Football You Bet
There are moments in your lifetime that you’ll never forget. I was lucky enough to experience one the other day. My boy made me proud. With a little help from a punter’s picture and repeated attempts of “watching” the game together he finally gave me his approval. He’s a football fan. At least that’s what I’m deducting from recent and past events that took place.
When he was an infant (6 or 7 months old) he cried whenever we changed the channel during a football game… like father, like son. This was the first promising sign.
This season he wasn’t exposed to the game much early on because of outside factors, such as: me working; the Bills sucked; the October Surprise storm; and the Wiggles’ concert. In November the TV was on more because the team played better and he liked hearing his sister say “Go Bills” almost as much as I did.
The final push the boy needed came from the signed picture of Moorman, Brian the Bills’ punter that his Papa (my father-in-law) gave him. The framed picture hanging on his bedroom wall brings out a war cry of “Football” every time he looks at it. I guess it sounds more like footbaw, but that’s close enough. This grunted expression sends chills down my spine. Good chills, that is.
Hopefully this passion for the gridiron sticks so I can live vicariously through him, er, I mean because we’ll bond while watching together. I know that a child should choose his or her own likings, but it doesn’t hurt to steer them in a certain direction to see if it peaks their interests. I mean if the kid becomes a soccer fan instead I won’t love him any less… I think.
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