Yesterday, my boys played flag football. Their team, the Eagles, had made the playoffs. They had won their previous match and were now in the quarterfinals. If they won game one, they would play the second game later that day for the right to play in the championship game.
On the first series of the game, they called the "Statue of Liberty" play. It's a play that looks like a pass but ends up being a run. My older boy took the ball and proceeded to dash the length of the field for the opening touchdown. On the next play, their smallest player took the handoff and scooted into the end zone for the extra point.
As the game went on, it seemed that they had things in hand. They scored one more touchdown. Unfortunately, they started to run afoul of the referees. Two other scores were called back for mystifying penalties. You could see the tension rising. The coaches seemed to be especially irritated with the one-sided officiating (the fouls called on our team were never called on the other team despite what appeared to the bystander as similar play). Nevertheless, our team held a 13-6 advantage with less than a minute to play. Then came the bizarre finish. Somehow our opponents kept calling timeout. The next thing you knew, they had the ball again. What was supposed to be the last play ended up being the penultimate and then the prelude to the penultimate. On what was the actual last play in regulation, the other team finally managed to have their runner burst through the line and score another touchdown. This would mean that the extra point try would decide the game. Perhaps the fact that the Falcons were from Westwood (where we were playing) may have helped them a bit.
The Falcons decided to try for two points. If they made it, they would win. If not, we would. Ironically, they incurred a penalty that pushed them back five yards. That seemed to throw the kids off and the next play was a dud that went nowhere. We won thanks to that extra point scored by our tiniest guy.
The second game would be against the Seahawks. It started out as a shootout. On the first play of the game, they ripped off a huge gain. Two plays later, they were near our goal line. They scored an easy touchdown on the next play and tacked on an extra point for good measure. Fortunately, we were also able to score on our first play from scrimmage. Unfortunately, we did not make our extra point. The score at that point was 7-6.
This was the seventh game that I was at. In all the time that I had watched the Eagles, they had never trailed if both teams had equal possessions. The one game they lost in the regular season had been Columbus Day weekend when we were traveling to New Jersey.
In flag football, only six players are on the field for a side. The Eagles have enough boys to have two teams. Since their colors are green and white, they have one set for each color. My boys both play on the green team. It was now their turn to play. Again, they could not solve the Seahawk attack. They surrendered a touchdown. It was the first touchdown I had seen scored on the green team all season. That was probably because this was the best team they had faced up to this point.
When we got the ball back, we were able to score again using the same "Statue of Liberty" play. It was run in exactly the same way and it fooled the Seahawks. On the extra point attempt, they ended up short of the goal. The score was now 13-12.
On the sidelines, I noticed that my older boy was getting emotional. He had that look like he was about to burst into tears. I think he wanted to win so badly that it just started expressing itself as crazy frustration. I found it ironic that he had just scored a touchdown and the game was still extremely close.
As time went on, our inability to stop the Seahawks became apparent. They scored one more touchdown before halftime. We had a chance to score, but our runner who had broken clear thought the other team had pulled his flags and stopped to look at them and stepped out of bounds. Had he scored, it would have been a different game.
Our desperate situation called for desperate measures. We started out with a pass play. My boy was the quarterback. The pass went through the hands of our receiver and was intercepted. On the ensuing drive, they were down really close. On the last play before a turnover, my boy was the last line of defense. He got the flag, but the officials ruled the Seahawk was already in the end zone. That basically sealed the game. We would go on to throw another interception and lost 26-12.
My younger son doesn't get emotional about these things because he isn't really a sports fan. My older boy was devastated. He had wanted to win so badly. I found myself telling him that he had done his best but that the team they played was just better. There was no shame in losing. Still, it took about 15 minutes for him to move on to the next event. We were off to see a stage version of "The Hobbit." This would be his first real theater experience, so that excitement displaced his disappointment.
I think kids can be incredibly resilient. Everything seems to mean just a little bit more to them. Even their most excruciating pain seems to dissipate rapidly. There is a lesson in there for all of us.
I am already looking forward to the third place game next week.
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