The Super Bowl is not my thing. Any party I’ve ever gone to was about the socializing, commercials, and the snacks. After we had kids, and our party invitations lessened, the Super Bowl was a great time for me to catch up on my correcting, reading, or processing photos. In my perfect world, professional football would have shorter games, so there was more time to live, instead of watch. I’m really not a fan.
My husband was a mild fan of pro football. He liked watching it on lazy Sundays, but never planned his life around that game. For many years, he loved Arizona, and in time also came to enjoy watching the Patriots play. I’d never say he loved professional football, but he enjoyed it.
The year my son was in Kindergarten, he found football. He started watching it, repeating stats, and let his mind be devoured in it. Before he found football, the child spent hours studying maps and presidents. Needless to say, when he found this sport he loved, we were thrilled! “Finally, something he can have in common with his peers!” We said over and over in excited emotion.
We did everything we could to help our son’s love for football, then baseball, and now ALL sports grow. Four years later, and he’s still obsessed. Scott and McCartney grew a tight bond over everything that had to do with sports, especially the Massachusetts teams. Whether it was a sport Scott liked or not, he’d watch it, study it, and discuss it with his son. Even when the two didn’t see eye to eye on any other topic, they found their common ground, their love together in sports.
After Scott passed, McCartney struggled. His mind didn’t follow the Red Sox as closely, and he barely asked to see football. I was worried, that grief took a piece of my son away, even if he couldn’t say that is why he stayed away.
This year, his love of sports, baseball, and football have returned, and they are stronger than ever. The past two weeks have been constant chatter around “Deflategate” and how the Patriots have to be innocent. Last Sunday was all about the Pro Bowl, which to me, is the most pointless game ever. My son is obsessed, which drives me nuts, but without this obsession, a piece of him is missing.
Tonight, his team is in the Super Bowl, and only our New England friends are cheering for them. More than anything, he wants to see this game with his dad. Since that’s impossible, I’m going to swallow my opinions about cheaters and winning, put on my red, white and blue to cheer for my son’s team. I will put out our Super Bowl snacks, and watch this game with my son. I will hope they have more touchdowns than the other team, and let my son see his favorite team win the Super Bowl for the first time in his life.
I’m going to do my best to stay strong, not let the grief take over, and be there for my son. Today, I cheer for his team to win, not because I believe they deserve it, but because I’m my son’s biggest fan.