Will I never learn?

When my son joined the football team at his new high school, he only had one year of midget football under his belt, and that was 2 years ago. The less experienced kids don't get as much time on the field, but it doesn't seem to bother him. It didn't help that for a week during practice he didn't have a helmet. He thought he had lost it and didn't say anything to me about it. I knew it was sitting in the trunk of my car, but didn't know he needed it. That was the week they started practicing tackling and running plays, which they wouldn't let him do without a helmet The extras they ordered hadn't come in yet. That was also the week they assigned first-string positions.

He loves the exercise every day, the weight training, the pasta party Fridays, and just generally being part of a team. There are 3 teams, Freshmen, JV, and Varsity. The older kids watch out for the younger ones in the hallways and during study hall and lunch. It's nice to be a freshman and have a senior acknowledge you in the hallway, right? There are only about 750 kids in the whole school, and they are pretty tight. I think we had over that number in my graduating class at Public High.

I've only missed 2 away games this season - of course those were they only 2 games they won. My son suggested maybe I should stay away more often... They are just starting to really come together as a team, with 3 games left to go. Not many of them had a lot of experience, and the coach only has so much to work with. Being such a small school, only 19 boys signed up. You can tell some of them are really into it, and so frustrated by their losses. My kid is just happy to be there!

I was at the game this past Friday, and let me tell you, those kids put their hearts into it. It was a really great game, they played hard and tried out some new strategies. There were some really excellent passes and catches. I walked around taking pictures, and at one point in my wandering up and down the sideline I came across a fellow mother who was video taping the game. They try to video tape as many games as possible. At the next practice they review the tape as a team and Coach gives them feedback. At the end of the year, from what I understand, some technologically advanced parent splices them into a Best Of dvd for each player to have as a keepsake.

So, I'm talking to the videotaping mother, just chatting about the game in between plays, and she asks, "Which one is yours?" I tell her he's number 35, and she looks out to the field to try to find him. I say, "Oh, no, he's on the sidelines - where he usually is". And then I look down at the video camera in her hand and start to panic. "Oh my god! Are you RECORDING?!?!"

Her eyes went as wide as mine as she pulled the camera up to her eye in what seemed like slow motion. Sweet relief, she had stopped recording in between plays. "Good thing", she said, "cause I don't know how to rewind this thing!". "Yeah, good thing, cause it would have been a tragedy if Coach's video camera accidentally got broken!".

Why can I not just once in a while think before I speak? Especially when there is a video camera around?