He is still standing.

We played Maplewood, last night, in the trenches of Metro, Nashville, Tn. This was a cannot lose game, if we wanted to stay in the running for the regional play-offs. Well, we lost. We did not just lose. It was complete domination. 52-14. Maplewood had a number 22 that literally ran from side to side, up and down, and could not be brought down if given any running room at all. Ironically, our son's number is 22. He plays safety, kick-off return, and punt return. Our team had several that were already hurt and last night many more were injured. My son was one of them. After a kick-off return the pile had jumped-up and I noticed number 22, my 22, had not run over to sidelines. In fact, he was still on the ground. My heart drops down into my stomach. People around us are deciding just exactly who it is, but I already know. As I was looking on with concern and dismay, they carry him to sidelines. His right leg hanging, limp. I sit for just a few more seconds, then I know in my heart, I am going to the fence to make eye contact with my son, I must see. The trainer, a family friend of ours, immediately comes to me and tells me he thinks it is his ACL, probably torn. It is as if time just stops within my head, I suddenly feel weak, shaky, I am not a surgical nurse at this point, I am a mother who realizes my son may be injured for the season. As I turn to look into my son's face, I see him searching me for answers, "what do I think, mom, am I going to be okay?" I look into this face, this young man that has been such a rock of strenght in our family, and I realize the possibilities. I respond with all I can, I swallow the lump in my throat, and tell him it could be a torn ligament. I watch the years of work, silent frustration, pain, determination and love of the game come spilling out of my son onto the field. The anticipation of getting to play more, being stronger than anyone in his grade or weight class and working when others have given up, became more than he could bear. I have seen the slow, burning ember in my son. It is the most profound evidence of character in his easy-going personality. Many times, what one does not say, is the deepest desire of one's soul. Many would never know my son has a fire that cannot be put out with other's harsh words. Many will never know his anger or desire. Many will never hear him speak an unkind word to another player reagardless of sportsmanship or ability. I know, I have always known, the drive and desire of this young face, is in his maturity beyond his years, his quiet trust in being his own warrior, and the mental toughness life has required from him. I know he may be sitting on the bench right now or bearing a pair or crutches, but he stands straight up in the game of life.