Playing Football

Last weekend, Calfgrit10 was sick and Calfgrit6 wanted someone to play with. The little one and I started out with a little soccer in the back yard and then in our driveway. We usually play soccer in our cul de sac, but there were some other kids, (and a dad), already playing American football there.

While we kicked his soccer ball around our yard, I kept trying to get him to lets go play football with the other kids. The football kids ranged in age from 7 years old to early teens, plus the dad, so little Calfgrit6 felt a little intimidated. But I eventually enticed him to lets join the game.

Calfgrit6 took my hand and we walked out into the cul de sac between plays and asked if we could join. “Sure,” the dad said, “you’ll give us enough players to have a good game.” Turns out they weren’t actually playing a game before we went up, they were just throwing the ball around.

So everyone decided for us two dads to be the team captains, and we’d choose the teams. I started the draft picks by taking Calfgrit6. The other dad chose his son, (a 7 year old). I then started choosing the other kids going from youngest to oldest, and the other dad followed by also choosing the youngest before picking the teenagers.

Once we had teams, I asked about the game play rules: boundaries, goals, etc. When I asked, “We tagging with one hand or two hands,” I got the answer, “Only on the fourth down.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. The two oldest boys on my team looked at me, then at each other, as if they were surprised by the question. I clarified, “I know what ‘fourth down’ means, but . . .” and the game started.

Our side started on defense, and I had to very quickly explain to Calfgrit6 how to play the game. He’s never even seen a football game on TV. (We’re not much of a sports family.) I assigned him to guard a 7 year old, and I had to cover one of the teenagers while the other dad threw as quarterback.

Between downs I explained more rules and actions to Calfgrit6, but during plays I was too busy to really see what he was doing. When it was our turn on offense, I could watch him a little more since I was letting one of the teenagers quarterback.

Unfortunately, the kid who wanted to quarterback most was more interested in throwing a touchdown pass than throwing to little kids, so Calfgrit6 and the other little guy on our team, (9 years old), pretty much got no tries with the ball. So eventually I took over QB duty.

I wanted to throw a few passes to the little boys, but they didn’t understand how to make themselves open and ready. They ran around to get away from the opponents covering them, but they wouldn’t look back at the quarterback. Every once in a while, a little guy would get clear and look at me, and I’d start the throw to them, but then they’d immediately change direction and take their eyes away from me. The ball would go to an empty spot in the road and bounce away.

It took a few downs to get the youngest kids to get their eyes on me and pay attention, but they eventually got an understanding. When I let one of the other teenagers QB for a while, he actually tried throwing a few times to the little guys, (though they rarely caught the throw). I was very happy with that kid. Good character.

After a couple hours, the sun started going down and it was coming on dinner time for most of us, so we eventually broke up the game. Calfgrit6 had had fun, I had had fun, and it was a great bit of exercise for both of us.

A few days later, I was having to work late at the office, and while on the phone with Cowgrit, she mentioned that Calfgrit6 was out in the cul de sac playing football again with the neighbors.

I paused a moment and frowned. That actually saddened me. My little boy was out playing his second game of neighborhood football without me. I wanted to run home immediately and get out there with him.

But I was also proud of him. He went from me having to talk him into it, and having to hold his hand to walk out to the game, to going out there on his own and joining in without his daddy. When I got home, we talked about it. He said he had fun, but he wanted me out there with him. It made my heart warm.

Bullgrit