Pigskin Prognostications

I love the game of football.

I played the game in college, wore a flag on my hip in my late 20s attempting to recapture my Glory Years, and probably spent several thousand hours watching games on TV in the decades that followed.

I went on to procure the "best seat in the house" about ten years ago by deciding to become a football official at the high school Friday Night Lights level. That experience also afforded me the opportunity and privilege of refereeing Pop Warner games on Saturday mornings and afternoons.

I especially enjoy officiating Pop Warner ball at the Bobble Head level, where kids in the 7-9 year old bracket begin to learn the fundamentals of the game and the meaning of sportsmanship.

Quick aside ....

A couple of years back, I served as the referee (the White Hat) during a Pop Warner Mighty-Mites game between the Sharks and the Tarpons. A Tarpon player, Number 68 -- all of 7 years old, all 78 pounds and all 4'2" of him -- was playing on the offensive line.

I noticed he stopped blocking right after the snap. He was whirling around in circles, stomping his feet, and crying his eyes out.

I immediately ascertained the kid wasn't injured -- how could he be hurt when all of the action was taking place 20 yards away from him? -- so I allowed play to continue on for several seconds. Then I whistled the play dead just after a gang of Sharks dragged the Tarpons' ball carrier to the turf.

I walked over to Number 68, who was now crying louder than ever as he crawled around on his knees scooping his fingers through the chewed-up sod. I asked him if he was hurt. Sobbing and frantically digging his fingers through the mud on a mission, he screamed: "I lost my front tooth!"

I grabbed Number 68 by his pads and helped him regain his feet. I then peeked through the kid's face mask attached to his helmet and, indeed, there was a crimson gap in his uppers -- the companion incisor was also missing.

Game rules require that all players wear -- and use -- teeth protectors, which are pieces of white or clear plastic/composite that kids can bite into in order to protect their teeth during normal game contact. Teeth protectors dangle from face masks at the Pop Warner level, snapped into place by a piece of moulded plastic.

"My daddy said I could put my front tooth under my pillow and the Tooth Fairy would visit and give me five bucks," whimpered Number 68.

The kid's tooth protector provided the definitive clue. It glistened with a faint trace of blood mixed with some dirty saliva. What appeared to be a roan pearl was clearly embedded within the plastic.

Naturally, the kid did not and could not see what I had seen. Being the referee, that is, the person in complete charge of play, I decided to blow my whistle to stop the clock so that I could play a little game-within-a-game of my own.

"Let's take a look and see if we can find it," I said.

We pawed the turf together for a second or two. And then, I said: "Hey! Check out your tooth protector!"

In less than a femto-second, Number 68's mood shifted from near-complete dispair to near-complete elation. I think you can tell this is happening by looking into a kid's eyes.

Pop Warner Football rules also prescribe that players who have blood on their uniforms or their equipment must be sent to their side lines for care.

So I ordered Number 68 off of the field.

"Don't forget to put your tooth in a place for safe-keeping. And good luck with the Tooth Fairy," I told him.

There is football.

Then, again, there is football.