Playoff time equals family time

Hello Chester. The husband is filling in this week, and well, giving moms and dads a little something to read. That’s right ladies, be sure to hand this to the “most wonderful man in the world” in your life when you are done because I’m talking playoffs this week.

“What’s that? Ah… Playoffs? Don’t talk about… playoffs! You kidding me? Playoffs!” I’m sure everyone who has watched any football in the last 15 years remembers Jim Mora’s incredibly high-pitched response when asked if he thought his Colts team would make it to the playoffs. If not, search it on YouTube, you won’t be disappointed, it’s classic.

That said, this is a big weekend in our house. We are steadfast New York Giants fans and this weekend a classic playoff rivalry is renewed. When we hit the left coast to play the San Francisco 49ers and punch the ticket to another Super Bowl if we win.

Now did I say steadfast Giants fans? Let me revise a little. The little flower and I are steadfast fans. She is ready to watch at the first mention of the game. She has been my little good luck charm and constant cheerleader this year. My darlin’ wife roots for them, and will wear a Giants emblazoned hoodie or t-shirt, but seems to get most excited if we are still playing in January, and then there is the boy. Yes the boy… my buddy, my little man, my clone that will do most everything I do except… watch the game, throw the football in the yard or be any part of the sport. He even recently told me that the reason he doesn’t watch, or play is because he really doesn’t like football. Now before everyone thinks I might be coming down on him let me tell you that is not the case. I have known for quite a while now that he did not enjoy the game of football and I’m fine with it. In time it may change, it may not, doesn’t matter I will love him just the same. You see I was like him in a way. I can recall not really enjoying the game until: 1). Lawrence Taylor was drafted by the G-Men in 1981, and 2). I began to play Pop Warner ball. If he never really enjoys the game or wants to play, I’ll be happy as long as he is. He is super smart and has his own interests (soccer & basketball, and debate team at some point, he has superb arguing skills) and his own mind to make up.  I refuse to be a parent who pushes him, or the little flower, to do anything because it makes me happy. Never do I want to hear “my dad makes me play” or “I only did it for my father”.  I want their activity choices, to be things they enjoy so they can excel in them, and I will be there rooting them on every step of the way. All sports to me should be more about fun, learning teamwork, and sportsmanship than the winning. I want him to come into his own, and really know himself and be confident in his decision-making.

Now an interesting thing did happen last weekend. After the Saints/49er’s game on Saturday, some friends, one’s a Colts fan who just happens to be married to an equally fanatic 49er’s fan, sent me a picture of their little boy, decked out in a throw back Jerry Rice jersey and his 49er’s hat and celebrating his teams victory. I shared the picture with my darlin’ wife. The boy, with his overly curious nature, wanted to see it as well. Once he saw it he had a small twinkle in his eye, as if he wanted me to be able to send a picture of him celebrating to someone. Since then he has asked about the game, and it’s importance to us getting to the Super Bowl, several times, has asked what time it starts and if he can stay up for some of it. He has even made sure his Giants pajamas will be clean for Sunday.

So now here we are, one day away from the game and he seems ready to sit down with some game time munchies, a Giants cup full of age appropriate beverage, wearing his Giants pajamas with his dad to rout for OUR team, and as the ball is kicked off at 6:30 our house will say “Let’s Go Giants!!”


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