I love the change of seasons, and for some reason, I am particularly attuned to fall. Maybe it goes back to my childhood and the anticipation that Christmas was just around the corner, but the crisp golden days of autumn certainly give me a thrill. It helps that this has been a beautiful fall, unlike the gray, rainy one of last year. The days have been warm, the nights have been chilly; just the type of days to curl up and read a good book while munching on a fresh, crisp apple. Or so I've heard. Goodness knows, I'm too busy to do any such thing!
There is a tragic drawback to fall, however---football season. My grandpa likes sports. They say these things tend to skip a generation. In our case, it skipped 2, because neither my parents, nor any of the four of us kids really go in big for sports. For me, perhaps, my prejudice began from too many afternoons waiting to see cartoons until my grandpa's game finished. Whatever the cause, football is both incomprehensible and tedious. With one exception. Devon football---he's #14.
Devon has begun football this year, though he makes it very seldom due to the perfidious nature of his dastardly spelling words. He is truly a delight to watch. It's early days yet, but the sports gene seems to have skipped another generation.
Part of the game was spent on the sidelines; for some reason the coach randomly chose his two shortest and scrawniest players for "rest". When he was in the game, he would do delightful things like staring off into space in the opposite direction of the play, or talk to members of the opposite team so he constantly arrived last at huddle. Once there, he would spend the few remaining seconds trying vainly to work his way into the group, by which time the huddle had broken up and he was left straggling behind his team back to play.
All of this was amusing enough, but part way through the game, one of Red Team was injured enough that he sat out the rest of the game. What to do? Send trusty #14 over to play for the Reds. Devon really came into his own at that point, executing several very credible blocks or tackles or some such things, clearly feeling the weight of responsibility and importance.
But my favorite play of all was when he ran full tilt into the opposite player to block him. This particular boy is very well built (you can see him crouched next to Devon two photos above---#24), and Devon simply bounced off his chest, staggering back about ten feet before he was able to catch himself. Who said all sports were boring? I think this is much more entertaining than those high-priced adults!
What a beautiful send-off to summer!