It's Not Just a Game

If only Dungee had challenged the call in the first quarter. Or if Manning had called tails. Or if the Chargers' punter wasn't so good.

I woke up with these thoughts swimming in my sadness, and I'm a relatively new fan of the Colts, having just discovered football three years ago. Imagine how Dungee and his team must be second-guessing themselves.

Or maybe they're not. They played with passion and skill against another playoff-achieving team, and could be beat only through chance and overtime. They fought hard throughout the season, stunning us with their athleticism over and over again. Maybe they're not looking back. Maybe they're looking forward to what they can achieve next year.

Perhaps we love football so much because it represents so much more than a game. We can share communally the great emotion of wins and losses. When we see our beloved players training themselves so ruthlessly and achieving great success, we are inspired to pursue excellence ourselves, realizing that hard work pays off. When our team loses a critical game and we plunge into misery, we eventually remember that there is always next year—for the trials in our own lives as well.

Yesterday's match may have been just a game, but football certainly isn't.

People Can Change

It wasn't too long ago that I didn't even know what a first down was; now I'm wrestling my husband for the best seat on the couch whenever I see blue. Larry and I blended our families just before football season last year—and I found myself surrounded by even more football fans.

Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. My boys could hardly believe it when I sat down in the middle of them at the beginning of the first game. “Alright,” I said, “you get one chance to convince me that I should waste my Sunday afternoon staring at the tube.”

It didn’t take long. My hubby wrapped his arm around me and told me the basics. The boys took it from there, informing me of everything about every player except maybe who their third-grade teachers were. They shouted out plays and hugged me every time Manning did something right. Which was often.

Yeah, this was a game I could stand.

I’m into my second season of football, and the biggest fan of us all. My family probably regrets converting me, though, because they know I won't be the one serving snacks on SuperBowl Sunday this year—I'll be the one jumping up to hug everyone when #18 makes that winning touchdown pass we’re all expecting.

Go Colts!