Last night was junior's last football game ever. As Mrs Windmill and I watched these young men leave the field, victorious one final time, we were sad. Junior isn't a star, not even a starter; he backs up his buddy at QB, is special teams captain, holder on place kicks. His non-special teams play for his varsity career consists of 9 plays, one pass, completed for 10 yds. There is not a lot of difference btwn Tom and his buddy, the starter - the biggest difference is the other guy spends the summer preparing for football - Tom is generally playing baseball right up to the day football camp starts. In this day of "If I'm not starting, I'm departing" I am proud of my son for devoting 4 years to his team, his school, his coaches, and his friends. As I watched him hug each of his coaches one last time last night, I couldn't help but think forward to what will soon be his "last HS baseball game ever".
He came home from practice Thursday with a couple blades of grass from the field ["Last practice ever, tonight, folks].
Playing football, instead of concentrating on baseball has cost him a little. He performed poorly at a college camp this fall, because he was still sore from the football game the night before - probably cost him a shot at playing for that coach. His fall innings were down - couldn't really pitch on Saturdays b/c of Friday nights, missed some games when coaches were in attendance. But he wouldn't trade his football memories, such that they are, for anything.
I tried to gently convince him last year to give it up and concentrate on baseball - I gave him all the reasons to quit, told him to think it over, and we'd talk in a week. When I asked him a week later, his answer was "I'm gonna play" - last time the subject came up - his decision.
At this point I am so happy that he did NOT take my advice. He has grown and matured into a fine young man [even if he was voted Class Clown - at least now he knows to pick his spots
] - the football team is a big part of that, more so than our baseball team.All of his coaches have had a huge impact on him, and he will miss them dearly. Coaches sometimes fail to realize how much impact they have on kids - especially the guys that are not the STARS.
Tom isn't a super star - he is not a D1 pitcher, not a pro prospect like many of the sons on this site. He will likely make a decision soon on which D3 school he will attend and play for - no money, no big stadiums, no TV, no pro scouts, no equipment deals from Nike or Easton or Rawlings or Mizuno, no free glove every year, no free bats, no free closets full of apparel. But if his college years provide him with half of the memories and good friends that his high school football team did, he will be a fortunate young man, indeed.
I can't say I feel a whole lot better after posting this, but maybe a little. I know sadness is a relative thing - we have all experienced REAL sadness. My brother watched the game with me last night, played at the stadium where his son played, but killed in a car accident 2 years ago at 17. Bro couldn't stay the whole game - I think it was a little too much for him - that's REAL sadness. But the other kind of sadness, well...there's a bit of that here at the Windmill residence to shake off today. Another great reason for this web site - lets us share our feelings and our stories with strangers who are our friends. Thanks!
