It started just as we passed through Nashville heading north. It was a frog drowning kind of rain, I wondered if the boys were still in the locker room or if they got caught outside in the downpour? Rain blew up the traffic and we arrived only 30 minutes before kickoff. But the rain had let up, to just a fine mist. I noticed the boys had managed to stay dry when we had "Dad prayer" 15 minutes before kick off ~ every young man kneeling with a father's hand on his shoulder, if not his own Father, then someone else's Dad shared with a fellow player.
Kick off, and the rain kicked off as well. The steady solid, soaking kind that my dad as a farmer loved. We were up against a school 4 times our size - the local paper said we would lose by more than 30. The boys did not buy in. In years past we had run the ball, but not last night - in spite of the rain, we threw. By the time the first quarer ended we were up 14 - 0. The rain did not seem to mind, it just kept falling.
2nd half the rain has started to cool things, and the boys are showing some wear as the other team rotates fresh players while our starters are going both ways. We have a couple of mistakes and by the beginning of the 4th we are down 23 - 14. But the boys don't give up, they dig in and on 4th down - despite a monster of a FB plowing the row for the RB, we stop them. We have the ball and drive down the field to score - 2 pt. conversion is no good. 23 - 20. The D digs deep and finds another stop. With a little over a minute left the boys begin their march, bullets to the sidelines - 10 yards, 12 yards, 8 yards, 15 yards. - inside the 20. Going for the corner and the ball is tipped, just before hitting the ground it is intercepted.
The rain seems not to mind, and continues to soak the field as the opposition takes a knee, and the boys line up to shake hands and head to the locker room.
Football has returned, young men will grow & mature, old men will sit in the rain and remember.
