When my son Jimmy was six years old, we were coming home one evening and as we stepped up onto the front stoop and I reached to unlock the front door, he looked up at me and said:
“Mom, there are frogs in those bushes.”
“Oh yeah,” I replied. “How do you know?”
“Because I can smell them.”
His little beaming face was so excited; I do believe he really could smell those frogs. That kind of glee, that sheer joy of knowing that something exciting is right around the corner, is how I feel every September at the start of each football season.
I love football. Now, I know that loving something like football seems silly, but I do, I really do love it. I’ve always loved football. When other little girls were swooning over David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman, I was crushing on Bob Griese and Larry Csonka. OK, maybe I also had a little thing for David Cassidy…
At high school football games, as the other girls laughed and socialized in the stands, I was often heard yelling at the refs or trying to shout out plays from the bleachers. Post high school, the Football Gods most definitely knew what they were doing when I ended up attending Florida State University, home of the FSU Seminoles – GO NOLES! Don’t even get me started on the legendary Bobby Bowden; BEST. COACH. EVER.
Most of my gal pals, including my own Mom, do not understand this transformation that I undergo each Fall. I do sometimes find it difficult to explain my all-out obsession with this sport. However, here are a few insights as to why I so look forward each year to that first weekend in September when the season kicks off anew:
Continue reading this post on Kim Dalferes’ blog, The Middle-Aged Cheap Seats
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