Grid Iron Moms

Another year of football has started....  I was reading other blogs this week and thinking how I used to be so good and post several times a week....pretty close to a daily post.  Then it kind of got busy and my computer is moody and it just didn't seem like I had enough time for one...but I'll try to do better.  Some of that comes from wondering if anyone really reads this or am I just writing it for myself and if I am, then that;s OK, if that's what I want to do.
So here we are today...Dan's Last first home game of the season.  There's a certain excitement on the morning of a home game.  There is a group of moms that get together and make breakfast for any of the players that want to show up.  We try not to load them up too much, just start them off right.
 Our school is small.  Our team is small.  Our parents and fans support our teams and our school.  We have often travelled quite a distance for an away game, only to have more fans than the home team.  We cheer them when they win, and we cheer them when they lose...today we really want to cheer them when they win!!.  We need one of those. 
So at breakfast time, I offered a photo op for any moms who wanted a mother/ son picture.  I got some this time, some promises for next time and some who will meet me after the game and have one.  I guess that will be a little like a trash the wedding dress picture.  Sweaty, stinky, muddy boys.  They should be muddy.  It was raining when I got up, and it has been off and on since then.  We are a little more than an hour to game time and we need the rain.  No thunder and lightning, so we should be good.
 I love high school sports.  They have a passion that can't be matched by athletes who are paid to play.  They know they only have so many games to prove themselves.  This is not all they do.  They go to school, hold down part time jobs, fit in practices and games around family and friends.  But when the coin is tossed, there are lots of folks on the sidelines.  Even a wet day like this.  Their parents and brothers and sisters will be there.  The grandparents will go early to get a seat on the limited bleacher area.  Some will bring chairs, but a lot will walk up and down following the plays closer and closer to the end zone.  Neighbors, friends, many men who have worn Maroon and Gold on that same field.  Girls and moms and grandmas who jumped, shouted and shook their pompoms to root on their favorite team in days gone by, will return with the memories that time cannot erase....and perhaps grow just a little fonder as the leaves rustle, turn color, and fall from the trees.  Counting down to the kickoff......