November 26 – “A Turkey Bowl Upgrade”

We had a major upgrade to the Turkey Bowl this year.  Instead of playing in the street in front of the house, we all went over to Jones Park, just across Jones Drive from us.  As it turned out we were the only ones there, so we had the whole thing to ourselves.  Swings, playground equipment, and of course a large swath of open field for the most important portion of the day … football. 

And it was a pretty good, inter-generational game, too.  All three of our sons were there.  Cory and Sarah came.  Jachin brought a friend, so we had some teenage-style athleticism (And that friend was already talking smack before the game even began.  Jachin and I were talking about the upcoming game, and Austin interrupted.  Looking at me and pointing hesitantly, he asked, “Wait, are YOU playing?”  Ouch.  Now them’s near fightin’ words, you young whippersnapper).  Micah and Zakary played, too, so the eleven-year-old, younger generation was well-represented.  Four-year-old Luke made an appearance.  Took me to the ground quite easily.  Caleb played for a while.  He is a baseball player, so he said he felt out of his element on the football field.  Not to worry.  His Dad assured him that he would tell him exactly what to do.  And so the instructions began.  On the first play from scrimmage I was the quarterback.  Caleb was rushing.  And when the dust cleared, my shoes were untied.  Yep.  That’s what he was instructed to do.  In an effort to slow his rush down a little, Josh told him to count to ten first.  On the next play I heard, “One, two, ten,” and he was off to the races.  The one command I never heard carried through was when he was told to sing the entire Happy Birthday son before rushing.  So the next time I was on defense, that’s exactly what I did.  Oh, and I forgot to mention … Ezra ran through a play or two as well in his Daddy’s arms.  He certainly had the football scowl going. 

It was a back and forth offensive battle all the way.  In fact we lost track of the score.  There was that one unbelievable defensive gem, however.  That one play that strikes fear into the hearts of offenses everywhere.  It came late in the game.  Josh was leading his team in a March down the field.  Suddenly it became evident that that they were going for all the marbles.  Josh dodged a rusher, he faked to his left, then to his right, then back to his left, then to his right.  Finally he reached back to the very core of his being and let fly a bullet of a bomb to his receiver way downfield.  The toss, however, was woefully short of its target, and more of a line drive than a towering spiral.  It was rocketing right toward the free safety, DadDad (Free safety is the catch-all term for the old guy who couldn’t really cover anybody so he stood around in the defensive backfield and wreaked havoc upon all who entered his domain … for the second and a half they were usually there).  But this time all eyes were on the free safety.  The ball was coming right at him.  Uh oh, this would be a problem.  The ball’s trajectory was rapidly diminishing.  He could still make a play on it, though.  All he had to do was dive at just the right moment.  Wait.  This was DadDad, right?  No diving was happening in his neck of the woods.  So the tension eased a bit on the offense.  An incomplete pass they could handle.  Some even dropped their heads and began the slow trudge back to the huddle for the next play.  But those who did that missed the most magical play of the day, of the year, of the decade, nay, even of the entire revival years of the Turkey Bowl itself. 

The ball continued to drop.  DadDad decided early on against the foolhardiness of the dive, but he had one ace up his sleeve.  Well, maybe in his shoe.  For as the ball arrived, he casually lifted his left foot right into the path of the flying orb.  There was the crunch of leather on leather.  The ball abruptly stopped its forward movement.  For an agonizing second it remained in contact with that foot. Forever enshrined in instant replay history (Well, it would have been if anyone had been filming).  And then came the impossible.  Instead of flying off in haphazard fashion as expected by all, the ball lazily lifted off the shoe … and right into the waiting arms of a grinning DadDad.  Oh, there was no attempt at a further runback.  None was needed.  He merely bowed to his left and to his right, acknowledged the gift from the passer (poor Josh), and set up for the next play.  What a play.  What a clinic of defensive secondary work. 

In fact, the play was so extraordinary that when the group gathered after the game for the media photo session, a decision was made.  See, we decided to reinstate the idea of an MVP trophy.  Aunt Christi will have one made before next game (Can you get it done in a year, Christi?  Better than the fifteen minutes we were going to give you).  And in honor of this year’s player of the game (a close winner over “the girl.”  Great game, Sarah) the name of this new trophy will be The DadDad’s Foot MVP Award.  Can’t wait to see that one. 

Psalms 5:12 says, “For surely, O Lord, you bless the righteous; you surround them with your favor as with a shield.”

Father, thank you for family football games and parks to play them in.  Amen.