Fox got drafted today.
From his father's reaction, you'd think it was into the NFL, not the WFFL 15 and under league. Apparently he made it on the "best" team with the "greatest" coaches. The whole concept of a draft for 9/10 year olds is confusing to me. How do they know discover the future Chad OchoCinco or Peyton Manning after watching 70 boys run in circles, most of them unable to move under the weight of their helmet?
Fox has never eaten as much or relished dinner more than he has the last 3 days. He is a never ending pit of hunger. At dinner tonight, after shoveling in 2 chicken quesadillas in record speed, he still looked over at my plate with greedy eyes and asked "are you eating that?" Being the kind, generous to a fault mom that I am I offered my dinner, but his dad decided to distract him from foraging by discussing the "motivation" Fox could use to be very aggressive on the field. (Warning- Dr. Phil or any other tv psychology whores would not approve of the following philosophy). According to dad, the greatest part of football is that you can take all of the anger and built up hostility you've held in for 9 months of the year- such as every time you've wanted to pile drive your sister for being bossy or punch a bully in the nose at school- and channel it into pushing the crap out of and totally dominating your opponent on the field.
I sat pretty quietly during this conversation listing to the angel/devil conflict going on in my head (no I'm not crazy- going inside my head and blocking out the rest of the world is my happy place). The devil voice agreed with The King. Fox is very easy going but he allows all his negative energy to build up and build up until he explodes. He rarely gets mad but when he does, holy crap watch out. Three months of hurt feelings, broken promises and little annoyances will come out. Football will be a great way for him to channel all that energy. My father, who played for the University of Utah in the late 60's (did you know the Utes are in the Pac10 now? Oh you did? No, BYU wasn't invited. Sorry- but not really) always said that the freedom to go on the field and just push someone around at will is the best feeling in the world. And even though he was a pad wearing hulk/machine of destruction for many years, he's been a totally productive member of society as long as I've know him. Well, there was that one time when he stopped at a red light and almost grabbed the man who had just cut us off out his driver's side window. But just as his eyes were turning green and his shirt started to tear around his biceps, he settled down and returned to our car and 4 bewildered and semi-terrified faces. Oh, I bet he never wanted me to share that. Whoops.
On the other hand, my angel voice was screaming "no, this is your sweet, sensitive little boy. The kid that tells his overwhelming sister daily that she is his best friend. He is like the Pied Piper to all children under 5; they flock to him as if he were Santa. He gives the greatest hugs in the world". I love him just the way he is; I don't want him to change into a fighting machine. But to be successful I know he has to aggressive and dominate, not be dominated.
I think it's best that I take the back seat on this one and let his dad be the driver. It's so cool watching them "talk shop" and work on drills (except when they take place in my living room and involve pushing couches around on my carpet). I'll stay away from the practices- I'd be too tempted to chew out the coach for making him do push-ups for taking off his helmet, and just cheer my heart out for him at the games. I can be a good football mom. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.......
Fox just asked why you have to use your brain in football. Don't you just get mad and hit people?
I think he's going to do well in this sport.
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