So, I’m an Iowa Hawkeye fan.
While I didn’t attend the university, both of my parents did, which in turn resulted in their offspring bleeding black and gold. (I graduated from Grand View University. You may have heard about its football team being national champs last year? Although, full disclosure, Grand View didn’t even have a football team when I was there.)
As I’ve stated hundreds of time, being an Iowa Hawkeye fan is tough. The Hawks will tear your heart right out of your chest, stomp on it and then set it on fire. It doesn’t matter which sport. It’s bound to happen, often without warning. You must be prepared to be heartbroken.
Such was the case Saturday, as we all know. And yea, congrats ISU. You have bragging rights for the year.
My husband is not unlike my father in that they’ll both walk away from a game, frustrated, and never look back. As for me, I will scream expletives at the television until my voice is raw.
However, having kids helps. If I’m watching a game with the kids I will still scream, but usually with less colorful language.
The thing about kids is they sometimes seem to know stuff that we adults forget.
As I was huffing around the house after Saturday's game, contemplating gathering up a life's worth of Hawkeye gear and throwing it in the trash, something outside caught my eye.
There were our three beautiful kids throwing the football around, laughing and smiling, seemingly without a care in the world. I know they all love the Hawks, too, and were surely disappointed, but it hadn't ruined them.
I realized I wasn’t setting the best example for three children who are themselves in competitive sports. While I’ve never carried on like that while watching them play, I definitely wasn’t setting the best example at home.
I think so far I’ve gotten away with being a hotheaded fan because I pale in comparison to some of my family members. I appear somewhat sane alongside them.
Besides, the spirit with which I cheer during games is simply a result of my passion. Surely passion isn’t a character flaw?
Well, I’m not sure my justifications can cut it anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe I’m missing the point.
Last year during a basketball game, my 8-year-old son came up to me, wearing a look of strong concern on his face, and told me, "Mom, it's just a game."
I thought it was kind of cute, but essentially dismissed it.
After Saturday’s game the same boy came up to me and offered a big hug, explaining how he was sorry about the Hawks, letting me know, “It’s OK, Mom.”
And it is OK.
We’re not going to stop being Hawkeye fans, and there are better games ahead.
I’m probably not going to completely eliminate yelling at collegiate athletes from my living room, but I am going to continue to look for ways to do better.
I think that’s one of the greatest things about life. There’s always an opportunity to look for improvement. There’s always a chance to look out the window and see what lesson your kids might have for you. If I keep my eyes peeled and my ears open I just might pick up on a better way.
Perhaps, if we’re lucky, the Hawks will find a better way this season too. Sorry, I just had to.
Contact Editor Abigail Pelzer at (641) 792-3121 Ext. 6530 or apelzer@newtondailynews.com