The Smell of Football

Saw this today....and it is completely stolen.....But definitely worth the share.  Thanks Dallas!  <3

The smell will never go away. After a hot summer day, cool evening air sets over the grass creating a light dew that glazes the blades. In the morning, the dew tickles your shoes. The heat rises. Another summer day begins. If you cut the grass the previous day, a light smell of gasoline and grass clippings rises from the dew. If the heat creates light perspiration, you begin to smell it...It's this odd conglomeration of morning dew, freshly cut grass, gasoline and sweat.
The smell of football.

Anybody who strapped on pads for the first day of practice knows this smell. The new practice jersey and uniform has a smell of freshly done laundry mixed with the remnants of previous players' stale sweat. From the moment you hit the field, the helmet houses the beads, the jersey gets the cuts, the pants get the dirt and the hands get the bruises. The cleats get caught in grass and the socks get slowly rolled down to the tops of the shoe. From that first line of calisthenics to that first hit drill; the dive drill...the blocking sled, the ball machine, the repeated routes, the perfected step-drops. You get to hear the whistles, the yelling of the coaches...and with it all you get the smell.

The smell lasts through double sessions: through the heat, through the shin splints, past the bum knee. You can see it on your undershirt, the stains on your pants, your jersey reeks, and the stench...that beautiful stench.
Football smells.

It may sound like helmets hitting pads, the wind of a running back getting sucked out of the summer air, or the leg of the kicker on fresh pigskin...but it will always smell more than it sounds. The stench sticks to your clothing for the entire season, no matter how many times you wash. It gets to the point where you wear the stench like a badge of honor. You go through the double sessions, the wind sprints, the three mile testing, the taunting, the fighting, the inevitable chew out during the film session.

You get hit. You get hit some more. You get flattened. You also hit others. You hit them some more. You flatten others. Two hour heavy sessions. Twice a day. Moments that separate the wannabes from the realities.
Then, the doubles end. The season begins. Nine weeks and a playoff push. You get hit. You hit others. Rinse, repeat...then, it stops. You can play pick-up games in every sport. You can go to a field and play a pick-up game of soccer, baseball or lacrosse. You can go to the gym and play basketball...for the players of other sports, you always have the opportunity to relive your past.

In football, once the end comes...it's over. The pads come off. There are no pick-up games. Just pictures, memories, and friendships. The only thing you have left from your days playing football are those memories.
And that smell.

As "stanky" as my Sam gets....I will certainly think twice before I complain.  Does he know that this is really the time of his life??  I intend to remind him.

In Him,
Terri