Family and Monday Night Football: Isn't it about...time?

Yesterday I was sitting, well actually, standing and pacing , as I watched 49ers Quarterback, Alex Smith turning over the ball to the Saints like it was their Christmas present. And as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in my brothers old and over sized but still ridiculously awesome Niners jersey, yelling at the TV; my mind flashed back to many years ago. If you would have told me when I was seven years old that I would have willingly chosen to change my plans so that I could watch a football game, I would have said you're crazy.

You see, I have a very distinct memory from a very, very young age. I was laying in bed, angry because I couldn't sleep because of the obnoxiousness of my boys. It was a common occurrence to be annoyed with all the testosterone in the house: I come from a family of only boys, besides my mom. I, being the only girl, felt I had many disadvantages (now, after living with girls for so long, I have found that I was actually very blessed :)) and I always had to voice my opposition to..well..everything. I used the, "daddy, I'm the only girl and it's not fair" complaint as much as possible.

Well, anyways, as I am laying in bed, I all of a sudden hear a very loud and deep, TOUCHDOWN 49ERRRRRSSSSS from my dad, followed by two other yelps from my brothers. I remember getting out of bed, walking out of my room and saying "BE QUIEEETTTT, I'm trying to sleep, you know". My dad told me to come watch it with them, and I walked out and sat in "the triangle". (This was a place on the couch that was perfect for my little tiny body, made by my dad's bent-knees against the couch.) I sat and watched the game with my boys..oh I love my three boys. I was probably 8 or 9 years old. My whole life I have known that when it comes to football, it's all about the Niners. My dad grew up loving them, and passed on the tradition to us.

Growing up, my dad was an extremely busy man. At this point in particular, he was opening up several additional branches, President of Rotary International, and President of Chamber of Commerce. He was also bishop. He was gone all the time. Stress was just my parents life, I don't know how they did it. Fall time meant football time. I knew that football games were just a part of life on Sundays, Mondays, and Saturdays. It seemed like something that I could never get away from, and I was more interested in watching the figure skating competitions, cheerleading competitions, or Boy Meets World. I remember at 7, 8, or 9 years old just waiting for the day I could control the TV and I would never watch this crap again.

Well, to make a long story short of how I grew to love the game, I did. I'm sure being in junior high and high school and going to the games made an impact. I'm sure that gaining an understanding of what was going on in the game helped. But the biggest reason: football represents my boys. One night I got home from ice skating practice. It was kind of a rainy night. Ryan had a lot of energy and in order to get rid of it, wanted to throw some ball in the front yard. So, being exhausted, but loving that little one, we went outside. I had to do 10 pushups every time I fumbled the ball. I loved it, well, maybe not in the moment of my 38th push up...

Anyways..By the time I hit college, I had a solid love of the game. I remember crying the first Friday night of the football season, knowing I couldn't watch my lil man play for White Hall. (even if he only cheered on the sidelines on some games) I remember crying the first time the Hogs played, knowing I wasn't in the good ol' South to enjoy the sweetness of D Mac's success. I remembering smiling from ear to ear the night in my freshman year, Ryan talked to me for THREE hours on the phone about different plays used by coaches and his opinions on them. The list goes on...

As time has passed and family dynamics have definitely changed, I still feel close to my boys through a game. We are all in very different places in life, geographically not being the only one, and yet, every time those Niners come on, and every time I hear, "Are you ready for some football..a Monday night party..." I think of me wearing one of my daddy's big t-shirts and shakin my butt singin that song. And then, in that moment of deja vu, the distance doesn't seem as far and the personal differences don't seem as separable.

It may sound dumb to think that seeing 22 guys on a field, all trying to get a ball to one side or the other can draw a family closer, but I believe it can. When it comes to family, it's all about the simple things; the memories; the not-so-picture perfect moments that are perfect in some bizarre way. It's about the moments that you think you can't wait to be over, but when they are, you'd do anything to have just another breath in that moment. With family, it's all about the time.

P.S. Are you ready for some football?? I am!