Each week, weather permitting, the baby boomer Mom's in town would hang out the laundry to dry. Walking home from school in the fall, I couldn't help but notice when the football jersey's and pants started to appear. After attending the high school game on Friday night, you began to notice which gridiron heroes lived near you. At that time, I started to think about the days when I would have my own jersey hanging on a clothes line. To me, it meant that I was part of the ultimate game and more importantly, a Coldwater Cavalier. Little did I know that there was so much more behind it.
In 2010, Kenny Chesney released his classic song the Boys of Fall. This song has hit home for all who have played the game. The lyrics address the inner feelings which grow within the team, the unity and the timeless bond. Kenny includes other aspects of the game such as the fans, the old men who know it all and he mentions the young girls who dream about the boys of fall.
Kenny, you are great and all, but I am sorry, you missed one very large aspect of the game and more importantly a key member of the football family unit which grows in importance from the group of young men who step onto the gridiron.
I am speaking of course about the Moms of Fall.
Mom up in the stands, who lives and dies with every play. Who has held her breath so hard one moment and yelled so loudly the next, her voice is unmistakable to her son amidst several thousand in the stands. Mom who prays for her son to both be given a chance and receive the best of protection in that quiet moment when they turn and face the stars and stripes.
The same person who has taken that grimy, dirty practice uniform from the gym bag with a look of aversion only to produce a uniform that is worthy of her son to wear to practice and of course on game night. Even when that uniform is produced from a gym bag leaking a muddy brown form of liquid from one corner after a monsoon like practice. (True Story)
My friend Brian told me his Mom had a special process to remove the grass and mud stains from his white game pants. A football mom wants nothing but the best for her young man on the field. Football season could be particularly tough on that washer and dryer.
I have overheard Moms in the stands who worry their son needs water or a towel. A worry voiced repeatedly until the need is met. I have seen those same Moms thank the person providing the water or towel after the game, just because it eased her concern. Those worries soon replaced by the fact that a linebacker is bearing down on her boy and he better just BACK OFF!! Then there are those Mom's who may not be 100% sure what a linebacker is if her son doesn't play that position. The pride runs no less deep.
The meals provided, the game day routine observed, an extra snack for the bus ride to the game. An extra special one for the bus ride home. The victory meals or the consoling fare to ease the sting if things didn't go their way. Mom seemed to know what worked best.
Let's not forget the cookies. Baked goods of all kinds are welcome by a gridiron gang but in our football family circle, the cookies were the bomb. Those don't just happen. For our boys, there were the game day cookies made by Missy, (some of us Dad's benefited from these as well.) Once we reached the playoffs, there were the 'Playoff Cookies' that my wife Kelly brought to the games. The reasons for victory run deep.
You see them in the crowd as you enter the stadium, The Moms of Fall. A number on her shirt, a button worn with pride, the special good luck item that will bring her son and his team the bit of luck, or 'Mojo' as we like to call it. Even the mother of the Head Coach will wear her son's button from his high school or maybe college playing days. They beam with an unmatched pride and cheer like no other, they are the Moms of Fall.
As their son moves from the youth leagues, through junior high and up to the varsity ranks, Mom learns how to celebrate the victories and more importantly, how to navigate the troubled waters of a painful loss or less than desired level of performance. The grumpy slouch, the one word answers, the brooding silent stare of resolve. Mom would like to talk, to make it better but understands that space, and probably a snack, will be best for now.
It is not until years later, that the Boys of Fall begin to understand, your loss, was her loss, your victory, was her victory, your mistake, was her mistake, your pain became her pain.
The worst pain, coming in the form of injury, especially a season ending injury. Even beyond the injury itself, Mom deals with pain of being unable to take away the mental pain that goes with it.
My friend Deb faced this not once but twice when her two oldest sons suffered season ending knee injuries in the first games of their senior year. Beyond the medical procedures and the physical therapy sessions, many countless hours spent just wanting to do something, anything to give them back their season. The constant desire to get beyond the surly exterior caused by the harsh reality becomes the new playing field for Mom to be the best she can be for her son. The trepidation for Deb remained however as her third son took the field on Friday nights. Each week came the frenetic rise and fall of emotion through the game to make sure that he walked off the field at the end of the game.
Today, at the end of each game, you see photos being taken with teammates, friends and classmates. Perhaps some special family members who traveled to see the game. Mom recording all of these moments to keep them treasured forever. Mom gets her rightful place in several photos for she wants to hold onto the moment forever. The triumphs on the field fueling the smiles and joy. Only Mom can deliver a post game hug so tight that it penetrates the armor worn by the Boys of Fall.
Other than senior night, I am not sure I have any photos with my Mom while I was in uniform, It wasn't as prevalent to do so in the mid 80's. We headed to the locker room and saw Mom and Dad when we got home. But there are those memories.
On the morning of October 21, 1983, I had returned from my morning job at Bettie's Restaurant uptown. In time to get cleaned up for school and put on my game-day jersey. It was week 8, the Cavs were 7 - 0 heading into New Bremen to take on the Cardinals that night. Mom was at the stove in her housecoat making that special gameday breakfast. Dippy eggs, bacon and toast is a staple in our family on the weekend. On Friday morning, it was special.
My orange juice ran low and I asked Mom if I could please have more. ( I am sure I said please.) Her reply more than caught me off guard. She said, "You can have more juice if you promise to score a touchdown for me tonight." Said with her grin that my siblings and I miss so much.
For many players, this could be, while not a guarantee, much more likely than it was for me. I played defensive tackle which, as many will attest provides very limited opportunities to touch the ball let alone score. Nonetheless, I gave her my assurances, "I will do my best Mom,"
The game that night progressed to the third quarter and the Cavs mounting a 35 - 7 lead. Our defense had New Bremen backed up facing fourth and long from their own 13 yard line. The Cardinal punter caught the snap and the sound of his foot hitting the ball was soon followed by another 'Thump!'
BLOCKED!!!
Kevin Dues blocked the punt and the chase for the ball was on. Linebackers Mike Kaiser and Chuck Alig knocked each other down going for it and I dove over the top of the them and found it! The Holy Grail, the Holy of Holies, the football on the ground. I covered it up and saw the official raising his arms!! I was in the end zone!!!! TOUCHDOWN!!! Chaos ensued as my defensive teammates and I went to the bench.
I sat on the bench and it took about two seconds to remember the bartering for more orange juice. How?, How did she know? I looked up in the stands and saw Mom, cheering, smiling, beaming with pride. Like a Mom of Fall. Can all of the Mom's of fall see the future?
Later in the year, our tenth game as we finished undefeated, I intercepted a pass. Another unexpected occurrence for a defensive lineman. Through an unusual chain of events, the ball somehow made it to our sidelines and was given to me later on the bus ride home to Coldwater. I brought the ball into the house and put it on the kitchen counter. figuring I would get it later. My parents were gathered there with their close friends. After chatting for a bit, my friends and I left to celebrate. The next day, I couldn't find the football.
I looked around and soon gave up and asked Mom. Without looking up from her work, she said it was in her curio cabinet. My eyes got wide. The curio cabinet was pretty much off limits to anyone but Mom. It contained her most precious treasures and nick knacks. It turned out that their friend Leroy Kessen thought the ball deserved a place of honor and he put it in Mom's curio. I asked nervously if she wanted it taken out of there. She replied, "No, its fine." I said, "Cool," and walked away thinking that was pretty neat. A football in Mom's curio.
The ball stayed in their for a few years after it was autographed by all of my teammates. One summer, I returned home from college and it had found its way to my bedroom. Moved by a Mom of Fall.
Each year, as September fades, I especially think of my Mom and all the wonderful things she has done for me, for our family. I see her every Football Friday night, in the faces, the scarves and jackets. I see her in the ones wearing the buttons with their son's face on them, cheering, praying, hoping.
Twelve years ago on this date, I received the call from my family, the worst call I think I could have ever received. There had been an accident. Mom hadn't gone to the Coldwater vs St Henry game that night but had been on her way to meet family and relatives at a post game party.
The street was dark, the driver didn't see her. There had been an accident.
The next week we found a way to get by, we found a way to take a breath, to take another step, to hold each other closer than we had ever had before. We made sure we took care of each other as Mom would want us to. We also made sure to give forgiveness to the young man involved, as Mom taught us.
I was given solace from the Cavaliers as I stopped by the practice field. They knew my Mom as she worked in the school cafeteria. The Boys of Fall had my back, they referred to her as the 'Nice One' in the lunch line.
Each fall,the season starts and the season ends. The Mom's of Fall live on in bright shining moments forever etched in our football lore.
Through a playoff run, the rituals and the Mom Mojo takes on an even bigger meaning. With each week, the nerves and anticipation builds early in the week.
With victory, the Mom's will celebrate tremendously and swell with pride. As the stage gets larger, the breath gets held longer, the voice gets louder.
It would be nice if Kenny could add a verse. I feel the Moms of Fall need immortalized as well.
If for no other reason, for when things don't turn out like they had hoped, especially on the largest stage, the hearts of the Mom's of Fall are breaking just like those of the boys................
maybe a little more.
Addendum:
10/4/16
In the last decade, I belonged to a message board hosting
site which centered on Ohio High School athletics. I spent most of my time on the football
message boards.
In September of 2010, while thinking about my Mom, I started
a thread about ‘Moms and their football playing sons.” I shared my stories as
provided in the blog above. I asked for
them to share their stories. Many of
which contributed to this blog which has been so well received. Other than a spelling correction or minor
format change, these are the comments as provided by the individuals who posted
them. (Poster Name in italics)
candoattitude
09-08-2010
Cool thread, no doubt.
My freshman year it became evident that we were not going to
have enough kids to field a freshman team. As a tailback, I feared getting my
butt kicked on Saturday mornings, and of course, getting it handed to me every
day in practice as the scout team RB.
So, I decided to quit just as two-a-days were gearing up. My
Mom (and Dad) couldn't change my mind. After three missed practices my Mother
had the head coach come to the house that evening. Coach Zody convinced me to
come back to the team that evening under the watchful eye of my Mother at her
kitchen table.
I went back to practice the next day, had a great
season....10 touchdowns and a 5-1 record if I remember correctly. By the time
my senior season concluded, I ended my football days as a First Team All Ohio
Wide Receiver.
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A Post from a Mom included
Central66
09-08-2010
I think it is the sweetest thing ever, thanking your mom's.
Mine is a former Tiger and now in college (football).
Speaking as a mom, I can honestly say..........your loss was
her loss, your victory was her victory, your mistake her mistake, your
pain.....hers.
I don't bother explaining it to my son yet, as he will only
FULLY understand this when he has a kid of his own.
Thanks for giving me hope fellas, that one day he will see
without me having to point it out.
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MACster
Location: Buzzard's Glory ( I left this in because it is a
Coldwater thing. J)
09-08-2010
In our playoff run during my senior year, my mom came across
a photo of when myself and about 8 other senior friends who were on the team
were in elementary. It was a photo from a friends' birthday party in which we
went mud diving in the woods with just our shorts on. None the less, we were
covered from head to toe in mud.
My mother copied the photo and made a small sign out of it
that said "whoopin butt since we've been 12!" The sign made it's way
to Paul Brown Tiger Stadium that year and won a state title.
Another good one, as I was walking down the 50 yard line
with my parents on Senior Night we got to the end and I turned to give my
father a hug, then I turned to give my mother a hug, but she wanted a kiss on
the cheek too. She forgot that it was 80 degrees out and my cheek was dripping
with sweat.
Here's a story from the group of Senior Moms during my senior
year. During the playoffs and a few away games the Senior Mom's would pack a
meal for us on our way home. The meal always included a sub, and everyone
wanted a mayo packet for their sub. Well after a few road games the mom's had
quite a few mayo packets left. At a get together after a game, one of the
Senior Mom's started hiding the extra mayo packets in another Senior parents
house. This went on throughout the season and to this day, 3 years later, one
of those Senior Mom's told me that she just found another mayo packet!
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D'Oro
09-08-2010
This is a story of two Mom's, Two or three years ago while attending a UA
football game I sat a few seats down from a lady who had two of those buttons
Mom's wear on their coats to show support for their sons, you know they have
pictures on them of the player. Well I
couldn't see who was on the buttons.
The game started, another woman sat in front of the woman
with the buttons and pulled out a book to read. Now I know this second woman is
most likely a band mother, so as the game goes on the first lady is cheering
and yelling at the refs, calling out the names of most of the players,
genuinely being a good fan (wish there were more) while the woman with the book
at first ignored this woman it became clear as time went on that she was
perturbed that this lady was ruining her read.
When half time was over the book lady resumed her reading
and the football mom resumed her cheering, now the book lady turns around and scowls,
while the football Mom says, "Who in the hell brings a book to a football
game!!"
Cooler heads prevailed and Book Lady leaves escorted by her husband. I also noticed at that time that this woman
was probably a grandma and not a mom. When the game was over I was curious to
see who her grandkids were. To my surprise,
they weren't players they were coaches, Mike Golden (head coach) and Ed Golden
(asst. coach)of the Upper Arlington Golden Bears were the pictures that she
displayed so proudly.
(Once a Mom of Fall, it stays with you.)
lmavcch3
09-09-2010
Heard a story from a Mom at tonight’s game. She made her son
bring every piece of equipment issued home after a week or two of practice to
clean it because, "it had to be nasty". She scrubbed it all up,
brought it to school the next day so he wouldn't have to deal with it on the
bus. She had it all nicely folded and organized. To her horror he came home and
told her he had to practice without his hip and butt pads. He went on to
explain that he didn't know how to put them in his girdle so he went without
them. She assured me next time; the pads would be installed after the next cleaning!!
Gotta love those Moms!!!
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Walt
09-09-2010
I don't think my stories can touch some of these.
Here are some of my random memories....
My mom took pride in making sure my pants were clean each
week. We wore white game pants my first three years and played all of our games
on grass/mud. She had a special process for getting the grass & mud stains
out of my pants. I think she also went through two washers & dryers from
the time I was in 7th grade until I graduated.
Despite there being a couple thousand fans at the games, I
could always distinctly hear my mom's voice cheering. Against Bellaire I caught
a pass and had one man to beat for a TD. I just remember hearing her yell
"Go! Go!" and I kicked it into 5th gear and out ran him to the end
zone for a 54 yd. TD.
In the final regular season game of my senior year we had to
win to make the playoffs. We were on the road and ended up winning in double
overtime. All of our fans ran onto the field when we won and my mom was the
first person I saw. She was crying and hugging me so tight it hurt.
Other than that, I just remember always finding my parents
in the stands before the game started. I would always look up at them when we
ran onto the field. At home it was easy because they had the same season
tickets every year. On the road it was a challenge but a ritual. I wouldn't
feel ready to play until I saw them.
My Dad made all my football games, but his work schedule kept
him from attending every track meet. My mom never missed a single sports event
of mine and I remember her sitting in the cold & rain all by herself at the
early April track meets.
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04goldball
09-10-2010
Cool thread! My Mom always made spaghetti dinner every
Friday after school for me throughout high school. My mom washed my practice
jersey and pants too many times to count! Throughout the ten years I had the privilege
of playing football on game days always made a special lunch with 5 alive in a
thermos! The thing I will always remember most is that she was always there! No
matter what! My favorite thing now is that I can still thank her for the way
she raised not only me but for all 7 of us! Sound like we all have alot to be
thankful for!
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Moose73
09-10-2010
You guys keep going with this thing and you'll have old
Moose in tears! My mom worked in the evenings and was never able to come to
games. She'd always ask me on Saturday mornings, "who won?" (Knowing
full well who DID win because she'd already seen the Dispatch sports page).
It's a tough thing for guy to lose his mom -no matter how old you or she is.
Love and respect her like there's no tomorrow because one day, she'll be gone.
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Devilfan_4
09-12-2010
I love this thread! Football moms definately deserve a lot
of credit! My mom couldn't tell you what a Linebacker was, and that was my
position but she never missed a game, she washed the most disgusting stinking
a** uniforms for me, and she was there to give me a big hug after every game
weather it was a win or a loss and knew me well enough to know that if it was a
loss to just have a large pizza waiting for me at home and let me be pissed at
the world for the rest of the weekend and not bug me about it! She didn't
understand the game but she undrstood what it meant to me, and supported me in
every way imaginable!
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Another Mom of Fall contributes her thoughts.
zambrown
09-16-2010
Too late. LOL As a sports mom, it's wonderful to hear all
you big, tough football players showing appreciation for all that your moms
have done for you.
Quote: (from the above post by Central66)
Speaking as a mom, I can honestly say..........your loss was
her loss, your victory was her victory,your mistake her mistake, your
pain.....hers.
I absolutely second this. When his heart breaks, so does
mine and when he succeeds, my heart wants to burst with pride!
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Drewline
09-16-2010
Mom=MVP
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Kill0331
09-16-2010
Every night during football season, my mom washed my
practice stuff, it didn't matter what time I got home from practice she always
cleaned it and had it ready for me the next morning.
I never had to wonder where my mom was going to be sitting
on those Friday nights, right at the 50, and 13 rows up. She would be there
every game by 5:00pm home or away. She would be waiting there to give me a kiss
and remind me "Play Every Down Like Its Your Last" and tell me
"She loves me and how proud I make her".
After my senior season, my last home game, we won 27-7. Her
and I sat there for about 2 hours on the sideline, talking, laughing, and
crying. What a ride it was. Nothing is better then Playing Ohio High School
Football on Friday Nights.
Thank you Moms!
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truland72
09-16-2010
Great thread, great posts. My mom used to make me steak
dinners for lunch. Understand we were a poor family but still every Friday at
lunch I’d come home from school and it would be there, steak and tators.
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Coke72
09-16-2010
(This is another of my stories that I shared on the thread.)
While in College at Capital, one spring I caught some nasty
bug and was down and out for about a week. Once it ran its course, I still
couldn't get back on my feet, so to speak, on cafeteria food. Just still didn't
feel right. 100 miles from home with little money, not much I could do.
A teammate of mine from the Columbus Area saw what was going
on and picked up the phone and left the room. Came back in a minute later, said
grab your coat and wouldn't tell me where we were going. About 20 min later, we
pulled into his Mom and Dad's driveway. We walked in the house and his Mom had
whipped up two big steaks, potatoes and veggies. I felt like a million bucks
after that.
Thanks Doghead for seeing what I needed. Thanks Mrs.
Lombardi for that awesome meal and God Bless you and your family. In the early
90's, I attended her funeral. Heaven gained one heck of a lady.
I will also never forget the trip to Shadyside with another
teammate. John’s Mom fed us like kings
from the moment we walked in the door and filled our arms when we left to head
back to Columbus. The Goulash she made
was tremendous to say the least. Thank
You Mrs Haswell!!
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JATeufelHunden
09-17-2010
Awesome Thread by the way.
Coke, sorry for the loss of your mother.
I don’t know if I have any specific stories really but my
mom was at every game regardless, that was from pee-wee through HS. In HS after
every game when I came home she always had either potato soup, chili, or vegetable
beef soup waiting which as you all know was amazing after a chilly late Sept.
or Oct. game in Ohio .
She was for sure my biggest supporter and biggest fan coming to every game ringing
a big cow bell from the time the team stepped on the field until the final whistle
blew. She was there rain or shine and blowing snow ringing that bell. Even when
I started coaching she was there, every game I coached she was there in true
form ringing her bell cheering for kids she never knew just because her son was
involved in the team.
Good luck to everyone's team this year!!
Thank you to all the mothers who braved Ohio Falls
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I believe that last post sums it up pretty well.
To our Beloved Moms of Fall…..
Dirty pants and jersey’s
torn,
Mom scrubs them up and
sews with pride
Snacks and meals always
around
Mom takes care of her
boy of fall
She wears your button,
brings her bell
Carry’s blankets,
scarves and fights the cold
You hear her voice,
above the throng
Cheering on her boy of
fall
(Chorus:)
Well it's turn and
face the Stars and Stripes/
It's fighting back
them butterflies/
It's call it in the
air, alright yes sir we want the ball/
And it's knocking
heads and talking trash/
It's slinging mud and
dirt and grass/
It's I got your
number, I got your back when your back's against the wall/
Knowing that for our Mom’s, we’ll give our all
We’re the Boys of Fall….