As a parent, nothing’s more important to me than my child’s health and well-being. So when a fellow PTA mom asked me earlier this fall when my son was going to go out for the football team, I was aghast. Tackle football? Are you kidding me? Not for my son, no way. I won’t let him play football because I don’t want him ending up in a bisexual love triangle with the head cheerleader and the team captain.
I get why high school football has been popular for so long, I do. The tradition. The excitement. The passion. The bonding with the chiseled, brooding teammate. But we can’t bury our heads in the sand and pretend the facts aren’t plain and clear: My son and the North Valley High starting quarterback have undeniable chemistry. And while a little competition’s healthy, what happens when they’re both going after the same girl, while at the same time navigating the confusing and increasingly difficult-to-ignore feelings they have for each other?
A young, developing brain can’t withstand that level of drama and jealousy.
Let’s be real. Football is a contact sport. That means the athletes are constantly colliding with each other at high speeds, crashing, blocking, sacking, grabbing, squeezing, and yearning. Every day they spend hours together running these drills, helmet to helmet and cheek to cheek, staring into each other’s dazzling dark eyes and breathing in the scent of each other’s animal musk. And all of this under the watchful gaze of Brianna Peters, waving her pom-poms from the sidelines and scheming about a way to trick them into kissing.
It might seem like wholesome, all-American activity until you look out from the bleachers six weeks later and realize with horror you’ve plunged the child you’re meant to protect into the middle of an erotic psychosexual throuple.
I’m horrified to think of my poor baby, barely able to walk, wincing and limping into the house because he thrusted too much.
Are there rules to protect football players? Sure, but there’s nothing to prevent them from kissing on the field after a touchdown. And even if they do try to be careful, what about the locker room, the bus, an ice bath, the bleachers? I can’t bear the thought of seeing my son come home from practice every day covered in hickeys.
If my son wants to play a sport, he can choose something sexless, like cross country.
I know that some football parents will say I’m completely overreacting. Their son plays football, and he’s perfectly fine. He loves it! He’s healthy! He’s a 0 on the Kinsey scale! A 1 at most! Yeah. For now. That’s the thing about football. One incident is all it takes. One moment he’s fine, and the next, bam! He’s dropping his pants and getting into the hot tub nude between starting quarterback Ethan Carter and Brianna after she triple-dog-dares him. Pretty soon, she’s kneeling down and taking both of their penises into her soft, warm mouth at the same time. Then the next thing you know, you’re standing in the emergency room sobbing as a doctor somberly explains that, well, she chomped down really, really, really, really hard.
Does that sound safe to you? Because it doesn’t sound safe to me.
So those are the facts about football. And even if your child turns out to be one of the lucky ones who gets through high school without any problems, just you wait. I mean, look what happened to O.J. Simpson.
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