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Touchdown!

Mikey has been playing indoor flag football through a local recreation program for the past several weeks, and for the past several weeks I’ve been watching him chew on the ends of the flags.

The ones that are reused by countless other kids who use the gym day in and day out, season after season, year after year. I can only hope they were purchased new after the pandemic so possibly they only have four years’ worth of germs on them.

Finally, after watching him thoroughly suck the germs clean off them one day, I told him that if he continued to do so he simply couldn’t play anymore – that we just didn’t want the whole family to have diarrhea for a month.

The threat seemed to work, or maybe he just tired of chewing on the flags, but either way, he stopped.

And then he scored his first touchdown and it was the cutest friggin’ thing ever!

When the season started he was definitely afraid of the ball, and my poor husband was hard on himself for apparently not “raising him right.” As soon as a play started, I would watch him run around and chase after the kid he was covering, even jumping for blocks. But as soon as the ball actually got near him, he would back off.

Since his age group was 6- and 7-year-olds, many of whom had never played football before, oftentimes the coach would step in to quarterback for a bit, to better facilitate the game. Otherwise it was just a series of incomplete passes and the game would take all day. But even when the coach tossed Mikey a nice, easy pass, I could tell he just shied away from it.

He did the same when it came to tackling. Mikey is fast. Very fast. We would watch him speed off toward the opposing team member who had the ball, but then freeze. It was like he was afraid to pull the flags off the other kid.

As the weeks went by he got into it a bit more. One time he actually caught the ball, and while I thought he just stood there like a deer in the headlights, my husband said he “turned up,” whatever that means.

But then, last week, the big moment happened … All of a sudden I saw Mikey with the ball. He juked one way, and then the other, and then he froze. I stood in the stands and yelled “Mikey, run! Run run run run …”

And that little bugger zipped across the gym with opponents throwing themselves at his feet, trying to get his flags, as Mikey dodged this way and that, leaving a pile of kids in his wake.

OK, maybe it wasn’t THAT dramatic, but through my mom glasses it was totally movie worthy.

And then he slammed against the mat on the wall and a whistle blew and there was that second where you wait to make sure he did, in fact, get the touchdown; that a flag wasn’t pulled when I didn’t see it, or whatever the heck else occurs when I think someone got a touchdown but they actually didn’t.

But he totally got the TD!

I jumped up on the stands and other parents cheered, and when Mikey looked up at me I gave him the thumbs up. He just dipped his head like he was embarrassed, but I could see the huge smile and rosy cheeks as teammates patted him on the back, before he ran off to get back into position.

And then it seemed as though, once he had that one successful play, he had the confidence to really jump in. He was more aggressive at trying to “tackle” his opponents, and more eager to get his hands on the ball.

Now, I never truly understood sports culture. I played volleyball in high school and I enjoyed being on a team, traveling on the bus for away games and seeing the crowds that came out for home games. But I still didn’t have that overwhelming competitiveness to win or disappointment of defeat.

So sometimes when I see and hear other parents losing their minds on the sidelines at these young kids’ rec games, I just can’t understand it. My husband tells me that’s just it – I don’t get it. But I gotta tell you, the rush of nerves, excitement, and whatever else I was feeling at watching Mikey get into the game was really something.

Unfortunately, while my husband was able to make almost every other game of the season, he happened to miss this one. I could hear the disappointment in his voice when we called him while he was on his way home from work to tell him Mikey got a touchdown.

“Oh, man! Did the quarterback pass it to you, or was it an interception? Or did someone fumble the ball and you scooped it up?”

Mikey looked at me and it was quiet in the car as we communicated through Bluetooth. “Uh … yes?” I answered, looking at Mikey who nodded back at me.

Here’s the other thing: I didn’t exactly see the entire play because one of the other moms was talking to me and I was distracted until my eyes caught Mikey with the ball, so I have no idea how it got into his possession – and I’m not sure he does, either.

But I won’t be making that mistake again. However, I’ll have to wait until next year because Mikey’s team was eliminated from the playoffs.

And now I know why my Bills Mafia friends and family are glued to the TV during games – because they don’t want to miss a thing.

Holly Crocco is editor of the Putnam County Times/Press and mother of a 6-year-old. She can be reached at editorial@putnampresstimes.com.

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