Even Hall of Famers Make Mistakes…

Last night, the Hidden Valley Titans took to the fields donned in their blue and gold uniforms for the first time this season.  They also stepped on to the field that they had never played on before… the high school field.  (Which is really at the middle school… but we’re a little backwards around these parts.)

Among those was number 68, Matthew Jacobson who is a guard. (Please don’t ask me what that means.   I probably know more about soccer than football, which really isn’t saying a whole lot.)

Their names aren’t on the backs of their jerseys yet, so it made it a little more difficult to find him but when he took the field, I couldn’t have been more proud.

I snapped a few pictures too of him at the game, because what kind of mother would I be, if I didn’t?

I even made it easier for you to find him, because I’m nice like that… and because I don’t think any of you should have to go through the trouble… i mean, he’s not your kid, is he?

And I don’t want you to think that he’s the small, skinny white kid on the field, because he’s not.  THAT kid can move.  Matthew just guards people… which is probably why he’s called a guard, ya think?

Brilliant, I tell ya.

I have to tell you, the one thing I don’t like about the big field is that I can’t get up close and personal with my camera, although those aren’t so bad.

So there’s my guard.  My man.  My child who broke a helmet in practice this week while it was on his head.

To quote Fussy “that’s hardcore, As a fellow Football Mamma, I am proud. {{fist bump}”

The boys played an awesome game against their rivals.  And, had they been keeping score, it would’ve ended 18-0… shut them out, skunked them, oh so proud.  Our boys just ran and ran and ran.  They’re awesome like that.

But at one point in the game the flag was dropped.  False start.

Last year, the boys struggled with this alot.  In fact, they worked on it so much that I know what it is, when and why they call it and have begun to look for it.  It makes me feel smart when I can call it on my own.

I commented to the Dad sitting next to me, “I feel sorry for the child who did that… they are going to get an ear full after the game.”

Do you know what happens when you make comments like that?

I should never make comments like that.

After the game, Matthew farted around on the side lines.  All the other boys were gone, with their parents and there stood Matthew, with his sister who had pranced across the field to join him.  One might think that she raced over there with glee to congratulate him on his win, but she didn’t.  That’s not how she operates.

There are BOYS on those sidelines and she only uses her brother as an excuse to be there.

(Johnny, my dearest brother, I am so so so so so so sorry that I did this to you.)

I call for him from across the field, as it’s empty now and my voice will carry.

He dilly dallies.

I call for him again and finally he arrives looking like this.

Now I ask you… does that look like the boy who just beat the pants off his rival?  His attitude matched the picture.  I asked what was wrong and I got his standard “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That phrase doesn’t fly with me.  AT. ALL.

Turns out he made a bad play on the field.  But he was mumbling and mad and frustrated and then I heard the dreaded two words that I did not want to hear.

FALSE START.

OMG that was my kid!!!!!

After feeling horrible about my comment to the other dad, I attempted to tell Matthew that it’s okay to make mistakes but that you learn from them and move on.

“But Mom, it was so stupid.  He looked me in the face and said ‘on 2′” Matthew said.

“And we all make mistakes, honey.  Learn from it, move on, and don’t take your anger out on the rest of us.  There’s nothing you can do to take it back and there’s nothing you can do to change it so there’s no sense dwelling on it.” I replied.

I’m a mom of lots of advice that I don’t take.

So we get home and I twitter about the game and Gary responds.

(Side note about Gary.  I used to work with Gary, although I’m not sure that he remembers me.  Maybe he does, who knows.  I’m werid in that I can pass people that I went to high school with, never spoke to, and know exactly who they are.  It’s a never forget a face kinda thing.  Except important faces, I forget those… sigh… but I went looking at Gary’s blog today…he’s got a son.  He’s adorable.  The son is.  Well, Gary is too… he hasn’t changed a bit.)

Anywho, Gary tells me that I need to tell Matthew about hall of famer Jim “Wrong Way” Marshall.

So we google Mr. Marshall and guess what this guy did?  Talk about a major mess up!  Jim recoved a fumbled ball and ran it into the WRONG endzone, scoring a safety for the other team.  (Don’t ask me what a safety is.)

And he’s in the hall of fame.

So I told Matthew all about it and now I think that he’s feeling a bit better about it.

Thank you Gary!  See, as a mom, I would NEVER know about this stuff to tell them….not when it comes to boy stuff and sports.  These antidotes to make everything better.

Then we went and watched Drillbit Taylor. And laughed.

So, when Matthew wins the Heisman Trophy or goes to Disney World because he just won the Superbowl, feel free to use him as an example of how good football players make mistakes.

Consider it my public service.

Until next time…