It’s the day I’ve been waiting for all winter — no, not Groundhog Day — National Signing Day 2011. You know, the day when all the big-time football recruits formally commit to the NCAA institution of their choice?
A few years ago, my wife and I signed a record number of recruits. At least for us, anyway. And although this year’s class is kinda small, in many ways, it will ultimately define our program. Namely because it’s the last one that will ever be recruited.
Well, that’s not completely accurate. See, we didn’t actually recruit this one. He (or she) just kinda announced he was coming without so much as even taking an official visit. But let’s not split hairs. You get the point. It’s our last class ever. Of that we’re certain.
So certain that we’ve already given this player a nickname: Grand Finale.
So certain, that I’ll promise you this: The second Grand Finale sets foot on campus? I’ll be sitting on a bag of frozen peas within 36 hours of that moment. At max.
After all, we’re a bit old to be coaching our existing team. No time to be adding anymore players. Besides, now that we’ll have five, we’re running out of positions for future recruits to play.
Which brings me to a daunting question. What position will this recruit play?
Our four current players are defensive linemen. Or so I assume by how hard they rush my wife (who is obviously our quarterback). Especially the three younger ones. Yet to see them eat, you’d swear they were offensive. Because, well, they’ve got super-gross manners. Which offends me, at least.
Given how hectic our household already is, I’m sure we’ll be going to even extra measures as far as precautions go. After all, we don’t want anything to happen to Grand Finale. Maybe that means our little guy will be a safety. Time will tell, I suppose.
He’ll be on campus this July. And though our game plan will be more complicated than ever, we wouldn’t change a thing. Except maybe to find time to wash our dog. Given everything we’ve got going on, his needs are largely ignored at the current time, so he’s usually pretty dirty. Which has our quarterback calling a trick play.
The flea flicker.
Image: family photo from last summer.