Been playin the foozball

For those that do not know, I have a son. He is 5-years-old. He is playing peewee football. I did not push for him to play. I am not really sure I want him to play football.

I started playing football when I was 8-years-old. I have about a decade of football playing under my belt. I probably played my final football game this past January when the Central Ohio Lions won the AA Semi-Pro Football National Championship in Miami Florida. My body simply cannot take the abuse. Between football and wrestling, I wake up every morning with pain.

I do not want my son to get hurt. I do not want him to endure the numerous knee surgeries I did. I underwent two knee surgeries while still in my teens. I do not want to see him to be hobbling around like an old man the way I do.

My son plays against 5, 6, and 7-year-olds. In general, a 7-year-old is faster, smarter, and more coordinated than a 5-year-old is. A 7-year-old understands the game a much better than a 5-year-old. That is just reality.

Anyway...

In last week's game, my son was playing middle linebacker on defense. The offense ran a sweep. The center blocked my son. The boy was 7-years-old. He was flat out bigger than my son was. The center did his job. He kept my son away from the ball carrier.

My son, the mini-omega, reached his boiling point. He grabbed this kid by the facemask and threw him to the ground. Mini-omega then climbed on top of his fallen opponent and proceeded to deliver a series of body blows. The coaches quickly pulled mini-omega off of the 7-year-old.

In a different game, mini-omega was playing wide receiver on offense. The team ran a sweep behind him. Mini-omega's job was to block the cornerback. Mini-omega used solid technique and blocked the kid... and continued to block the kid... and continued to block the kid.

His entire team was 40-yards down field celebrating the touchdown. The entire opposing team was downfield. The referees were downfield. Mini-omega was STILL blocking the cornerback. He was totally oblivious.

My son is not a superstar. He might never become a superstar. I don't care. Win, lose, or draw I have no intention of missing him develop.