The morning air was crisp, the forests were dressing in their fall colors and Othel had his powder blue apparel for the Ole Miss game day. The day was definitely a fan’s delight — especially when the two tickets to the Oklahoma game were birthday gifts to Othel.

We were the privileged recipients of family escorts, and we appreciated greatly the parking permit that allowed us nearby access to our reserved seating. The panoramic view of the stadium surfaced so many former experiences of football days when Eli ran onto the playing field.  

Those weren’t panoramic views, but near end zone seating with other parents of the team. In the years that we occupied those seats, I wanted an audience with any or all of the athletic decision makers so I could inform them of the sacrifices we parents had made. 

Years of practicing in the backyard, after school practices at middle school, the road trips every player made on the school bus, the weight room hours and the practice hours on the high school field, the stinky loads of football uniforms and diets of high carbs were just some of the ways the athletes invested in the sport. And — in all of those time slots, a family member from our household was always involved.

As the role of mother, I invested years of extra prayer for the players’ safety — even asking God for clouds on those torturing August days of practice. I prayed for the coaches — especially the college ones — that they would always consider the safety of the players and learn plays that the fans wouldn’t boo so loudly. (Team parents NEVER like their sons being booed).  

I stayed up late for every Friday in those football years preparing tailgate foods and hauling half our kitchen into the Grove. Our family and friends made my time worth it when we lingered around our table after the games. (Those were about the only times we were able to have brief visits with Eli.) A win always made the food taste better, and a loss would be swallowed with hope for a better week of practice along with another bite of a cold chicken tender.

When Eli was offered a full scholarship for five years as an Ole Miss football player, Othel and I celebrated with him. There’s nothing quite like seeing your children have their dreams fulfilled. But we, along with Eli, realized over those five years, he and his family would be asked for a lot of sacrificing.  Scholarships, sometimes referred to as a “full ride,” is a misleading term.

It’s a costly agreement that involves much more than finances.

The roar of the Ole Miss/Oklahoma fans after a first down would always shift me from memory lane to my surroundings. I occasionally used Othel’s binoculars to scan the field of play and then look for the football team’s parent section. I will always be convinced that they deserve a panoramic view with unobstructed views of the field, a feast that they didn’t have to prepare and an overhead protection from the sun and inclement weather.

As we left our luxury suite I reminded myself of God’s protection and teaching during those five years. And His blessings hadn’t ended. I also realized that a big portion of life can be in or near the “end zone” section, but when the “game of life” finally ends, God’s team will be the ones with the panoramic views.

Letters to Camille Anding may be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS 39602.