spokesman.com
The game last week started out like any other. Skinny little seventh-graders, their helmets and shoulder pads looking like they were about to topple them over, did warm-up exercises on either side of the field. Parents sat and stood along the sidelines, chatting and shielding their eyes from the late-September sun. Emmett and Hyrum, my two youngest sons, lolled about in the uncharacteristically high heat, already bored as they waited impatiently to see their big brother Henry play in his second…
about 2 years ago