Fun fact, I give up on myself to help others out. Often, I say yes even when I don’t want to. If I’m in desperate need of alone time but you need a friend I’ll cancel on myself to be there for you. Do you need milk or a play date (?) consider my workouts or yoga time skipped because you come first, before me, always.
It’s a terrible habit that I can’t seem to break. Because of said habit, I’m reading this book about setting boundaries. I purchased the book at a yoga retreat where I realized saying no to things I don’t want to do means saying yes to me. It’s been over a year since that yoga retreat annnndddd I broke up with myself about a week after returning.
(Insert head shaking here…)
Because you can’t pour from an empty cup, I am bound and determined to put me first! I’ve been waking up early EVERY morning, making my coffee, reading this book and when I close my meditation practice I make a silent promise to myself that I will commit to me first.
I’m a week in and I feel great, until tonight…
After work I raced to pick up my boys and bring them to the big ones football game. Luckily most of the parents were in their cars prepping for the game which gave me viewing advantage on the field. I chose what looked like the 50 yard line, even after the little one said I need to move over to the next yard line (turns out he was right), I set up my chair, cracked open my sparkling water and settled in to a great night.
The parents started coming in like herded cattle, everyone trying to stay a little social distanced to not cancel the rest of the season. We were all on one side of the field the coaches and players on the other. There were two to three rows deep of fans for the fifth grade game. The energy was infectious on a perfect fall night.
And then it happened.
Completely catching me off guard.
A dad, who in my defense looked like an average dad, took one look at comfortable me and said, “I’m looking for volunteers to hold the chains, would you like to?”
“Sure!”
FFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK…..
Wasn’t that EXACTLY what I was in training of saying NO to?! I was perfectly cozy just watching.
A weeks worth of training down the freaking tubes. In hindsight, I feel like I fell off the the wagon and I have to return my one week chip and start over tomorrow.
And THAT’s not even the worst part.
The dad was able to find two dudes to hold the chains so he assigned me the down marker stick.
Now, I come from a football family. My mother is a DIEHARD Vikings fan, so much so, that she painted one of their bathrooms purple and gold and hung the Three Deep Vikings poster along with a team poster in this bathroom. I understand downs and the basics and thought it might be fun to get the volunteering out of the way for the season.
What I didn’t understand is how serious these referees take fifth grade football.
Fifth grade football…not the pros.
The kind of football, where they don’t punt the ball. They don’t kick field goals. They don’t even do any sort of kickoff. It’s six points for a touchdown, you get an extra point if you run it in the end zone after the touchdown and two points if you pass it and it’s caught in the end zone. The ball is then brought out to the 40 yard line (again no kicking) and the other team starts on down one. You HAVE to go for it on the fourth down and if it’s not successful, it’s a turn over on downs.
I mean the basic plays are run left, run right, run up the middle and the ever so rare pass.
Little did I know the intensity of holding the downs stick. The chain dudes had it easy and I think they knew it. Pretty sure that average dad saw the sucker in me and BOY did I learn my lesson.
The Refs yelled at me 27 times, no joke,
IN
ONE
GAME
And I wasn’t even playing! I almost didn’t want to cheer for my sons team in case they started calling penalties on ME!
It was so bad the parents on the OTHER team were asking me if I was going to get talked to, to which I did get talked to every single time.
You’re probably wondering what could they possibly have had a problem with especially for a VOLUNTEER.
I’ll tell you.
First the downs stick wasn’t at the toe of the ball. It looked like it from where I was standing but apparently I was off by inches a LOT. I’m not sure why it mattered so much for me because I was under the impression it was more of a chains deal but seemingly not. Never once did I get the stick placement right the ENTIRE game.
Now, I will agree that I should have stayed put when the play started but Henry had such a good run, I couldn’t help but want to chase him down the sidelines to cheer him on. It only took them two times to tell me to stay put before it sunk in.
Second MAJOR problem… I pissed off the main ref because once the play was done I flipped the number. They did NOT like that at ALL. If the play is done, it goes to the next down but those guys like to be in control of the signaling to flip the numbers AND don’t even THINK about doing it before you get to the placement of the ball, because they REALLY freak out then.
So I did what anyone would do, I marched with the down stick to the placement of the ball and I chanted, “DON’T FLIP THE NUMBERS UNTIL THEY PLACE THE BALL!” On repeat until I was where I was supposed to be.
Around the 20th time of being talked to I reminded the ref closest to me that I was a volunteer and had not been through their training camp he then became a big help. He kept pointing and signaling which direction I needed to move the stick. When his co-workers threw a flag and I asked him if he had the inside scoop but he said he couldn’t dish until the penalty was called.
And just so you know, I am hardly popular. I mean, my phone NEVER rings. But it would just so happen I was popular tonight and that definitely made the crowd giggle and the referees shake their head.
The game wasn’t even close. The Forest Lake Raptors slaughtered the North Branch Vikings much like the Green Bay Packers slaughtered the Minnesota Vikings last weekend. Our boys didn’t even give up one score.
And I haven’t ever felt so relieved to hear the end whistle.
I’m not going to lie.
When the ref that took pity on me told me the game was done and I could leave, I dropped that bitch like it was a mic. Even the parents of the loosing team cheered for me.
I’d like to think I learned my lesson the hard way and boundaries are now set in solid stone, but I know that’s probably not likely. The good news is, I feel like an expert at the downs stick and some of the parents said the pros might even send a scout for me!