Horizontal

I can see the light at the end of the football tunnel. Cooper has practice tonight and a game Saturday and then it is finito.

It's been an interesting experience. For both of us. It's been fun. And it's been not fun.

Coop got laid out for the first time on Tuesday night at his game.

You know how it goes - a big ol' pile of boys. And they all start peeling off each other. Then one of them stays down. And you start looking for your kid's number among the vertical. And then you realize your kid is the one that's still horizontal. And Tuesday night it just happened to be #78 that had his face in the turf. Hmmmm.

The coach and a ref were hovered over him. Then another coach ran out.

I was standing by a very overprotectice, call 911 and take your kids to the ER type of a Mom.

She kept saying "GO OUT THERE! GO OUT THERE! HE'S HURT! HE'S CRYING!"

But I didn't. And the Captain didn't.

I stood there and prayed and swayed and chewed my fingernails and said "GETUPGETUPGETUPGETUP" in my mind over and over and over. I just said, "Not yet" out loud.

This is all on the heels of a 14 year old friend of ours who broke his femur during a game last week. 911 call, morphine injection on the field, ambulance ride to the hospital, surgery, pins, full leg cast for 10 weeks - the whole shebang.

Humph.

My eyes were going back and forth from Cooper to the Captain. Cooper to the Captain. Cooper to the Captain. The Captain was working the chains that night.

Epi-pen toting Mom was hollering "WELL IF YOU AREN'T GOING, GET THE CAPTAIN TO GO OUT THERE! GO! GO! GO!"

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

Time kind of ticked on a little bit and then I saw the Captain turn to hand somebody his number sign stick thing, but then Cooper got up. Much to Coop's dismay, he did NOT get to get carted off on the buggy and give a thumbs up to the crowd. But he did make it off the field. To the applause of all. And the relief of his mama.

Apparently got clothes-lined and got hit in the throat and kind of had his head jerked back. He trotted off. Sucked back the tears. Got some water. And then headed back in the game.

I know, I know - seasoned football moms will say, 'That's just part of the game. Get over it."

Well, I'm not a seasoned football mom.

And it was my kid on the field.

And say what you want, he's still my little 8 year old baby that wears spiderman underpants. I don't care how big his shoulder pads are and how hard his helmet is.

*sigh*

Basketball season is next.

No safety equipment required.