Football

Alex and I both love sports.  So it should come as no surprise that a lot of our recreation is center not only in the spectating of competitions we have previously written about but also in participating.  Now often that means just Alex and I playing with one another but that doesn’t mean a pedestrian outing by any means.  Our house is strategically placed between two practice football fields, basketball and tennis courts, and two blocks from the track and football field.  When the various youth teams aren’t hogging the practice fields we can have quite a good time tossing the pigskin around.  Our outings slinging the ball back and forth, rarely could be called catch.  In my mind I am Peyton Manning or Jerry Rice and as such attention to form, concise route running, and a cerebral outlook on football schemes play an integral role in that time.  I have had my dear Alex run out routes, told her to imagine looking off the safety in cover 2, and asked her to hit me in stride when I run a go route.   While my dear Alex is a rather accurate quarterback she lacks the arm strength to throw the ball farther than 15 yards and because of this my corner, out and up, and wheel routes start 10 yards behind her.

It could perhaps be argued that a sort of intensity would diminish the relaxation factor in the R&R this activity is meant to give.  However, for at least myself and hopefully for my dear Alex, this sort of intensity is something that we have been bring to our dates for years.   Besides a previous tale about my pre-med roommate suggesting I premedicate with pain killers before going on dates with Alex, we also went on a 15 mile hike (note from Alex- it was actually 13 miles, when Arthur tells this story the hike just gets longer and longer) through a park in Kansas City.  We just both really enjoy being active.  And frankly, due to the sedentary lifestyle that college brought Arthur there is a bit of excess Arthur that needs worked off.  Running is a lot more fun when you get to catch a football.

 

Alex’s perspective:  I always enjoy a good game of catch during the fall.  I believe it was also my idea to register for a football on our wedding registery—at least I will take credit for it.  We played football quite a bit as a kid and I have worked as an athletic trainer with a college and high school football team so I have been around the sport quite a bit and have a working knowledge of the game as a spectator.  Playing “catch” with Arthur has exposed my lack of on-the-field knowledge.  He calls out routes and I have to stop him and ask him to explain exactly where he wants the ball thrown.  Of course he doesn’t run the same route more than once or twice so I can learn what the jargon means.  I would say I am an alright quarterback for a girl.  I was QB for our mighty intramural football team—our offense was more of a run game though.  I can throw a decent spiral and occasionally am pretty accurate.  I haven’t mastered the 5 step drop that Arthur is trying to teach me yet but maybe someday.  The other day he ran a route that required me to fake a pass and then hit him farther down the field.  I faked both of us out because somehow the ball got away from me on the pass fake and I had to run and grab it before I could do the actual pass.

 

Other times I am the receiver.  Arthur has had to tone down his passes if he wants me to attempt to catch them.  There may have been a few times a pass was coming in fast that I just duck and run away like a coward but I am okay with that.  Arthur has also learned when sending me out on a route he has to account for the fact that I am slower than he thinks.  I was a cross country runner so my 15 yard sprint down the field doesn’t really give me the chance to switch into a higher gear which results in a lot of over-thrown passes.  I do think Arthur does appreciate that I will toss the pigskin around which is an important wifely quality for him even if I still don’t have a clue what to do about a zone blitz.  Omnia Vincit Amor.