The time has come.

Every father has certain things in their life that they must face. Regardless of how one tries to prepare, there are things that cannot be prepared for. I knew that this day was coming and had years to get ready, but I couldn't. Tonight is the end of an era in my house. My last son, John, plays in his last football game. I've heard many say "it's just a game". That is a matter of opinion. If anything, it is the game of life. You compete, you dedicate youself to something bigger than yourself, you sweat, you bleed, you learn to win and you learn to lose, but most of all, you learn to persevere. I have had the priveledge of watching each of my sons turn from boys into young men on the football field. Football is a place for a son to put his accomplishments on display for his mom and dad. Does that mean that your son has to be a starter for you to be proud of him? Hardly. What matters is that he knows, when the last lights are turned off and the last padlock is put on the chainlink gates to the field, that his mom and dad love him and are so proud of him that they could burst. And thirty years from now, when no one knows whether he played one down, or every down, he will fondly remember those cold El Paso nights. Way back then,when the band played and smell of popcorn was wafting on the breeze, and he will smile. Congratulations to all those who persevered!