Tales From The Bleachers

So..we’ve entered into a whole new phase….I’m talking football, talking High School, I’m talking varsity, I’m talking CAMPS!  I’m talking RECRUTING…I am talking, this is serious biz.

So, I had the pleasure, no really – I was 100% up for this…of escorting my teen-age son to a football camp in beautiful San Diego.  Right?  Beautiful San Diego…I’m thinking spa day, beach reads, maybe even a cabana boy to bring me a cocktail while I wait for the call that camp is over and where are we dining tonight?  Ahhhh….the perfect weekend.  Wow – let me join those of you in-the-know with some out of control hysterical laughter.  Who’s the idiot? Who’s the naive, ignoramus who thinks high school football camps are NOT a full contact parent activity?  Answer: yeah, it’s me.

You, the parent, are expected to sit on a concrete bleacher during the camp and document their every move on film.  Better yet, get as close as possible and videotape the ENTIRE day’s activities. I mean, not sure if “expected” to, is the right turn of phrase, but evidently that is the drill as nearly every parent was equipped with a tripod, high-speed telephoto digital camera, or, of course, the iPad.  Parents, let’s be honest, nothing is more awesome than holding up a 6″ screen in a foot in front of your face for 5 hours in direct sun. Well, not if you’re from Texas anyway..again, EVIDENTLY.

By day two at 2 PM my ass was in such a state of numbness that I asked the trainer to asses the situation. (no this did not humiliate my son. Well, at least it did not humiliate him as much as my inability to throw a football when the parents were called down to get a taste of what their boys were working on…)

Okay YES I filmed my kid, YES my kid was the best and best looking on the field, YES the morning at the beach on Coronado was awesome, YES I did squeeze in a cocktail or two…but I digress.

I’m not sure how I drew this camp, as the boy and his dad will be attending a couple more this summer – and I have a sneaking suspicion that this was the most unique and really low-stress camp there is – but how did I get here? I’m talking Talking Head’s “how did I get here…”  What the hell is going on? College? Recruiting? One minute they’re peeing in their athletic cup in left field on a hot July day, and the next he’s hanging on the words “there is no reason you can’t play in the NFL” from a guy who actually knows something or two about that league.  Am I ready? Is he? But more importantly, do I have the right AV equipment? I clearly don’t have the right gear to camp out at a stadium for two straight days listening to other parents talk about how many offers they got, are getting or are expecting for their little all-star.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure my son got a lot out of this endeavor, not the least of which was that they have really great oysters at the Fish Market on the bay (tip: sit at the oyster bar and ask for Mannie)  Here’s what I learned

• My hand is too small to adequately throw a football
• I am afraid to catch a pigskin that is coming at me like a missile
• I need a better cooler that will fit in my luggage
• I need a cocktail that resembles Gatorade
• His dad should accompany him to all future camps, I’ll stick with baseball tournaments where I can rely on a simple red solo cup.