My son hates football.
It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, and really it isn’t, except I LOVE football. I love all sports. I run a sports blog. My happy place is sitting in a sunny stadium for 60,000 other people yelling my head off. I have seven fantasy football teams. I own eight football jerseys, a hockey sweater and two basketball jerseys. I took my twins to Raymond James stadium for the 2005 NFL draft. I drove five hours in crappy weather on New Years Day to watch the Caps play hockey outside. I have been known to schedule the Monday after the Super Bowl as a vacation day. I am emotionally invested in Teddy Roosevelt winning the President’s Race during the fourth inning of every Washington Nationals’ home game.
I wasn’t kidding. I am super into sports.
The boy – not so much. He thinks football is stupid. He thinks baseball games are too loud and boring. He likes hockey games if he gets to sit in a suite and eat popcorn the entire time, but he won’t watch it on TV. I’m not even sure basketball is on his radar unless it is tournament time I won’t let him watch Pokemon while March Madness is on.
So I was floored when he asked me if he could play fantasy football.
“Yes!” I yelled probably a bit too loudly. Then I ran to the computer and created a league that he could play in. Then I invited some of my friend’s kids to play. Then I explained to him that even if Ray Rice was his first draft pick it didn’t mean that he would get Ray Rice, that it depended on the draft.
Ray Rice was a good call though. Maybe he wasn’t just obsessing about soft pretzels the last time I took him to a Raven’s game. He didn’t really care about any other football players and I briefly considered tweaking the league so he could draft first, but no matter how much I love my son, that isn’t how I roll.
Plus, I had a team in this league and I wanted Ray Rice too. Who wouldn’t? Ray Rice is awesome.
When the NFL season actually started he was excited to watch football on television.I was excited that he was excited. We were all excited. He probably lasted two quarters of the first game but that was a huge step in the right direction. I will take what I can get.
It was a fun and games until our teams went head-to-head.
He destroyed me. His team outscored mine by 40 points. It wasn’t even close. He kept running up to my husband yelling “I AM CRUSHING MOM!”
To be honest, I was glad he won. I want him to be able to enjoy this. He doesn’t have to like football or basketball or hockey or baseball, but I like it that this give us a common ground. It is hard to keep up with the worlds of Skylanders and Bakugan and Pokemon and whatever will be next. I don’t expect him to care to keep up with the day to day drama of the NFL any more than he expects me to know all of the evolutions of Charmander, but as he gets older and has more of his own life it gets harder to be able to find things that we both enjoy that involve eating or me buying him things at GameStop.
It is just nice to have something fun in common.
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