A Good Day

We met the boy’s fellow Cub Scout buddies around 8:30 this morning. It was just a coffee and donut start to the day. Coffee for me and the other parents, donuts for the kids. Caffeine versus sugar- if we’d left them together for too long, sugar would have won.

The ride down to the stadium went surprisingly quickly. We made one pit stop to pick up some simple tailgating supplies along the way. We were keeping things pretty simple.

We arrived at Rentschler Field a little after 10. Game time today was noon. The boy was full of questions about football. Who to cheer for? Does offense have the ball or defense? What’s a down? I weathered them as best I could while trying to concentrate on not getting into an accident. The boy is constant priority interrupt and the lanes marked out to guide vehicles to a parking lot are narrow. The parking attendants aren’t too friendly either.

I got a brief sense of relief as we drove by the stadium- it looked like we’d have pretty good parking spots within site of the stadium. I even told the boy as much. The thought made him happy ’cause he didn’t want to have to walk very far.

But then we kept going. And going. And going. In the end, I was right that we were still within site of the stadium, but only because of the lights sitting atop it.

Once the parking was set, the boy and his buddies immediately started tossing a football around. There was grabbing and yelling and laughing and occasionally, the ball changed hands and it started all over again. I decided to wade into the middle of it all and started tossing them the ball. We were in between a couple rows of cars with real tailgating going on around us. None of the Scouts had very good control over their throwing and there were several near misses on tailgaters. Thankfully, they took it all in stride.

The time went by quickly. We finished our snacks and then packed up and headed to the field to pick up our tickets and get to our seats. The kids didn’t even bother complaining about the long walk. They were too busy chatting about the upcoming game and rooting for the Huskies.

Our seats weren’t top-of-the-line, but they were pretty darn good- front row, corner endzone on the visitor side of the field. It was Scout day, so we were sitting with Scouts all around us. Once the game started, there was plenty of hooting and hollering. The older Scouts were yelling for the cheerleaders. When they finally came by I joked with our guys to keep their eyeballs in their heads. The boy joked about his sister wanting to be a cheerleader.

The Jumbotron was a huge hit for all the kids. They probably watched it more than the live action on the field in front of them. The boy had an overpriced hot dog and drink. I had an overpriced pulled-pork sandwich. How overpriced? The sandwich was $10; a 7lb slab of pork butt costs $15. Next time, we’ll be a little more aggressive with the tailgating. But then, the boy enjoyed his overpriced soda. At least it was more soda than ice.

Sometime in the 4th quarter, the Boy Scouts made there way down and started pounding on a tarp in from of us, chanting “Let’s Go UConn!” and stuff. Our guys joined in and the camera man came by and filmed them cheering on the Huskies.

The kids started getting antsy in the 2nd half for the field. Being Scout day, it had been arranged that the Scouts would get a chance to go on the field after the game. With about 5 minutes to go, and the game more or less settled, we started heading for the far end of the field where we’d been told access to the field would be granted. Our guys kept trying to race with one another to be the first one. It was pointless though, because the marching band had taken the field. And yes, they refused to yield. I still don’t know what was the deal…

Ahem. Sorry.

While we were waiting for the band’s performance to end, the boys noticed the large crate of footballs that had been brought on th field. They could barely believe their good fortune that so many of them were available. After the band finished their set, we were finally allowed on the field.

Even though I rarely get the opportunity, I still feel at home on the field. I spent the better part of 8 years on them during the Fall. It was nice to be back on one. Even though it was crawling with Scouts.

The boy didn’t actually get a ball when we first got on the field. They had run out. But one of his Scout buddies had, and they immediately starting tossing it around. I wandered to the 50 to take a few pictures. When I got back, the boy had managed to procure his own ball. We tossed it around a bit, then he wanted to throw it through the uprights. So we tossed it back and forth that way for awhile.

Then we started to have a little fun.

It had thinned out a bit around midfield so the boy and I moved into that area. We started about 10 yards apart. After he caught a few, I stepped back a few yards and kept going. He caught a few more and I stepped back a bit more. He caught a few of those and he started getting a smile on his face. He was catching a real football from farther than he’d ever managed before.

After a few more reps, my arm and shoulder were warmed up and we were now about 30 yards apart. I varied between lobbing them in and putting some zip on them. He was into it now, caching them with his hands when he could. Giving it his best shot when he couldn’t. His arm got tired and he couldn’t make the throws back to me anymore, so I’d move closer to make the throw easier, then move back to make a throw to him. We were 35 yards apart with him on the 50 and he was still catching the ball. It had thinned out more where he was at, and some of his buddies were hanging around him.

So I did the only reasonable thing. I stepped back to the goalline and let fly.

There’s something about a football sailing 50 yards through the air. The tight spiral, the arc of it’s flight. It’s just fun to watch. It’s also irresistible to anyone near the landing zone. As such, the boy never had a chance to catch it because every other Scout within 5 yards wanted to catch it as well.

The boy never did catch anything from that far. But he had a lot of fun trying.

Unsurprisingly, he fell asleep on the ride home.

Our arrival back home was well timed. The Wife had just finished making dinner and serving herself and the lass. The lass had scored a goal in her soccer game. The Wife had found some new shoes. A good day for everyone.

Later, when it was time for bed, the boy told me “Dad, I wish we could have stayed on the field longer throwing the ball. It was more fun than I thought it would be.”

That’s the cruel side of fun, that it has to come to an end. But then, there’s always a next time.