Ty can do hard things

This is how Ty started off his first season of tackle football, in tears.  He didn't cry often but enough to break my heart. Tears were shed for one of two reasons: 1. because the one-on-one tackling drills were both painful and humiliating and 2. because his mom and/or dad inquiring as to how he was doing during the practice was apparently just the right (or wrong) question to ask that would open the flood gates.  Kyle and I thought the teams' motto ironic, because it seemed that for the first three weeks of practice it was, Ty's blood, Ty's sweat and Ty's tears. 

It was a rough 3 weeks of daily practices that started at the end of July, you know, one of the cooler months around these parts.  Contact sports are not for the faint of heart.  And Ty showed A LOT of heart for his first season.  I realize I am biased as his mom but I am pretty proud of him.  He fell (often) but kept getting back up.  And for those couple of times when he didn't get up, with his face mask buried in the ground, well, there was a coach there to hoist him up, in one big swoop, by the back of his shoulder pads and send him to the back of the line.  Quickly moving him out of the line of play.  Don't get me wrong, Ty wanted to be there, he just wanted nothing to do with the 15 minute tackling drill that would inevitably occur each day.  And frankly I didn't want him there for that either.  Running fast is more his thing but at some point in the game of football he would have to tackle.  And until Ty learned how to do tackle correctly, it was going to hurt.  But I swear the odds were against him every time he lined up for that tacking drill.  I could have picked 10 other kids better sized for him to tackle, yet he seemed to always line up against one of the big dogs.   

Eventually, Ty learned how not to get pancaked.  It required him to hit back when being hit.  It hurts a lot less to tackle then to be tackled . . . is what I'm learning from being on the sideline and what I so badly wanted him to comprehend.  And he did, he finally got it.  Then his confidence returned and the tears went away.  That's when we noticed the change made to our quote board that I snapped a pic of below.   It was a couple of days before we noticed what once read: "I can do hard things" was changed to "Ty can do hard things."   I've really seen my boy live that quote.  His drive has inspired me. 

Making goals to pancake someone must grow one's confidence too, right?  And I love that it's not specific as to whom he might pancake.  He'll just take anyone at this point! : )



He's all smiles these days.

There's Ty barreling out of the tunnel, number 18, just like his dad.  Oh, these two love football.  And boy did we pick the place to live for some football playin'.  I've had many a conversation with Kyle about that.  Of all the places we could have lived where Ty would be introduced to football, we chose one of the most concentrated and passionate areas in the country.  The deep south.  Where they start full-pads, tackle football at age 4.  Really, age 4?!  I think 8 is entirely too young!  But that's a battle that I lost to Kyle (and Ty).  Of course, football played no part in our decision to move here ten years ago but had I been thinking about this boy of mine playing football in Texas, I think I'd have had something to say about that.  And for my last rant I'll just say that it is uncanny to see an eight year old with muscles.  It's too much too soon.  He'll have muscles the rest of his life.  I want my lean boy back.  That said, I love watching him play because he's my boy and because he loves to play.

Sequence 1:

Now he's just throwing kids down.  I couldn't be more thrilled.  Yep, I'm that mom now.  It's eat or be eaten on that football field.  So, I'll cheer for him to eat. 

Sequence 2:

Wearing their pink spats for breast cancer awareness month.  

Oh, and here I am getting my game on.  Not to be outdone by Ty, I played along side the other moms, in a powder puff game to kickoff the boys' football season.  I played so hard that I pulled my quad. These southern mama's came to play, they were a serious lot.  Admittedly, besides pulling a muscle, I had a really good time.  Sign me up for a league somebody.  I've already been thinking about how I'm going to alter my game for next seasons opener.  ; )  My boys were proud of me.  That's all that mattered.