Monday Night Football walking in his shoes

I just arrived home with my son from his football practice. I had fried chicken on the stove, mashed potatoes, baked beans, mac and cheese, rolls and Monday Night Football. My husband isn't home yet from his football practice with the younger league. As I was finishing the supper the house started rocking as my son turned the tv up as loud as it would go to listen to the opening of the game. I suddenly was taken back to my first years with my husband. The beginning of a tradition. To watch Monday Night Football. I could not believe my son was following the same. He collected his supper from the stove ran in the family room and got comfortable. Amazing. I chuckled to myself as he began calling the game, just as his dad does, only we have to turn the tv louder because Bo can't hear and he talks too loud. My son is softer spoken but as knowledgable about the game. He is already quoting stats and commenting on the new sports info running underneath the picture. He does not like it. Amazing, just like his dad, notices everything and has a comment to boot. Traditions. They come in all shapes, sizes, events and purposes. I feel certain my son will have the surround sound guro gizmo stuff, with the big screen tv, a comfortable chair and the volume all the way up, in his own home one day. I wonder just how many games my family has watched? My son once again has commented on the "left tackle getting his butt chewed out." I look again just to make sure my husband hasn't snuck in while I was cooking. No it is just a younger generation, that has learned to love the game, from the love of his father who still to this day has his pads on, his cleats taped on tight, chin strap inplace, wrists taped, and dreams of playing the game just one more time. Football the best game in the house on Monday Night.