Vikings and Panthers and Rams, oh my! Three sons, three different favorite football teams. I am not quite sure how this happened, but I do know that from mid-September through mid-January, if I have a heart attack while doing the laundry, no one will know what has happened. This is not to say that once they find out they won’t be upset, but during football season, I am just a fleeting apparition that serves food, beverages, and cleans their clothes. Unless I am speaking in first downs, field goals, and flags on the play, I am as good as not there.
For those of you who have boys and know nothing about this sport, you are not alone. I have never watched an entire game. This has nothing to do with the fact that on every football Sunday, I have no place to sit in my own home. Every son claims a television to watch his beloved team.
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And they have rituals, the most important one being, “Mom, please don’t talk to me during the game, you will jinx them.” Yes, because I really have that much power. Truth is, I love my boys, but I hate football. Give me a good hockey game and I am totally there, but, for the life of me, I cannot understand what goes on in this game. There are lines on the field, but they are only on television, not actually on the field—I have no idea what you are talking about.
But when you love your kids, you love their teams. You celebrate when they win, and you hide when they lose. Especially in my house, because it is usually my fault if they lose. As I said, I really do have that much power.
Though, an amazing thing happened this season. The Carolina Panthers, the team of choice for son #3, who is also my baby, is going to the SUPERBOWL!!!!! This is exciting for many reasons. As the youngest of three boys, this kid takes the brunt of the abuse. And I say abuse lovingly. I feel really blessed that my three boys, who were born less than four years from oldest to youngest, are really close (for now, who knows what the future holds) and they get along pretty well, when they aren’t trying to wrestle limbs off of each other.
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So when the youngest brother’s team makes it all the way to the Super Bowl, this kid now has the bragging rights. This baby boy (who is almost 6 feet tall) can say to his older brothers, “Ha, who is the best team now?” Of course this doesn’t actually protect him from any further wrestling matches, but it is still nice.
He has been a fan for at least seven years, which is a lot considering he is only 15, and he wears the Panther colors with pride. What is also really nice is that for his bar mitzvah, he received a framed and signed Cam Newton photo. For those of you who know less about football than I do, he is the Panthers quarterback (I cannot explain what that means, but he is really important to the team. I don’t know what a quarterback does. I do know it has nothing to do with quarters and something to do with throwing the ball.) Anyway, this photo has hung in his room and now it might even be worth something! As opposed to the signed Sam Bradford jersey in his brother’s room which can now be used as a dusting cloth. (Again, for those of you who know nothing about football, Sam was an up-and-coming star of the St Louis Rams, who are moving to Los Angeles—long story—and now I am not sure where he is or what he is doing.) See, being a boy mom is very exhausting. But lots of fun.
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So good luck to the Panthers who will be playing the Broncos in Super Bowl 50. I usually only watch the game for the half-time show, but if son #3 lets me, I will be sitting close by with my love and support. Because that is what moms do.