The Story of Lasagna, Pizza Bread and Feeding Kids

I grew up on an acre of land in New York.  The property had many, many deciduous trees scattered throughout.  They were mostly oak with a cluster of sassafras and birch trees.  The fall foliage was incredible - but then the leaves came down.  Somewhere along my childhood my mother invented a social event: the leaf raking party.  She made lasagna while we invited friends over to rake leaves.  The yard was done in half the time and then everyone would gather around the table for a delicious dinner.  That definitely left an impression on me, mostly that if you offer to feed teenagers and young adults they will come out of the woodwork.

These days I have a much, much smaller yard and a lawn mower that picks up the trimmings.  This definitely frees up our Saturdays so we can take in a little college football.  This past weekend we had the opportunity to see a Duck football game and then visit with Emily for a bit. Since the game was over by late afternoon, we planned to bring some groceries to her house and cook a quick meal for her and her friends.

To give you an idea of where Emily lives, she is in a house with 44 other young women.  This house has a brother house with 28 young men living there.  Given that there is usually a cook on premise during the week you can imagine the size of the kitchen.  The kids are on their own for meals on the weekend, so we figured we might be feeding more than our own children Saturday night.  We asked Emily for a meal suggestion and she came up with pizza bread, an easy recipe my sister-in-law gave me when we started hosting team dinners.  So John had made up six batches of pizza dough that could rise while we were at the football game.  We tossed the other ingredients in a cooler, along with salad fixings.

After the game we made it back to the house and began to unload the coolers.  This cooking area is set up so a counter spans the length of the kitchen.  This counter has about ten stools where the kids can sit and look into the work area while eating or talking.  Once we had assembled the pans and cutting boards, we went to work.  Three of us rolled out the dough balls and began to assemble the loaves.  Kids started to congregate and socialize, partially out of curiosity about these parents cooking away, partially because of the marinara smells wafting in the air.  Emily would greet them all, make introductions and invite everyone to stick around and try some pizza bread.  Once all the loaves were out of the oven I had to make a decision: do we set the dining room table and invite everyone to join us?  Should I simply bring the platters to the counter where all had assembled and forgo my vision of a family-style dinner?  Looking at the group I decided to simply serve at the counter and keep it casual.  I feared we might lose a few in the transition to the dining room.  So we set out bowls of marinara for dipping and plates of sliced pizza bread.  I took a spot along the counter and listened to the stories the kids told, met some new gals and a few of the guys, and simply took in all the energy.  It was not the meal I planned per se, it was even better.

The older I get, the wiser I realize my mother was when raising me.  She knew if you cook a meal for young adults, make extra.  She also knew that if you want to know what is going on your child's life, invite a bunch of his or her friends over and simply listen.  Somewhere along the way I lost count of how many we fed that night, but I know stories were told and we laughed a lot.  So I continue to apply the things my mom taught me: hospitality is another word for love and when it comes to feeding young adults, cook a lot of food.  We didn't have to rake leaves this weekend, but the tradition of feeding the kids and their friends continues.

Life Lessons Learned on a Football Field

Before the start of each game, the captains walk
out to meet the opposing team's captain for the coin toss.
These young men are selected based on their leadership.

Friday night was the last high school football game of the season, and for many of the athletes it was the last game of their lives.  Sure, there will be pick up games, but that night was the last night many of them will ever suit up in full gear and play with those teammates.  There are always a lot of emotions when a sport season comes to an end for any athlete.  Each season bonds are forged, goals are set and hopefully accomplished, and a lot of personal growth takes place.  After the final game there is a spectrum of emotions that both athletes and parents feel as they process the finality of it all.  These past few days we have felt all these things.

Something happened after the game Friday night that was so moving, even at that moment it felt as if I were watching a sacred event unfold before my eyes.  To fully understand the meaning a little context is required.  All season long, the parents would wait until the teams congratulated each other before walking down to the field.  We would all congregate around our team huddle and wait for the boys to lift their fists and say something in unity before they turned and walked over to us.  Friday night was different, and for more reasons than the loss.  That night marked the end, and witnessing it felt like watching a sacred event. 

Personally, I was not caught up in the emotions that many of the parents experienced.  This is Jack’s first and last season, so we didn’t have as much invested as other parents.  Many of these families have been together for years.  In a way that gave me a somewhat impartial eye to witness the events unfold.  When the boys gathered into their last team huddle they stood motionless.  I suspect the coaches helped the young men shift their thinking from the loss to what they achieved and possibly they told them how proud they are of each of them.  The talk ended but the young men were not ready to take the next step.  They stood motionless for a few moments, a few long moments.  Then slowly they turned to each other and started hugging, sharing words and for some, openly crying.  Yet, as they did this, none of them turned around.  None.  It was clear that not one of them was ready for the moment to end.  Slowly, they moved around this nucleus with a chasm between them and us.  Keeping their backs to us – their family and friends – the young men continued to support each other and stretch that last moment.  Finally, one by one they broke the bond holding them together, and turned to face us parents.  Like I said earlier, it was like witnessing a sacred moment up close. 

I believe each one of the young men experienced a lot that night.  The seniors crossed the threshold of an important milestone.  For some, football is their identity, the core of who they are: a teammate, an athlete, and a leader.  Those seniors knew the moment they turned to face us parents and friends, it would be the first step into a new, possibly undefined part of their senior year.  It was their first major “last” event during this senior year.  There are some who will transition into other sports or activities, but that too is a giant step away from their identity as a football player.  I suspect many of the young men have been playing since elementary school, and this marked the last time they will don the armor of the game. 

As the young men broke away from each other, some shed tears while others held back but one thing was obvious, there was a lot of emotion down on that field.  When the coaches turned away from the huddle, some stopped to talk with parents while others busied themselves with the task of packing up.  Regardless, I could see in everyone’s eyes and body language that the coaches too were processing the end of a wonderful season but through the lens of a final loss.  Each will move at their own pace to the point where the beauty of this season is a stronger memory than that last loss.

Through the coaching staff’s commitment, these young men learned more than good techniques and strategies – they learned more than lessons associated with setting goals and working to achieve them.  We know they will all face different obstacles in life, but the skills learned during practice, games and that last huddle will help them find the strength and desire to move forward and overcome whatever challenge they face. 

This season was meaningful.  For that to occur, I recognize that the coaching staff has orchestrated something that doesn’t show up in the win-loss column.  The closeness of these young men speaks volumes toward the healthy attitudes and relationships amongst the team.  But the season was meaningful for more than those with uniforms, it was meaningful for the parents and the student body as well.  Am I happy that the team had a winning season?  Sure.  Do I appreciate how connected these young men are and how much they have grown on and off the field?  Absolutely.  That is the meaningful part, and the piece that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.  And for that I want to thank everyone on the coaching staff.  It was a beautiful season.