Proud Papa

Ever since Aidan was in my womb and we knew he was a boy, he was a football player to Daddy. I know it's a little cliche, but Daddy loves football. Why? I don't know. He tells me every year some gibberish about how that's what he and his dad did together and that's how they bonded--by yelling at the TV together? I don't pretend to get it, but I've learned to accept it...well, sort of. But that's not the subject of this blog. This is about Aidan. This fall, he chose to play flag football. For the last 3 previous seasons, he played soccer. He's actually pretty good at it. He did play t-ball this last summer. That was fun! We just want to give him choices, expose him to a lot of different things, and let him find his own groove. So back to flag football. We had our first scrimmage last Saturday. Oh my gosh, it was so cute! Amazingly, the boys (kindergarten age, here) really seemed to get it. They've been practicing for a couple weeks now, but just the fundamentals; throwing, catching, pulling flags off...so when they lined them up and had them run the little plays--it was truly amazing! This is where I get to the proud papa. The first play or two went off without a hitch. Then all of a sudden, my son (!!!) got the ball and ran for a touchdown! Of course, 2 sets of grandparents, an auntie, a mommy, and a sissy were all yelling and clapping. Daddy is one of the coaches, so while he was clapping and giving instructions to the other boys on the surface, underneath he was jumping up and down and yelling his head off for his own boy. He was SOOOO proud! It boils down to this: it is a culmination of 6 years of fatherhood, 9 months of pregnancy (praying for a boy), and 30 years of watching football with his own father all rolled into one proud moment when his son made the first touchdown of his football career at his very first football game. I'll admit, too, I was very proud of Aidan--even if it as football.