March 7 – “Two-below”

Zakary and Caleb recently concluded a basketball season up there in Waco.  Fine winter sport, that basketball.  Keeps you indoors while the rest of the world is playing soccer in the cold.  Or beginning to practice for that most wonderful of SUMMER sports, baseball.  Or, as we have most recently discovered through Jachin’s participation, playing flag football, that league sanctioned version of the two-below street football we played when I was growing up. 

Of course “two-below” is a designation of how a runner is considered “down” when a defender touches him with two hands at the same time below the waist.  That’s opposed to its not as difficult little brother, “two-anywhere.”  And who can forget house rules spoken in two or three words that everyone understood the meaning of.  Like “Three completes,” indicating the only way to get a first down is to make three complete passes.  Or “Five seconds,” defining the amount of time that had to pass before the defender could rush the quarterback.  And of course those seconds had to be counted out loud with that ever-popular, “One Mississippi … two Mississippi …”  Other than those qualifiers, the only other thing you had to know was the boundaries.  Out of bounds was easy.  Just stay in the street.  Goal lines varied depending on how many people were playing.  “Light pole to back bumper of the blue truck” or some variation thereof usually worked for us. 

Start times for games were pretty simple as well.  Basically, whenever we could get together enough guys to make up two teams.  That could mean as few as four or as many as wanted to play, up to eleven, of course.  You couldn’t go over what the pros used.  Oh, and as long as the teams had an equal number of players.  Well, you could get by with just three guys, or with an unequal number, if that really good athlete would agree to be “All-time Quarterback.”  Of course that really good athlete usually wanted to play defense as well.  Otherwise how could he gain glory from making interceptions?  So the next choice (and the inevitable one) fell to that not-so great athlete who just really wanted to hang around and be one of the guys. “All-time center.” Somebody’s little brother often worked well in this capacity.  With the “Five seconds” rule in effect anyway, even if he rolled the ball to the quarterback, there was still time to get a pass off.  And if the kid was allowed to play, that made all of us look good to the kid’s Mom.  After all, we let her baby play, too.    It was one of the few times that we could bypass the other rule that said “No little brothers.”  And if one started hanging around after the teams were even, he could count on hearing those endearing words, “Go tell Mommy she wants you.”  (Don’t try this at home.  It’s not a pretty picture when he actually does it and Mom figures out where the instructions originated).

Some of the policies and procedures have carried over into our continuation of the family football Turkey Bowl at High Noon (The usual designation for game time.  Note: just two words) on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  Now the restrictions that once held for little brothers could be applied instead to the old, decrepit grandpa who thinks he can still mix it up with the youngsters once a year.  Full time QB worked for me last year (just so I got rid of the ball quickly), as did full time middle linebacker on defense (he’s the guy who just stands in the middle of the street and guards against the run and short pass). 

Wow.  Just talking about this subject has made my back start hurting.  Think for the time being I’ll stick to watching the grandkids.  I still have nine months until the next Turkey Bowl.  I could get in shape …

Psalms 16:5-6 says, “Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.   The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.”

Father, thanks for the imagination-laced rules and commissioner-less decisions of childhood.  Amen.