Here’s to months of preparation that started long before the stadium lights clicked on.
Here’s to early morning workouts in the blazing summer heat topped off by sprints and an Ice-Pop.
Here’s to snack bags adorned with curly ribbons, stuffed full of Cheez-Its and BodyArmour and notes from the kids so we’re not forgotten on long bus rides to The Middle of Nowhere, USA.
Here’s to kids growing up at the field house, eating takeout in the bleachers on a Tuesday, and stealing hugs between whistle blows.
Here’s to putting them to bed early (too early?), praying for daddy and his players and promising he’ll be home soon (too soon?).
Here’s to binge-watching Bravo and watching his location so we can do a mad-dash-cleanup just before he drags his bones through the back door long after dark.
Here’s to “How do they look?” and “You think we can win?” and falling asleep on the couch before he can answer the questions.
Here’s to waking up on game days with butterflies in our tummies and hope in our hearts, keeping our minds busy and trying not to obsess and overthink and wonder.
Here’s to Gatorade baths after wins and helmets dropping to the ground after losses.
Here’s to friendships grown through touchdown hugs and high fives, tightly wound bonds intertwined in the bleachers because someone else gets it.
Here’s to Saturday afternoon naps, lulled to sleep by the deep bravado of the College Game Day announcers and the spontaneous cheers of the crowds on TV.
Here’s to believing in the goal, believing in the depths of your soul that he’s the best there is and his time is coming.
Here’s to hitting the proverbial wall, crying in the shower, and wondering if we’ll survive.
Here’s to finding grace in the morning, for him, but more importantly for us.
Here’s to long seasons and short, freezing games and dripping sweat, tears of victory and tears of defeat, highs and lows and everything in between.
Here’s to next year and knowing you’ll be better because of this year.
Here’s to football season, sisters.
We did it and we’ll do it again, because despite everything—the disappointments, the emotions, the wondering how and why and when—it makes sense to us.
And gives this life meaning.
Far beyond the field on Friday Nights.