Giving the green light to my daughter to play tackle football was definitely a tough decision. There will be people on both sides of the decision for sure, as a reader you probably think it’s either a good idea or not such a good idea. I understand whichever side you’re on because throughout the process I’ve been on both sides. There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night and my mind starts going crazy about various things, this isn’t uncommon, however sometimes one of those things that I’m thinking about is now my daughter playing football. For a couple of years we placated her desire to do so by getting her into flag football, which is a great game by the way. I coached her for her first couple of seasons. This was my wife and I’s way of making sure, “nothing too bad would happen to her”, and quite frankly I think we were more worried about the things that might be said to her as opposed to anything that could physically happen to her.
Her last season in flag she decided that she wanted to, very kindly, tell me that she thought it might be best if I didn’t coach her. I was both heartbroken and relieved to some extent. Relieved because I’m not great at coaching, I tend to stand in my kid’s shoes and get nervous and anxious just being a part of the process as if I’m the one playing…but worse somehow. I ended up coaching my son’s team instead, so I still had to muscle through my own issues.
My daughter had determined that I was “too soft” on her while coaching her, which is funny because I thought I was actually quite hard on her and would frequently expect her to be the example for the team. Whatever she meant by my being too soft or her feeling that she needed to be coached by someone else ended up being correct I have to, and hate to, admit. She ended up on a team coached by a nice college aged fella with a bunch of kids (boys) she didn’t know. As background, there are other girls in the flag football league, and luckily the two seasons I coached I had my daughter and, while both different, one other cool little lady on each team. Her last season it was just her and the boys, and she worked her butt off, and throughout the season gained the confidence of her coaches and even the boys on her team. I watched from the stands as she kept her head in games and made catches, frequently leading the offense down the field. I watched her make an interception and run it back down field. Somehow she had realized that she needed to branch out on her own as it pertained to this passion of hers, and she was correct. My wife and I sat in awe of her and her improvements and accomplishments, frequently jumping to our feet and me coaching out loud to absolutely no one much to my wife’s dismay. To be fair, my wife and I being in awe of my daughter is not entirely unfamiliar territory, but somehow this was a bit different as this was football, and football without my watchful eye as coach.
As she finished her season as a key team player, even capturing the Player of the Week award, we knew that fall was coming, and along with it the tackle football season. Given her progress and continued desire to play my wife and I did our research. We talked to administrators and coaches and everyone that we could that had a useful experienced perspective on such a decision. What we came up with was a lot of support, a lot of positive feedback and excitement and a decision to give it a go.
We spoke with our daughter and shared with her some of the hard truths related to such a decision. Some of these areas we had already been over three seasons prior when we made the decision that she would play flag football. It’s unfortunate when you find yourself playing into the reality of things and having a conversation with your daughter as her coach and her father and telling her, essentially, that if the boys throw her the ball, and it’s already going to be a challenge to get to that point (don’t get me wrong, as I told her, and as the coach of the team, if my QB doesn’t throw the ball to an open receiver and clearly saw them then I’ll be dealing with that QB and they won’t be QB much longer), and if she happens to drop the ball, a very acceptable outcome as perfection does not exist, then it is the equivalent of her dropping the ball ten times. This is a tough thing to realize and unfortunately is a truth that exists no matter how you try to coach through it via focus on teamwork and pointing out that absolutely no one is perfect. We told her, this is going to be the toughest thing you’ve ever done and once you decide to do it then we’re doing it. She was all in. She understood and she agreed. We signed her up and I have another reason to sleep less than the number of hours all those really smart people and researchers say you should sleep.
I’m still not entirely sure exactly why my daughter wants to play football other than I think she enjoys it and has developed skills related to it. I’m still searching for the right time and approach to ask the question, “Why do you want to do this?” At times I feared that the answer might be, “Well Dad, because you like football.”, but I don’t think that’s it anymore. My wife and I read with the kids every night when we put them to bed and my daughter typically has a book she’s reading with me and a book she’s reading with my wife as we’ll take turns between her and my boys. Admittedly, and it was her choice, one of those books that she and I read together was Triple Threat by Mike Lupica, which is a great book that tells the story of a middle school girl that loves football and tries out for the team. My daughter’s interest in football already existed and she actually picked this book out at a book fair because of it. It provided an honest perspective on the scenario of a girl entering this boys world, and it truly is that, a boys world.
As part of the process for the upcoming football season the league held a four day clinic for all players and all ages grades one through six. So on the first day of clinics my daughter and I headed out to her first foray into this world. There was not doubt that I wasn’t going to miss being there on this first day. My wife and I wondered if maybe our daughter would not want me there (I mean she already knew I was a terrible coach), but luckily she embraced the idea. We were both extremely nervous…I mean excited.
On the drive there one of my favorite all time songs, It’s My Life by Bon Jovi, came on. We were in my convertible, wind blowing through our hair (well, blowing over and around my head and through my daughter’s hair) and I turned the song way up. Midway through the song I turned it down and said, “This is a great song for your first practice”, and she said, “Yeah, I know.” We turned it back up and jammed along. I could see my daughter’s foot tapping along in the back seat and I think she was really taking it in and applying it to what was currently happening. When the song was over I muted the radio and said, here’s some great lyrics from that song going into your practice:
Don’t bend
Don’t break
Don’t back down
She agreed and I felt like she had already made that connection before I even said anything. I think it helped us both calm our nerves a bit as we neared the field for that first practice.
The clinic was taking place at the local high school football field. I ended up parking on the opposite side of the field from where we were supposed to enter and check in, which wasn’t a big deal as we would just walk over to the other side to get her signed in. However, as we entered the field we were walking up and there was a sign representing the high school and the field that we had to walk by. I looked up and admittedly did a serious double take when I saw that the sign said:
Don’t Bend
Don’t Break
Don’t Back Down
I gave my daughter a slight elbow nudge and said, “How crazy is that?” She smiled and said, “Yeah!” I’m not a huge believer in some ultimate being that is delivering us signs from above that either tell us what to do or justify what we’re doing. However, I’m not one to say it’s all total BS either. I guess maybe I’m just not one to go looking for these things, but this one slapped us right in the face.
We went in and got her signed in. I told her, as I walked away, that at any time during the clinic if she felt alone or needed a boost of support that she could look into the stands where I would be sitting and she would know that I was there for her and she was not alone and that I believed in her. I put my fist out for a fist bump and said, “No matter what happens I’m already extremely proud of you right now.” She gave me a fist bump back, walked away and then turned back and gave me a thumbs up.
I sat in some degree of agony as I watched her sort of standing alone as more players and their parents showed up and boys started to assemble into various groups. I almost got up to go stand by her but I withheld the urge. I also watched as name tags were given out and consideration that this girl standing amongst the boys was a player didn’t even cross anyone’s mind. She eventually got her name tag, I think she was literally last, and joined the group of boys, I would say kids but it was literally all boys, she was the only girl amongst almost 100 boys.
I watched my daughter go out onto a turf high school football field amongst 100+ male players and coaches and not flinch. She participated in tackling drills having never even contemplated the idea of a tackle. She took direction, she adjusted, she came back for more. She stepped up, she leaned in, she did whatever the hell it is you do when you have a passion for something and you won’t let anyone tell you no, you can’t do that. She caught every pass that was thrown to her. I want to make this clear because I watched every second of her practice, and afterwords she would confirm, she caught Every. Single. One.
I didn’t know a human being could hold their breath for an hour and a half, but having now done it I can tell you that it can be done. To say I was inspired and nervous and proud and scared and amazed and happily living in my girl’s world would all be accurate reflections, but these are merely words to explain a situation that for me is beyond words. I obtained a feeling that I’m sure more experienced parents would be better able to explain, but it’s a feeling that continues to shift my perspective from the selfish nature of life prior to having kids to a feeling I can only explain as, “The world is hers.”
She didn’t bend
She didn’t break
She didn’t back down
And at no time did I think she would…
I heard and saw everything through the ears and eyes of my daughter so the numerous times I heard, “Ok men”, or “Gather up boys”, or “Alright fellas”, I cringed a bit. After the clinic that evening this was the one thing that she mentioned to me and my response was, “I totally understand, I heard it too, but when one of the coaches says, ‘Ok, take a knee men’, you should still take a knee.” I didn’t mean that she should just fold in and disappear or not be properly acknowledged and represented, but what I did express was that this entire organization and process is used to those types of broad gender generalizations making sense and that this is a class act organization and sometimes you have to give folks a little breathing room. We frequently want to kill each other with political correctness and sometimes we just need to give each other a break and give it all time to set in.
My daughter is the only girl on this field, and she’s getting it done!
I will guarantee that by the end of the season there will be a shift, maybe not of everyone, maybe not every single time, but there will be a shift and at some point a coach or a player is going to say, “Gather up boys…and girl”, or “Ok men….and woman”. And that is change, and the world needs people to lead change. The world, like me, needs my daughter, and it’s tough as hell to give her.