It was Homecoming in our little town Friday night. As the football game got ready to start I was up on the ridge ready to film my son Isaiah, a Junior running back/linebacker.
The Hunter's Moon shone over the sagebrush behind me. It was a beautiful October night.
Then the game started and things went from bad to worse for us. We--the big Tigers--couldn't move the ball, and the other team--the little Jack Rabbits--scampered up and down the field racking up points. By the fourth quarter they had a big lead, and we were being shut out.
All this time Isaiah hadn't played a lick. That was unusual. There are two Senior running backs ahead of him, so he typically doesn't get a lot of time on offense, but he's usually out there for defense.
I don't know exactly what was going on, but I do know he's been angry at his coaches because they want more from him than he's been giving. So I wondered what had happened this week to make them sit him for the Homecoming game.
Meanwhile, up there on the hill, I was taking lots of photos of the moon and letting my mind wander. So I almost didn't notice when Isaiah came into the game late in the fourth quarter. On offense.
One of the Senior running backs had made a nice long run setting us up on the thirty yard line. Now Isaiah lined up beside him, got three handoffs in a row, and ran it in for our only score of the game. It was the best I'd seen him play all year.
I guess he feels like he has something to prove to those coaches. I'm eager to see him do it. And I bet they are, too.
It's an awesome thing to watch a son growing up. Nice job, I.