Mostly I hate championship games.
When I was younger I was super competitive and winning was everything, but as I've gotten older, I've mellowed quite a bit. Not completely though.
Last Saturday Sport's football team played in the championship game. They had won 10 straight games and they had already beaten the team they were playing. He was nervous and understandably so. He and his team had worked so hard for this moment and even though the championship wasn't all that important to me, it was to him. And for that reason, I wanted his team to win.
The game started all the way across the valley at 9:00 am, but they had to be there at 8:00 for warmups which meant we climbed into the van just after 7:00. It was a beautiful day for football! I took a nap in the van until just before the game started.
The game itself was brutal with each team fighting for field position. At one point our quarterback was crying on the sidelines and they brought in the medical team to make sure his arm wasn't broken. It wasn't. Two plays later he was back in the game. I heard his dad tell him to suck it up and that his team needed him.
These boys are 11 years old.
By the final second, the score was still tied, 0 - 0, and that meant overtime.
Riverton went first and our boys managed to stop them on all four plays. Then Bingham advanced it to the 6" line, but the officials said one of the boys moved and we were given a 5-yard penalty. The first overtime passed without a score. So did the second overtime.
Riverton went first again in the 3rd overtime and they managed to push it over the line. Our boys stopped the extra point, but the damage was done and even though they were given the opportunity to score, it didn't happen and the trophies and bragging rights went to Riverton this time.
The boys were crushed, of course. Such a devastating loss! The coaches called it a win and said it was taken from us by the bad call from the official. But that didn't change the score. And on that day, it didn't matter. Every boy shed a tear or two, even my big strong center. The giant donuts didn't earn a smile. Their football dreams of being champions were crashing around them.
It's only a game! My heart cried to my son, but his was broken.
And he's only 11 years old.
That's why I hate championship games.