Finding Faith ... in an ol' dog learning a valuable lesson

Our son, Carter, played in his first football game of his senior year on Friday.

Turns out us old dogs can still learn some valuable lessons.

I coach the kids all the time that rather than stew about something, feeling helpless and angry over the outcome of something, it's important to talk about the issue with whomever may have some answers for you. ... I'm sure that the kids probably would like to stuff the sentence "Use your words." in my craw by now.

And they probably should have been saying that to me for weeks now in regard to my feelings over how Minnesota and our schools handled the stopping and restarting of the high school football season.

As you may know, we have a senior who is participating on our local high school football team, and the weeks and months leading up to the season have been a roller coaster. We went most of the summer without knowing whether the boys were going to have a fall season to learning in August that they would instead have a spring season to learning in September that they would have a fall season but without state playoffs and with limited fan participation.

So full disclosure: I was firmly in the camp of pushing the season off until spring, which might give us some hope that the pandemic might be better under control and there might be a chance at having a state playoff picture. Selfishly, this was important to me because our kids' team is loaded with talent, coming off a state tournament appearance last year, and were projected to be a state champion contender this year. And having a fall season with no state playoffs decimated that possibility.

I realize in the grand scheme of things, worrying about whether high school football teams could have state playoffs is a small matter. There are a million people who have died from the pandemic, after all. But, to understand our angst, you must know that last year's football season didn't not play out the way our son had wanted it to, ending with great personal disappointment. And so in the offseason, he worked his tail off to change this season's outcome, earning the starting right offensive tackle position, a highly coveted position among lineman. And so we were jazzed about what this year might bring for him after all of his hard work.

And then we took a ride on the pandemic rollercoaster. Are we having a season? No. Are we having a spring season? Yes. Oh wait, we are having a fall season? Yes. But there will be no state playoffs? Correct. And only limited fans, sometimes meaning that even step-parents won't be able to attend? Yes. ... Oy.

So all of that was the build up to last Friday morning, when I reported to the high school to pick up a couple of extra tickets to that night's game, the first of the strange new season for our boys. Originally, each of the traveling players were granted two tickets ... and only two tickets, meaning that in our case, only myself and Carter's mother would have been able to attend the game. But after they received all the requests from the players, it turned out there were some extra tickets because of some players not picking any up. So I requested a couple of more tickets and went to pick them up.

Coincidentally, the school's activities director was at the Activities office when I arrived, and from having kids playing sports there for the past 10 years or so, we know each other. So he stepped out of the office to say hello.

We talked pleasantries for a while, and then we got to talking about the strange season that we are in -- both in high school athletics and generally in life. I finally admitted that while I had been in favor of pushing the football season off to the spring for many reasons, I thanked him and the coaches for getting the boys ready to play out whatever this season was going to bring. I, however, saved some of the less kind things I had uttered regarding the decision-making process from the beginning. I finished by stating that I most lamented the opportunity for the boys to play for a state championship by not waiting until spring, finally revealing some of my embarrassingly true motivation.

"Oh, well wait a minute, Devlyn" the activities director said. "What you have to understand is that state playoffs were a no-go any way we sliced it. They were just not going to happen."

The AD went on to explain that the state high school league wasn't ever going to approve state playoffs for football whether the games were played with a late start in the fall or held off until spring because none of the other fall sports that never were postponed -- soccer, golf, cross-country, etc. -- were granted state playoffs this year. Earlier in August, when the state high school league made the decision to postpone football and volleyball, but let the other more individual-oriented sports go ahead, they cut the state tournaments to those sports in the interests of health and safety. ... So, he enlightened me, even if football was moved and played in the spring, there never was going to be a state playoff this season, regardless. So that is why so many coaches pushed to just play out the season now. "It was totally about a fairness issue," the AD said. "If the high school league would have granted football a state playoff system, all of the other sports would have wanted to play in the spring too. It would have been a huge mess."

And in that moment, while I didn't like his answer, I better understood the complexity of the decisions that the state high school league, activities directors and coaches were dealing with. What had seemed such a simple set of circumstances were much more difficult than I imagined, and having been involved in running large, complex systems and teams at work for years and years, I should have known better. But I had let my emotions over our son's senior year of football being "ruined" color my rationality. I needed to be set straight, and that's exactly what the AD did for me that morning.

"Besides," he finally reminded me, "there are seniors on those spring sports last year that never got to lace up. Not even for one practice."

Bang ... right on the forehead.

After I had that personal epiphany of how petty I was being, we went on to have a very educating conversation about all of the factors that had been playing into the state high school league's decisions, and about how the local schools were acting based on the parameters set for them. He graciously gave me 20 minutes of his time even though he is a busy professional, and I'm sure had far more important things to be doing than sharing the ins and outs of the state high school league's decision-making process with a self-centered, emotional dad of a senior football player.

Later that morning, I texted Shelley to say that I had had a conversation with the AD, and I learned me lesson again that rather than stewing about this whole process for weeks and weeks, I should have just picked up the phone and called the school. After all, the AD and I know each other well enough that he would have spent the time to educate me long before last Friday. Rather, I chose to do the least proactive thing I could: Stew about the decisions out of my control and blame people for the decisions made without knowing all of the factors.

It was a humbling experience. I am embarrassed about the whole thing. But luckily for me that the conversation happened in time for me to begin focusing on what is truly important this football season: Our son has a chance to play his senior year with his buddies despite all of the unknowns. And for that, I should be happy.

I'll tell you what: It certainly made me much more appreciative of the game that night, and it taught be again that this ol' dog can learn new tricks, as well as humbled me into reminding myself to: Use my words.