Nobody Can Stop Jen From Playing Football

I grew up playing football with the boys in my neighborhood almost every day. I also grew up with a perfect, tennis playing, 4.0, older sister. In sixth grade I realized that my new school had a flag football team. Awesome, right? I loved football completely, and immediately joined the team. I had a blast that year, scoring countless touchdowns, and several interceptions, but it wasn’t quite enough.

The next year I decided I wanted to take it up a notch. I emailed a few gym teachers, a few friends, and without telling my parents, acquired all the forms necessary to play youth football. My mom was insanely proud of me, and rushed to sign all the papers, and make me an appointment for a physical, so that I could get that form filled out as well.

My dad, however, was furious. I was supposed to be Perfect Daughter Number Two. I was to follow in my sister’s footsteps, playing tennis, and going off to some fancy college. As much as I love my sister, I decided at that moment that I wanted to be nothing like her.

I continued to play football throughout eighth grade, playing mostly as a defensive back, a wicked good one I might add.

This fall I’m going to be a freshman. I’ve only had two official football practices, no pads or anything, but I still love every minute of it. Once again, my mom signed the forms, determined to make me happy. The other night my dad said to me, “I don’t want you playing, but I’ll allow you to play this year, if you promise to never play again.” However, I shook my head. That promise would be much to hard to keep, and closed the front door behind me, once again on my way to practice.

I occasionally feel bad playing against my father’s will, but if he doesn’t want to support me, that’s his problem. I love it, so I’m playing. Nobody can stop me from getting in the end zone when I’ve already decided I’m going to score. And nobody can stop me from playing football.