FOOTBALL

Confession: When I was a younger girl I had a secret fantasy.

No, not that kind of fantasy.

And no, it didn't involve pink.
It had nothing to do with being an actress (but, that was later in my youth, of course).
It was the furthest away it could be from becoming Miss America.
In fact, most girls entering their teenage years might have dreams of seeing the world, or maybe having the hottest boyfriend in school, or even making straight A's just to impress the teachers.
I, of course, was not that typical girl.
Sure, I liked pink. But I liked green better.
I liked ribbons. But I liked my hair back in a messy ponytail better.
And I liked dollhouses. But I liked grass stains better.
I liked boys. But they still had cooties.
And yes, I liked gymnastics, and even the girls soccer team that I was on.
But I liked something else better.

As far as I was concerned, I was going to play football. And nobody was going to stop me.

And yet, I must have known. I must have known the social norms about that sort of thing. A girl? Playing FOOTBALL? I never really mentioned this little plan of mine to either of my parents. I thought they would think I was crazy. And while me being crazy is certainly negotiable, I didn't think this plan was completely out of reach. After all, the Broncos had just won back to back Superbowls. They would be needing some serious talent to continue this run. Maybe a girl could be the answer? Maybe, I, Heather Newell, could play for the Denver Broncos.

So, I coerced Lance to play football with me in any spare moment. Like little kids immersed into their own little fantasy world, a world that only kids could create, we played. We designed secret plays. I would be the quarterback, Lance the receiver, and on our street, on the hot steaming pavement in late summer evenings, magic would happen. At least it would feel that way. When we were feeling particularly reckless, we would wait for our parents to go to sleep and then would play the "sacking game" on the couch. I would pretend to get the ball, and then proceed to try and avoid Lance, who would try to tackle me on the couch. It sounds silly. And looking back, it was. But I was taking this thing pretty seriously.

I remember when I realized this dream of mine, this fantasy was an impossibility. Normally, I don't believe in impossibilities, but ultimately playing football, for me, was not in my cards. I remember going to Lance's first pee-wee football game. The boys were good. Real good. And I thought about myself in one of those stinky, nasty uniforms. I thought about what it would like to be tackled, really tackled, by a boy. And somewhere, at somepoint between the touchdowns, half time snacks, and cheer, after the game I recognized that I just quite simply couldn't play football. And I was sad. I was. But I was okay. Because I knew I could focus my energies and dreams elsewhere.

I think my dream of playing football evolved into me becoming a hard core fan of football. After I started playing competitive soccer I found a niche, and football became more of a hobby instead. I collected every Bronco sports card I could find, and every year that we went to Broncos training camp, I would study the roster, and I would remember the players, their stats, and their contributions to the team. I could watch football on lazy Sunday afternoons, no problem. I would do my homework during commercials, and try to stay focused as my family and I always had serious debates about the state of the Broncos.

I think I love football because it's a perfect combination of physical competition, as well as strategy. I like trying to understand the plays. I like the absolute talent that football breeds; some of the players are just incredible. But I like football, most of all, because even though the winner changes, crazy plays happen, different players emerge as great, and each play leads to the unknown, it also stays the same. I find the same joy in eating a hamburger while watching the game. I find joy just watching the game play out, trying to decipher what could happen next.

And I like being a fan.
I think being a fan is fun. It creates community, unity, and cohesiveness. And, I like that. I like wearing Orange and Blue, and telling people that God is a Bronco fan simply because when the sun sets, blues and oranges often compose much of the color palette. Why else would God use those colors ; ) ?

And, many people think I'm crazy. That I'm crazy Bronco fanatic.
And I wouldn't say that. Already, I have embraced the Jets due to the influence of my northern friends, and ultimately I recognize that really, football is just a game. Like field hockey, like soccer, it is just a game.

But I keep watching because it's fun.
And I do still throw the pigskin around. These days, I have different dreams and goals, but when I throw that ball I remember what it felt like when I was a little girl and I wanted to play in the NFL. It's a good reminder of how strong dreams are, and that even if your dreams do not come true, everything happens just how it is supposed to.