Born on the first day of football.
In the stands since his newborn days.
He has missed only a couple games in the last four seasons.
He is a pro at roadtrips and rain delays.
He eats, sleeps, breathes ball.
Just like Daddy.
He cheers for EVERYONE--
band, cheerleaders, drill team, mascot,
Our team, the other team!
He asks, "Where's MY Daddy about 30 times a game?"
He's not sure on the concepts of the press box or referees.
He asks why the coaches are wearing headphones?
Can they get Paw Patrol ones like his?
He can sleep in the bleachers when he's really tired.
Concession snacks are his favorites.
He could live on purple Gatorade and popcorn.
He plays for HOURS without really watching the game, but stands on top of his seat when the game gets close or loud or intense.
He will talk to any fan and usually charms them out of a candy, drink, or the occasional ball thrown into the stands by a cheerleader.
He doesn't know about winning or losing just yet, and that's okay.
Nothing beats his reaction when that final buzzer sounds.
He doesn't care about the score.
"Can we go see MY daddy?!"
He makes a beeline down to the field, running over the toes of anyone too slow to move out of this determined three-year-old's way.
He spots Daddy coming down the press box steps or crossing the field, shaking hands, congratulating or comforting players, and bounces up and down, impatiently waiting HIS turn.
FINALLY.
He jumps into Daddy's arms, and all is right in his world.
