I Said A Silent Prayer Begging For A Happy Ending

2009 Friday Night Lights- Week 4
B has been an absolute delightful child lately. We have talked about how you have to do your part on the field as well as off the field as a son of God and a respectful family member in order for the Lord to work miracles through you. I know he is hoping for the opportunity to represent the Lord in miracle form.-- (Who wouldn’t?) I am seeing him try very hard to do his “part”.
Tonight is Homecoming- bringing with it- a magical anticipation. After all, there are princesses in the crowd. Our competition this evening brags itself as the number one offense/team in the league. This may account for all of the juggling on defense in practice this week, as well as the coach’s frustration of B’s shoulder injury (an apparent stinger from last week’s game).
I arrived at the stadium a half an hour early to claim seats for the friends and family we were expecting. I laid out my blankets, jackets and stadium cushion to claim some space. Then I heard “Mrs. C! Mrs. C!” It was an assistant coach calling me from just outside the tunnel where the team had just retreated to after their warm up. He told me B had reinjured his shoulder in warm-ups, but had clearance to play. He was in pain, and no staff is authorized to give him meds, only a parent. So it was a call for some Advil. Refilling my travel tube had been on my list of things to do, but never made it to the top. I scanned the sparse crowd for someone I knew… nothing, or rather no one. I sprinted up the hill toward my car, hoping to find someone I knew along the way. I was rescued by a vice-principal at our school-who has always looked out for us. I sprinted back down, gave the Advil to the trainer, and sat in my seat. I was still alone at this point. H was picking up an elderly gentleman from our church who wanted to come to the game. No one else had arrived. My eyes filled with tears. Other people’s children were supposed to get hurt—not mine!
I said a silent prayer as I watched him line up with his team during the National Anthem, begging for a happy ending. Early in the second quarter, he received a pass well, and then the QB looked for him again on the next play. That pass was almost intercepted. The next play, we attempted a run and while blocking, the shoulder gave again. Our team shuffled into the locker room at half time down 14 to nothing.
We endured the half-time band show which is almost as bad as our defense. --I can say that tonight because B didn’t play! Then the princesses paraded around until we were put out of our misery by the team sprinting through the tunnel back out onto the field. I watched number by number come out, ready to cheer on #21. I was utterly devastated as he walked out with his pads off, alongside the other injured players, a big bag of ice strapped to his shoulder.
I sat emotionless in my seat the remainder of the half.
After the game, I met with the trainer, team doctor, and physical therapist. All agree they think and hope it is probably just a stinger, but since it’s the second one in a week, B now has to have x-rays and an MRI prior to being cleared to continue to play. I felt so bad that this was happening to him his senior year. The offense is weak. The safety coach is psycho, and now he is hurt. Really?!!?
I waited for him to emerge from the locker room, making sure he was okay to drive. He was almost the last one out, he looked bummed. As I saw him walking toward me, I noticed his hands were full. In one hand he held his car keys and copies of the previous games (a birthday present for Grandpa—shhh. Don’t tell) In the other hand, he clutched his scriptures. He didn’t explain why he had them, and I didn’t ask. But I’m beginning to think the happy ending I prayed for may not be measured in touchdown passes. . .
To be continued. . .