a BIG difference between Varsity football and all the other sports.

Football is the big time...

The rest.. they are the stepsisters...

This is Texas after all.

My son got to have a sort-of honorary position of being moved up to the Varsity team after his JV season ended last year but he only practiced with them and stood (in his uniform) on the sidelines.  He didn't play one second of Varsity football last year during a game.

And that was just fine and dandy with me!

But he got a taste of what it was like---the team dinners, the special locker room, Chick-fil-A in the locker room after the game...the fun stuff.

I asked him if it bothered him that his wrestling didn't get all the attention and food and parties and stuff that football got.

My son, ever the practical one said:

"Mom, it's wrestling.  We aren't supposed to eat anything"

(lest that comment worries you I can assure you 100% that my son is NOT allowed to cut weight in crazy ways or wear plastic clothing to sweat in or do any of the crazy stuff some wrestlers do.  His coach only allows a very small weight drop at a time and they weigh and watch them constantly.  I manage his weight during the season by cutting out "bad" carbs and salt).

He loves both sports equally and so it really doesn't bother him that wrestling doesn't get the attention...or the cheerleader buddy gifts and Chick-fil-A.

I am learning a lot about being a Varsity Mom...and I am sorta failing miserably at it.

Things like:

1) The team dad sent out an email at the start of the season reminding us to get hotel rooms for the out of town game and something about shirts.  I THOUGHT I had forwarded that email to my ex-husband and although I wasn't sassy I was a bit to the point and said something about "this is football and it's on you"...

Turns out instead of hitting the "forward" button I hit "respond".  Poor team dad got it.  He sent me back an email suggesting maybe my response was not meant for him.

I.was.mortified.

He (team dad) thought it was hilarious.

I sent back and email informing him that he would not need to play referee and that all the fighting would be down on the field.  When I finally met him face-to-face he said he had been dying to meet the woman who literally made him crack up (there was more to the emails but I won't bore you).

So basically I have screwed up looking cool in front of the Team Dad and Team Mom...

2) NO ONE told me I had to look like and dress like a supermodel for these games.

You should see these women...they are all gorgeous and they all look amazing.

And where the hell they have room in their closets for all the fantastic adorable purple clothes they wear  so chicly I have not one clue...but damn...

So here's me at the first game: long black skirt and purple t-shirt...I had to teach that day.

Here's them: white skinny jeans with chic chiffon purple flow-y top and cute wedge heels...or darling romper in gold and cute cowboy boots (Team mom...she's too cute for words and looks like a teenager)...or precious dress and fun shoes...or cute little shorts and fun little top all in purple and gold...

Oh...and they all have great hair and cute haircuts and hair-do's.

I sport a ponytail...although one time I curled my hair and they only knew who I was because I was wearing my son's jersey.

me: fail
Them: supermodels

I have tried to find adorable purple outfits to fit my oompah loompah shape but I have had little to no luck.

It is my mission this next year to stockpile chic and perfect football mom clothes for next year so I can be dazzling too...

but all I really want to wear is yoga pants and a t shirt.

3) I don't know how to behave in the stands...

I sorta have to tell myself my butt is glued to my seat when my son goes down.

During the first game he rolled his ankle and was slow to get up.  The second game he pulled his achilles.

I had to tell myself : "You are a varsity mom.  Varsity moms sit here cool as a cucumber while their son is rolling on the ground hurt.  You do not move.  You sit stoically.  You remain calm and composed.  You do not go running down the stands and out onto the field to check on your baby.  You are as cool as a north wind."

All the while the rest of me is screaming:

"My baby is hurt and he needs his mama!!!!!"

I learned this from watching the other moms.

I wonder if they are having the same conversation in their heads and also want to run down and hold their baby boys.

I also have once or twice stood up and yelled:

"That's MY boy!!!!" once or twice when he has sacked the quarterback and saved us from doom.

The dads just stare at me...

I don't care...

That was MY boy that just brought down another human...and I totally think he deserves a trophy every time he does it.

I cheer just as hard for my friends son's too.  When my friend PrettyPhyllis's son made an interception last game and the crowd was chanting his name I got teary-eyed.  And when my friend DarlingDebbie's son made a touchdown (he is on defense so that's a big deal) I yelled like he was my own kid...

So yeah...I'm THAT mom in the stands...the LOUD one...the OBNOXIOUS one...

Luckily I have another friend DivineDawn who is as loud or louder than me and next year when her son is on Varsity I will sit with her and we can make enough noise for the whole crowd.

(Except I won't look as fabulous as her because she is just one of those women that even yoga pants and a t-shirt look like couture on because she is so damn fabulous and divine...and she has the cool hair twists that this white girl is jealous of...I named her well...divine...)

OMG and when I watch the cheerleaders I cringe and cover my eyes...they are incredible with their tosses and tumbling and throwing each other about.  So I sit in the stands and sit on my hands so I don't wring them when I watch the girls doing their routines and cheers.  I actually think it might be harder to be a cheer mom than a football mom---at least my boy is wearing padding!

When I was a cheerleader all I had to do was jump and hold up TeenyTinyTerry...and she was teeny tiny...

So I am the mom in the stands who has that worried and concerned look on her face when she watches the cheerleaders...

Someone please tell me how to look gorgeous and chic and wear a mask on my face so I don't look "skeerd" (scared) all the time...

4) I don't know how to do all the socializing that goes along with this team.

I turn right back into the intimidated middle school girl at the team parties...

The seniors moms have been doing this for a while and they all know each other...I cling to my friends who I have known for years.

You would think as loud as I can be I wouldn't get shy but at these parties I feel that way.

Part of it is that I may just be the only single mom on the team...so I fell sorta out of place.  Lucky for me PrettyPhyllis often comes as my date because her husband is handling their other sons.

And the parties...wow...

Those people can party.

They really are a fun group of people... a lot of fun...and they throw great parties.

It is my goal next week to branch out and try and meet a few more of the parents...if I can find an adorable purple outfit to wear...

This whole experience has given me a chance to learn some things from my son...

He goes into each and every game ready to play his heart out.

He is a little hard on himself (I see him do great and he feels like he just did ok) but he also knows that he is good enough at his job of linebacker to hold his own.

He won't play college ball but that is fine and dandy with me.  He's too small and I don't think my heart could handle it.

Last week he had to go up against an offensive line that was basically made of trees, not boys...

They.were.huge.

They totally outplayed us and sadly our offense was not having a great day so the kept losing the ball and my son was having to run back onto the field almost as soon as he got off the field.  By the end of the last quarter of the game the defense was so worn out they looked dazed.

When my son got home he was tired, hungry beyond belief, beat up and discouraged.

But after getting a good shower, a Whataburger patty melt in him, and a few minutes to rest he was less discouraged and ready to move on to next week's game.

He recovers quickly...at least his spirit does...his body has taken a few more days than usual to get over that game.

We are lucky that he attends a school with an excellent set of trainers that do an amazing job of helping the boys recover after games with icing and treatments.  My son has had electrical stimulation treatments so many times the trainer now has him help him set the other boys up when we have had a hard game and a lot of the boys need post-game treatments.

That helps him...

but there is nothing that really helps a mama recover...

ah but then again their is...

wine

and

vodka

(but not at the same time)

My son goes out there and commits 100% of himself 100% of the time.

He hits and hits and hits boys.

He takes them down and he gets taken down.

It's the same with wrestling.

And when I look at him...tired, sweaty, bruised, scratched and sometimes bloodied after a game...and he smiles as me and tells me he is tired but I can see that he had fun...

well...

that is one game worth winning...

because love of the game is what it is all about...not the scoreboard

(ok yes it is about the scoreboard but you know what I mean...)

I let him play because he loves it.

He gets up and goes to school most mornings at 6:30 to lift weights and then carries one of the toughest academic loads on the team (2 AP classes, 2 Honors classes and the hardest English teacher) and then goes to practice for 2 hours.

He rarely complains.

He doesn't get a lot of glory or his name in the paper.

But he plays the game because he loves it.

And he wrestles because it is the one thing that is all on him and it's just him and the other boy and he loves it.

And so, I will find cute purple clothing, glue my butt to the stadium seat when he is hurt...

but I will still yell out

"That's MY boy" when he takes the opposing QB down...

because that's how this Varsity mama rolls...

you can dress me up but you can't make me behave...

and thank god for the recover potion known as "wine" or the "Varisty Mom painkiller" known as vodka...

With a few prayers, a little luck, a tiny (ok a lot) of wine, and good friends I can play this game too...and win...

Inspiration Song: "Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win" by the Beastie Boys...because it doesn't matter what the scoreboard says, as long as you play with your heart you will always win...

Bye Darlings: Go out there and cheer for the ones you love for whatever they love doing...Friday Night Lights is not only football...it's about love of the game...ANY game...and as long as the game is played safely and fairly and your child or friend is having fun...that is a game worth winning...