Dear Kid,

Last night’s Battle of the Skies between the Aviators (yay) and the Comets was a rollercoaster of YAY-I’m-Going-To-Pass-Out-Yay-Arg-Yay!  Our freshman quarterback played very well although as his dad said, “He threw four touchdown passes. Too bad only two of them were to our team.”

After a very rocky start of 3 and outs and them starting strong but missing field goals, we scored (yay.) Then they scored. Tied at 7 all. Starting the 2^nd half, we scored on an interception and a recovered on-side kick. Woo Hoo! Out of nowhere, they scored twice (did I mention the interception thing?) and we were all tied at 21. (Arrrggg! How did that happen so fast?)

At fourth and 14 we call a time out for the Coaches to Discuss Options. Then we scored on a play that was clearly impossible according to the known laws of physics. Yay! When it was our turn again, we fumbled and recovered. Yay! Then we fumbled and forgot to recover. Whimper. They took advantage and scored. Whimper whimper. (It’s really amazing no one has asked me to be a professional sports writer.) Game tied at 28.

With 45 seconds left in the game, the last game of the season, the Battle of the Skies, the Rivalry of the Moment, Our Lads march down the field. Woo Hoo!!! Yeah Rah!!! Go Team!!! Only to get stopped, fourth and a LOT. But they have brilliantly (and intentionally) put the ball center field. Guess who gets tapped to kick the winning Field Goal? (Not me.) If you guess your sister, you are Most Correct. The coach lets the clock run down to 8 seconds (don’t ask me what is so magic about 8 seconds—I have no clue). The team gets ready, Pi trots out to kick (it would be about a 25 yard field goal, well within her range), the whistle blows, the snap is good, the ball is on the tee, the kick is….wide.

Stunned silence.

At least in my head.

Missing at that distance after 4 perfect PATs is very un-Pi-like.

Overtime.

We lose the toss so we start with the ball. We march straight through the Comets and score. (OK, it was a little more dramatic and difficult than that. I only lost about three years off my lifespan.) The PAT is textbook perfect.

Their turn. Our brilliant defense does its job. The Comets get a first down, but they have to work for it. Then it’s first and goal. AHHHHGGGGGGG! We stuff the QB and then on the next play we Take. The. Ball. Away.

Game over. We are victorious 35 to 28.

Chaos.

On the field.

Pandemonium. Also on the field. But in a good way.

We are jubilant. Several parents point out that Pi had the last score of the game anyway and that it was kind of her to let the seniors play just a little longer. I pretended to smile. Actually, I smiled and pretended to mean it. Glarb.

So the High School football season is over for us. I will no longer check the weather forecast for Friday nights on a daily basis. I will content myself with watching football games through the courtesy of a kind camera crew at a stadium someplace Not Particularly Close.

At least until next year.

Hope you’re having a good time in Columbus.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

First time under the lights as a Varsity player and Pi went 5 for 6 (nerves got to her on the first PAT) helping Sycamore to a 41 to 7 victory over Walnut Hills. At one point she went out for a PAT and the student section started chanting her name. That was cool. But not nearly as fun as her coming into the house and dancing around chanting “I started in a Varsity game.”

There was an incident (the school’s terminology) at the game when a railing gave way in the student section. Several kids were injured but my understanding is that none of the injuries were serious. It was very weird to see the entire student section sitting down. After a while they moved most of the students to different areas of the stadium.

As usual, Dad wandered rather than sitting with me during the game (although he spent the entire pregame with me, so that was nice). I ended up sitting with a family that recently moved here from the Netherlands. They had never seen a football game (American football). We had a really nice time together.

The team has their pre-game (and I assume all other) meetings in the team room as the locker room is problematic when there is more than one gender on the team. It’s a small-ish room and Pi was telling us how cool it was when the players all bellow “huuh” and the sound echos around the room.

Only when she said tried to grunt the “huuh” it sounded like a dying duck. Dad tried to teach her how to grunt like a boy properly.

“Huuh!”

“huuuhhhh?”

“Huuh!”

“Uuuuhhhhhhhoooooooooeeee”

“Like you mean it”

“Grrrr”

“Not grrrr. HUUUH!”

“Grruuuuhhhh…”

“No teeth. Just Huuh!”

Pi rolls her lips over her teeth like she has just taken out dentures. “ehhhhhhehhehehee hee hee hee.”

By now we are all laughing. Except Booker who was getting concerned that Something Wasn’t Right.

“Try bringing your arms down like you’re doing the chicken dance. Huuh!”

Flap, flap, flap. “Aaaaaooooooohhhh.”

“No, just once. Huuh.”

“Haaaaaaoooooh.” Then she fell off her chair because she was laughing so hard.

The girl can kick. But she can’t grunt. Yet.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Today is your last day of high school. I have no words. (You might want to make note of that.)

It’s weird. In some ways it’s an ending—no more classes. But in some ways, it isn’t quite. There are still senior events, still HS sports going on, and a little thing called Graduation. And you’ll be around for the summer.

In some ways it’s a beginning. I’m just not entirely sure what it is a beginning of. It isn’t quite a college beginning—that’s not for a couple of months. It’s not the beginning of a summer job—that doesn’t start yet.

It certainly doesn’t feel like the middle of anything. You’re not old enough for it to be the middle of your whole life.

So it’s weird. And I’m a little confused.

Here’s what I’m sure about.

You are a terrific kid. You are not the tallest child on the planet or the shortest or the smartest or the most athletic. But you are without a doubt the Best You possible. You are smart, and kind, and giving, and considerate, and responsible, and loving, and funny, and the list goes on and on. I am so, so proud of you and of everything you’ve accomplished so far.

Whether or not this is an end or a beginning or something else entirely, I can’t wait to share the next chapter of your life with you.

I couldn’t be more proud. You are the best and I love you very, very much.

Love, Mom