Touchdown Joe!!!

So… because I’d been so busy lately, I hadn’t yet had the chance to decide what my five-month-old son was going to do with the rest of his life. I mean, I’d pretty much already approved Maddie’s request for pursuing a teaching career. And Alex and I are currently negotiating a transition of her career plan from one involving veterinary medicine to a more liberal field like music and the arts, so needless to say, my career planning calendar had been a bit full to this point in the year. Not to mention, at the spry age of 38, I had yet to establish what I planned to do with my own life (save for the notion of procreating, amassing a collection of worthless comic books and setting the fantasy football world on fire). But back to the neglected one and the reason for this posting. It was late in the afternoon last Friday when I arrived at the boy’s daycare, I was my typical proud self, as I am when picking up any of my three wonderful and amazingly beautiful children. What I would soon witness however, was an omen of such righteous foresight, that it would soon be more than apparent that the boy’s future was not only planned, but already well set in motion. As I prepped the boy for transport, into his car seat he went, the usual cast of booger-stained hoodlums from other classes were coming dangerously close to us as they played with their dirty and equally booger-stained Nerf footballs. A teacher saw the potential collision and attempted to coral them, but as with most toddlers and females ages 16 to 58, they chose to ignore authority and do their own thing. Just at that moment, an errant pass just missed the fingertips of its target and headed straight for the car seat housing the boy. And despite the fact that the ball, like a 1970’s highlight reel, was seemingly moving in slower than slow motion, I couldn’t react. Even though the boy’s safety was threatened. Even though the ball, while only a Nerf, could probably inflict major damage to someone of his age and size. And even though my many years of martial arts training coupled with a freakish, athletic prowess second to none would on most occasions instinctively spring me into action like a hungry and tested battle cat, I couldn’t react. Why? Was I not worried? Was I unconcerned? Or, dare I say, was I curious, deep down inside, as to how the boy would react in a situation such as this? Maybe that’s it, because what I saw, was something that would’ve made Jerry Rice blush and would've made Lombardi proud. Just as the errant pass inevitably entered the usual safe haven known as his car seat, I looked in to survey the scene. What I saw, was what I could only describe in one word, and that word, my friends was... TOUCHDOWN!!! Yes, TOUCHDOWN. And to add to the legend, not only did he catch his first pass at the ripe age of five months, he did so while smiling from ear to ear. And while many great parents and coaches would preach humility and good sportsmanship in a situation such as this, my only thought at that moment was, MODESTY MY PASTY LEFT CHEEK. I could spend countless hours helping him to refine his technique. I could spend months working on his footwork. Heck, I could even spend years helping him to understand the fundamentals of the sport. But I want to be better than that. I want him to be better than that. Which is why I've instead chosen to devote the majority of our time together, from this point on, on developing a really cool and original endzone celebration. A proud day indeed.