SPORTS

MOTHER

OF ALL SPORTS

When sons
(and daughters)
participate in
contact sports,
it's time for
moms to bite
their nails.

GAIL ZIMMERMAN

I

'ye watched my
13-year-old son
Dan play many
sports. I've winced
when he's been hit
by a pitched ball
in baseball. I've
sighed as he's fallen in the
mud playing soccer. I've
groaned when he's hobbled off
the basketball court with a
twisted ankle.
With all the team sports
he's played, however, I never
really worried about sports
injuries. After all, I'd made it
clear under no circumstances
would he be allowed to play
on the sports team feared by
Jewish mothers everywhere
— the school football team.
This year Dan went
through a "rite of passage"
experienced for generations
by Jewish boys of 13. He
became bar mitzvah.
My son, unlike most Jewish
boys of previous generations,
also acquired the "right to
pass." He became a football
player.
I have never liked, nor
understood, football. While
attending University of
Michigan, I attended all the
football games. But watching
the game was the last thing
on my mind. The crisp fall air,
the activity in the stands, and

When she's not biting her
nails at her son's football
games, Gail Zimmerman is a
copy editor and proofreader at
The Jewish News.

Photos by G lenn Triest

Editorial Assistant

half time, when the marching
band took over, drew me to
the stadium.
Likewise, I've never joined
my husband and son wat-
ching football games on TV.
When it's time for "Monday
Night Football," they head
upstairs to watch. My
daughter Julie and I much
prefer the levity of "Murphy
Brown" and "Designing
Women."
As Judy Oppenheimer
writes in Dreams of Glory, a
book about following her son's
high school football season:
"Football terrified me. Every-
thing I had felt about sports
pre-motherhood, went triple
for football. My revulsion, my
distaste, my horror all ran
deeper. I had never taken the
kids to football games. I didn't
even like to be around when
my husband and sons occa-
sionally watched them on TV,
venting the horribly coarse,
macho noises the game
seemed to demand. Football
was not an arena for enjoy-
ment, for joy. Football was a
sport for killers."
So how did my son come to
join the combined 7th-8th
grade football team at Norup
Middle School in the Berkley
School District? He had
listened when we'd said no to

"Is that my son on the
bottom of the pile?"

flag football in 4th through
6th grades. We were able to
keep him from trying out for
the team in 7th grade. "You'll
get hurt" didn't work this
year. He was 13 now, and
despite our objections, wanted
to give it a try. "Besides," he
advised us, "all my friends
are playing."
What had happened to the
unified chorus of "No foot-
ball!" among the Jewish
mothers I'd sat with during
basketball, soccer and base-
ball games? Had a crack in
the circle of our resolve open-
ed a door we could not close?
Had our fear of injury
dissipated? Was there some
value to playing football we
had not before recognized?
Would the ways our sons
played at football change the
fabric of their very lives?
Certainly, for most of us, the
fear of injury has not gone
away.
Judy Kepes of Huntington
Woods, whose son Zack, 13,
plays wide receiver and defen-
sive back, said, "I know

Jewish boys are supposed to
play 'safe' sports like tennis,
but Zack was really commit-
ted to this. I felt it was impor-
tant to support him."
She admits watching her
son play football is more dif-
ficult than watching other
sports. "I feel more tension
watching football because
there is more risk of injury. I
don't want to see him in that
pile."
Arlene Selik of Huntington
Woods has found a way to
avoid seeing her son Marc, 13,
a wide receiver and defensive
back, suffer injury. "I go to
the games," she said, "but I
don't watch?'
Gregg Finegood, 13, is play-
ing his second year on
Norup's team, this year as
tackle. Nancy Finegood of
Oak Park concedes that foot-
ball "was the only sport I
didn't want my son to play
because it's so violent. He
breaks bones playing every-
thing else. I thought he'd die
here."
When your son's been play-
ing hockey since age 4, the
transition to football is easier.
Susan Parzen of Huntington
Woods was enthusiastic about
having David, 13, play full-
back and linebacker for the
team.

"I was delighted when
David said he wanted to play.
He's always been a good team
player and an avid follower of
college football. In addition to
still playing hockey three
times a week, he attended a
health club all summer. He
was physically and mentally
ready for this?'
Mrs. Parzen says she is not
worried about injuries.
"Although he's had his aches
and pains, David has never
really been hurt during his
hockey years." She admitted,
however, "during a recent
game when David carried the
ball and an opposing player
hit him, I screamed."
Joe Konal, who coaches the
team along with Calvin
Johnson, assures parents that
football is really no more
dangerous than any other
sport. "There are more in-
juries playing basketball," he
said.
Football, he said, is safer
now because coaches take the
time to teach safety.
"Helmets are checked and
reconditioned every year and
measured and officially ap-
proved for every player." In
eight years of coaching he has
seen his players sustain no
more than the usual bumps
and bruises and an occasional
broken finger.
My son Dan, who plays of-
fensive guard and defensive
end, assured me his coach's
advice will prevent any
serious injury. "He told us the
only way you can get hurt is
if you play half-heartedly. If
you go full force, you're not
going to get knocked down or
injured!'
When I watch the game, I
look for number 60. Unrecog-
nizable in his helmet and
pads, Dan is transformed
from the vision of the child I
carry in my mind into a
"looming warrior." When a
play is completed, I check to
see if he is still standing.
After each play, parents
carefully check their rosters
to see who is still standing,
Who has fallen. "I've never
watched at this close proximi-
ty before," said Judy Kepes.
"Down here you hear the
crunch and it's frightening?'
With 13 Jewish players on
the team, "it's just not true

THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS

57