Football Domination

Spring is doing that thing where it delights in messing with you. Oh, do you like gorgeous days? Maybe I’ll drum up a perfect afternoon. Or maybe I’ll just dumb a foot of snow on your head. Ain’t I a stinker?

A week or so ago it was absolutely perfect outside. So much so, I was able to pry Luca’s fingers off his keyboard for some time…what do you call it? Outside. 

I voted baseball, but Luca filibustered his way into throwing the football around. I dressed like pro athlete: desert boots, camo pants, a striped shirt and jaunty bandana. Plus, a mask because of the whole pandemic thing. Despite it being in the low 50’s, Luca insisted on a t-shirt and shorts because he’s insane. 

We arrived at the park and immediately ran into our sport-o neighbor boy (I’m not sure I have permission to use his name). And soon our other neighbors, Chris daughter Callie, arrived (I totally have their permission). 

Luca suggested a good old fashioned game of touch football. Chris chose the teams: Luca and sport-o neighbor boy against the him, Callie and me. Seemed a little lopsided but it was all in good fun, right?

Wrong. Chris decided to put on a clinic of dad-style domination.

He used every trick play in the book. The Statue of Liberty. The Ball In the Sweatshirt. The dreaded Flea Flicker. He would send me into the end zone and just toss the ball into the air for me to use my 1.5 feet height advantage. He seemed less like nice, poet dad and more of a 1970’s older brother. Me may have been working some things out. 

Soon, Luca and sport-o neighbor boy were covered in mud and down two touchdowns. I could tell frustration was setting in when Luca punched me in the stomach. So Chris and I declared the next touchdown would be worth 3 touchdowns. 

I was fully ready to throw the game, but make it look like we were really trying. Oh no! You kids pulled it out in the last minute! You truly are the football champions.

Not Chris. He immediately intercepted the ball and said he had to go teach a poetry class. 

Luca and sport-o neighbor boy reacted by calling us dirty dirty cheaters who cheat and are jerks and dummies. I consider them the true winners because they weren’t secretly crippled by running in desert boots.