Celebrate the First Down

I grew up with college football.

Correction: I grew up with Buckeye football.

I was actually born a Nittany Lion. My father’s first teaching position was at Penn State.  I don’t remember much about those early years. I do remember a big lion statue, but maybe that memory comes from trips back to State College when I was older.

My first memories of Buckeye football games were in the 1970s. During Archie Griffin’s Heisman Trophy-winning years. Yes, plural. Griffin is still college football’s only two-time Hesiman winner. Back then, we had two season tickets, and my mom, sisters, and I took turns going to the games with my dad. It was just a given that my dad would get one of those two seats. Some things are non-negotiable.

There was – and still is – so much to see at the ‘Shoe!

I can remember begging to go, but it wasn’t really the game that held my attention. There was so much more going on in that stadium. There were cheerleaders and a marching band. (Not just any marching band. TBDBITL. Look it up if you’re not sure.) I didn’t always know who had the ball or what yard line we were on, but I was always 100% certain of the whereabouts of Brutus, the Buckeye’s big-headed nut mascot. (Laugh if you must, but I still love that guy.)

That big head makes headstands easier. I think.

And then there was the SCORE. I was always aware of the score. I mean, that’s why we came, right? To see the Buckeyes win. In the end, the most important thing was the score.

If, while I was busy finding Brutus, the crowd would leap to their feet and cheer, I’d ask my dad, “What happened? Did we score a touchdown?”

“No.”

“Then why are we cheering?”

“We sacked their quarterback.”

“Oh. How many points is that worth?”

“None.”

“Oh.” I didn’t see the point in getting all excited if it didn’t change the score.

I’d go back to band-watching. When more cheers erupted, it would start all over.

“What happened? Did we kick a field goal?”

“No.”

“Then why are we cheering?”

“We got a first down.”

“Oh. How many points is that worth?”

“None.”

“Oh.”

Before long, I’d realize that four quarters could last a long time. A very long time. The clock ticked down, but it stopped. It stopped frequently.

I realized that time went faster if I actually paid attention to what was happening on the field. And it was a lot more fun if you celebrated every little good thing that happened.

A good kick?  YAY!

A long pass? HOORAY!

A penalty call that wasn’t on us? YES!

Of course, those touchdowns and field goals were worth extra-loud cheering and multiple high fives. But the whole thing was just so much more exciting when we celebrated the small stuff.

Isn’t life much the same? I know my writing life is. It needs to be.

Not every day is going to bring an offer of publication, an award notification, or an invitation to a big event. We can’t wait to “score” to celebrate.

Nail a revision? YAY!

Get an encouraging, helpful rejection? HOORAY!

Read a great tip about an editor who’s looking for something just like your work-in-progress? YES!

We have to cheer every small step. We have to celebrate every yard gained toward the goal.

If we don’t, we’ll find ourselves in a very long game looking for the big-headed nut while the clock ticks slowly down.

Celebrate the first down. Life’s a lot more fun that way.

Taking my little girl to the game is just as much as being there with my dad!