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| Are you ready for some football? |
If you like football, then there's nothing like watching Hard Knocks. The NFL reality tv show that follows one team through training camp. I get hooked watching because my husband loves the show and learning how the process works is fascinating. Peeking into the lives of young men who have spent their entire life playing football, from peewees to high school to college, trying to score big. Those who are highly talented get drafted and are secured a position. Others are given the opportunity to "give it all they got" to guarantee a coveted spot on the roster of "53". Watching these young men, you see the vulnerability and innocence that was protected throughout their school and college careers. They are all stars, all good enough to make it to this point. Watching them is like looking through the hole in the fence to see what's happening on the other side. But every year, there comes that time when the teams have to pare down their roster. They make several cuts and it's such a difficult thing to watch.
Every year in my house it's the same routine, I get up from my seat and say "I hate this part, it's so sad". Then I walk away from the tv only to look over my shoulder and tiptoe back to the sofa. It's as if these kids are my sons and to watch their dreams fizzle before them is heartbreaking. Imagine devoting your entire life to something and having a dream you hope to live and there it is right in front of you...and then it's gone. Poof! It disappears, but you can still taste it and feel it, you ache for it. What makes it even more difficult to watch is that these kids are sincere in their gratitude for just having the opportunity. It was three years before I stopped tearing up. Now I just get the lump in my throat. What will they do now?
When the season begins, the names of the kids that were cut disappear from my mind like they disappeared from the roster, every now and then I recognize the name of one of the players that was saved. My heart mends over the season, but when summer comes, it's starts all over again, and it's hard to ignore.
Every year in my house it's the same routine, I get up from my seat and say "I hate this part, it's so sad". Then I walk away from the tv only to look over my shoulder and tiptoe back to the sofa. It's as if these kids are my sons and to watch their dreams fizzle before them is heartbreaking. Imagine devoting your entire life to something and having a dream you hope to live and there it is right in front of you...and then it's gone. Poof! It disappears, but you can still taste it and feel it, you ache for it. What makes it even more difficult to watch is that these kids are sincere in their gratitude for just having the opportunity. It was three years before I stopped tearing up. Now I just get the lump in my throat. What will they do now?
When the season begins, the names of the kids that were cut disappear from my mind like they disappeared from the roster, every now and then I recognize the name of one of the players that was saved. My heart mends over the season, but when summer comes, it's starts all over again, and it's hard to ignore.
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