American Rules Football is my choice as “Best Sport” and here’s my reason why.

Let’s just get this out of the way. I am a female. Born female and remain female, all though there were times when I was growing up that the neighborhood kids would have disagreed.


Dad and me 1960

My dad was very athletic when I was young. He had played football and ran track in high school and he always played or coached softball in leagues. He also officiated a lot of pee-wee and jr. high games. He was a stickler for perfection even from his little daughter.

I believe my dad wanted a son first even though he vehemently denies this. Some of my first memories with my dad are in the yard with him teaching me to catch a football. I was taught the correct technique even though growing up in the 60’s and 70’s girls were not ever allowed to play in “real games”. I was taught to watch the ball into my hands and then bring it in to protect it. I was taught to catch a football over my shoulder. I was also taught how to block, but I was never taught to tackle.

Growing up, my brother, who was two and one-half years younger than me, and I was very competitive. I’m going to admit this for the first time ever, I was very jealous of my brother in the fact that he got to play football. I played softball, was on the track and gymnastics teams and was also a cheerleader.  I was very athletic. But when the weather turned cool and it would be Autumn the jealousy and resentment would build. I watched my brother put on pads and helmet and use all the football knowledge that our dad had taught both of us. I watched him drop catches that I would think, “I would have caught that”. I saw him miss blocks, that I would think, “how did you miss that”? I’m not saying my brother was not a good football player, he was. It was just the big “green” monster that grew in me.

During the football season, there was almost always a pickup game going on in the neighborhood. More times than not, in my yard. Most of the time, my dad would quarterback for both teams. This was when I had the most fun. I got to play football in my own yard and I took all my frustrations, for not getting to play for real, out on the boys in my neighborhood. I played my heart out. Dad wouldn’t allow us to tackle, but of course, sometimes it couldn’t be helped. We played two-hand tag. When you are flying through the air to tag someone with both hands, you might land on them, hard.

Me a couple of years out of high school. I was tiny.

I need to explain, I was only 5’3” and 97 lbs when I graduated high school and that was my heaviest weight at that time. I was tiny, but scrappy as all get out.

I asked my dad if I could play football when I was in jr. high. He looked at me like I had lost my mind and said very sternly, “no”.  My heart was broken, I thought since my dad had taught me and knew that I could play, he would work against the school and the Board of Education for my benefit. I thought wrong and he would not allow his daughter to play. That ended the subject forever, I never asked again.

I always loved to watch football games in person and on TV with my dad. He gets very excited about the games and will pick them apart.

My dad currently. Alabama Fan

I have never lost my love for football, even though I never got to play on a real field, the fun I had playing in the yard is something I will never forget.

Football is something even girls can learn to play, watch and enjoy. Today females are allowed to play in pee-wee and up through the ranks.  It is a game the entire family can enjoy playing or watching together.