It's 3 am on the eve of your State Championship football game. As a senior, the "buck stops here" so to speak....and your ride as a Benton Panther football player comes to an end. I just crept through the house to check on you and your sister, as I often do in the night. I'm writing through tears as I can still see that little boy curled up with a Titan hoodie hanging on the post beside you.
I remember your first game. I remember Coach Donnie teaching you all about being a receiver. Even then. I remember Yall trying to bust through the little "run through" and the tape being so strong that you all fell backwards trying to run through it. :)
I remember all those practices....oftentimes, by way of car headlights. I remember your 7th grade year, when the Titans won the championship. In the mud and rain. Much like it's expected to be tomorrow. I will never forget the "smell of football".
I also remember your Junior High years. When your season records weren't always indicative of how talented, and determined you all were. So many of your classmates quit. Moved on to other sports. Or other things. Not you. Not your brothers.
You all have become the leaders on this field that every mother could dream of. Every moment of this season will be etched into your mind forever. Never forget how you feel today. Before you step out on to the field for the last time. Knowing in your heart that you have one more chance to play for your team of brothers, your school, your community and the legacy of Benton Football. I was only 6 years old the last time this has happened. Just let that sink in for a moment.
Think back over this season. The practices. Family Farm. The cookouts. Pep Rallies. Each game....each one harder than the next. From the moment we stepped on the field at War Memorial for the Salt Bowl, I knew in my heart this would be a special season. I knew this team was special.
You all have found ways to win....game after game. You have adjusted to every situation thrown at you....and overcome. From 100 yard touchdowns from an interception in the last minute, to field goals in the last seconds. Injuries, weather...and just bigger arguably faster teams. YOUR team has overcome. There are no heros. Just a team of brothers playing this game that you all love so much. You have restored the confidence of your coaches. And your fans.
Your attitudes and behavior have remained humble and that of winners. You have shown that by never giving up and and working hard you can persevere. By giving God the glory, He has blessed and rewarded your efforts in such an amazing way. Spend some time today thanking Him, son.
Know how much I love you. Know how I fight back the tears as each day passes toward the last game. I've shared with my friends at every game throughout the playoffs that I knew we would win simply because God hadn't prepared me yet for the emotion of "today being the last one." So I'm trying to let Him prepare me now. Of all the teams, two are left. They ALL want to be playing tomorrow night. All eyes are on the Panthers.
Please know how many are praying for you all. Personally, by name. Know that week after week....we lifted your name....Sam Baker....to our Father. You, and your brothers and sisters. And your coaches. Never take for granted where your roots are planted. In a community that finds great strength in prayer. Where it is not only ok to pray to Him, but it's welcomed.
You became a winner that day in December, four years ago when you were Baptized in the Holy Spirit and asked Him to be Coach of your life. When you joined THAT team, you laid out the destiny for your years to come. Thank you, son, for being such a wonderful example of that.
For always trying your best. For picking up your brothers when they were down. For ALWAYS showing a Godly attitide with your actions both on and off the field. For always showing respect to your Coaches, teammates, opponents, officials and your school. You are an excellent role model and I'm so very proud of you. Continue "doing for Him" in whatever you do....and you will be a winner.
"The Best" has been defined. You all have beat the odds. And have earned your place. Enjoy. Every. Moment.
Never forget the smell of football....
The smell will never go away. After a hot summer day, cool evening air sets over the turf creating a light dew that glazes the blades. In the morning, the dew tickles your shoes. The heat rises. Another summer day begins. 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.
Do you know that this is really the time of your life?? I intend to remind you.
Monday, you will be swinging a baseball bat. But for today....it's football season. For only two teams left. For the Panthers. For you. As you walk through with your "high fives" the last time tomorrow night, look each person in the eye. See their pride and love for you and your team staring back at you. Remember it forever.
My advice? Play for Him, son. Play for Him.
I love you.
Mom
I love you.
Mom
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