Boys of Fall

 

I was a boy of fall once. Meant the world to me to play football on Friday nights under the lights. Then on Saturday afternoons… and even a few times on Sunday. There’s a place for a boy and a man to come together and be one in the same. And it’s on a football field. It’s a man’s game, that’s played with a boy’s spirit.

If there is any advice I could ever give to anyone playing this game it’s to have fun doing it and enjoy every moment of it. Every play; play as if it’s your last. The coach in the video breaks his huddle with ‘last play’ – and it gave me goosebumps. (My arm hair is still raised as I type). The love of something bigger than yourself is an emotional scenerio for a high school kid to be in, and even bigger as a collegiate and grown man. But it’s maybe the most gratifying and rewarding accomplishment to look back upon, at the end of a day, realize that being a part of something bigger than myself was worth the sacrifice.

There is so much to learn from the game of football that doesn’t take place between the lines, but happens off the field in conversations on a Thursday night driving your high school clunker around with your best friend. Sharing life stories and being best friends… When you play this game you give your heart to it… at least you should. We play this game with emotion and with the understanding that every play could in fact be our last. But, it doesn’t stop us. It drives us. It drives us to be our best. And football has gotten that from so many young men. Young men who believed in something bigger than themselves. They were more than the boys of fall, they were the men of fall.