Sunday, a day of rest

Relaxing on a Sunday, combing the sports pages

Did you read Ruth Riechl's Sunday routine highlighted in today's New York Times? Now that's my kind of Sunday. Except I'd rather not do all that cooking. Nonetheless, Ken and I do cook quite a bit on Sundays, and often the morning starts with a big, wonderful breakfast. Ken makes a great from-scratch buttermilk biscuit and that will be the cornerstone to fried eggs and bacon, or sausage omelets, or eggs, potatoes, and gravy. Megan and Tim LOVE these Sunday morning breakfasts. They call about them; they write others about them; they plan their social lives around them.

But this morning, Ken has left the house early for a trip to Cabela's in Owatonna--to return a cot he bought and to buy me new rain paints for my BWCA trip--and Tim is still sleeping. Tim got together for a bonfire with friends until midnight last night and tomorrow is week 2 of football practice, so I'm glad he's still sleeping. Plus, it opens up the living room for me where I can watch Almanac and read the newspapers online, without complaint.

We'll make a big dinner, maybe grill something (last week we grilled an organic chicken with thyme and sage), and finish up our laundry and preparations for the week (lunch supplies in order, bills to pay, compare our schedules). I hear the Vikings have an exhibition game on TV tonight; we'll watch that (I'll watch only until Mad Men is on!).

Friday football ended with a watermelon feed for the boys. Tim came home and said there was bad news. One of his teammates broke his ankle and ripped three ligaments during a drill. Kid's out for the year. The player works hard at football and gives it his all in practice and games and I feel for him, having a chance to make varsity and then having to sit out his junior year. Plus, the injury sounds bad, especially the torn ligaments, which could cause him a lot of problems beyond high school.

The news came a day after Percy Harvin's collapse on the Vikings practice field. Football is a dangerous sport. It's not easy to be a parent of a football player and not feel conflicted about this. At dinner Friday night, as Tim ate with his elbows on the table (a kid takes home the manners of the school lunchroom), I could see that his forearms were bruised from wrist to elbow, on both arms. He had deep scratches on both arms as well, from helmets, he thought. And they haven't even faced an opponent yet. Some people ask me which is worse: hockey or football? I don't know, the potential for serious injury--and the rules that accompany each of these sports--is probably equally dangerous. The part I'm most worried about is the head, however, and football seems to be the leader in head injuries. Reports last week reported whether Lou Gehrig might have died from injuries related to repeated concussions rather than from ALS.

But I can see a new confidence in Tim this week. He speaks with pride about what he's learning in pre-season and he can't wait for the first game in a few weeks. He's been involved in both defense (as middle linebacker) and in offense (as guard) in the last few days. He'll take whatever role they give him. When I asked if he was sore, he said he was, but in a good way. When I asked if he knew all the plays, he said he knew the defense pretty well (from last year) but not the offense, so he'd have to study the playbook.

Ken called me from the car on Friday and I asked him where he was. He said he was in the area (of Tim's school, which is a few blocks from our house) and thought he'd stop home, grab his lunch, and spend 10 or 15 minutes at the practice field watching the boys. Then he called later in the afternoon and I asked again where he was. He said though he stopped home in the morning to get his lunch, he got distracted and forgot it, so he returned back to eat it, and then took another 10-15 minutes to watch more of practice. Guy cracks me up.