December 16th, 2007. I still have the images in my head as if it were yesterday. My family and I were all gathered at my grandmother’s house to celebrate my cousin’s birthday. Christmas was approaching and the festive spirit was in the air. As a 7-year-old, the thought of an upcoming Christmas break, being surrounded by a loving family, and spending time with your cousins brought so much joy to my young heart.
Grandma’s basement was the prime place to be as a youngster. My cousins and I had everything down there; a PlayStation 2, mini-hockey sticks, a mini-football; anything young kids would have fun with and let their imaginations run wild with. Although I wasn’t a big fan of sports at the time, I would be introduced to obe that every day that would open my mind to the beauty of organized athletics.
After exhausting our brains on the Playstation 2, my cousins and I opened the T.V to a channel that was showing the Buccaneer’s take on the Atlanta Falcons. The quality of the television was grainy, and we could barely see some of the player’s faces, but we didn’t care, we we’re just happy to be together taking the game in.
The Buccaneers quarterback at the time was Jeff Garcia, who my older cousin had assured was a solid quarterback. I was mesmerized by the aerial passes being made, the acrobatic catches, and some of the defensive tackles that were occurring before my very eyes. Just watching the game made me want to burst out into a starting formation and run one to the house.
I don’t remember the score of that game, or exactly what happened, but I do remember the way it made me feel, and the immediate effect it had on me.
They say that you know you have found a passion when the thought of doing it energizes you. That is exactly what happened after watching that game in my grandmother’s basement. For the remaining weeks of the NFL season, my eyes were glued to the T.V every Sunday. At school, I would be thinking about going home and watching NFL videos online when I should have been focusing on my studies.
The love for football consumed me, but I didn’t mind. In my eyes there is nothing wrong with being obsessed by a passion, it just means you love it that much. Football would go on to become a huge part of my life. Although I would not go on and play it in school or for the city, any chance I got to join a pick-up game at the park or at school was taken.
There’s something about catching the ball and running against the wind, trying to evade tacklers that feel really liberating. Getting to the endzone is a euphoric experience, one that will always stay with me.
The feeling we get when we play sports is so enjoyable because it brings us back to when we were children when times were much simpler. I guess that’s why I’ve fallen in love with the sport so much more over the past couple of years; because it reminds me of my childhood.
What are some of your earliest sports memories? Let me know in the comments below:)