Shielded from passing cars on Triangle Road by a berm and landscaping, the complex is truly a hidden treasure. Three beautifully kept full-sized fields - one with lighting and two small grandstands at the 50 yard line - make up the bulk of the property. There is also a restroom facility, and ample parking.
The games being played by the younger kids bore only a passing resemblance to real football. There was no tackling, of course, and it was hard to determine if they were running pre-designed plays - but it was great fun to watch. And every now and then, by some magic, a great run would be made - and even an occasional touchdown!
As I stood in the end zone to take this photo on a picture-perfect Autumn morning, with parents and grandparents watching from their lawn chairs, and pint-sized cheerleaders on the sidelines, I felt at peace - like nothing could go wrong, and all goals could be achieved.
That's when it hit me. Seven year old football is exactly like Electric Football. First manufactured in 1948, and wildly popular in the 60s and 70s, Electric Football has to be the most frustrating and unplayable game ever invented. The small plastic "players" move around on the vibrating field with no rhyme or reason, with pushing and shoving more reminiscent of a Tokyo subway station at rush hour than a game of football.
Yet there was something about the game that made us want to play it again and again. Maybe it was the danger inherent in the electricity (110 volts of fun) - who knows? - we played and played.
Whatever the reason for its popularity, I do know this - you can't be a pessimist if you played and enjoyed Electric Football. And I think the same can be said for the moms and dads at the Hillsborough Youth Football Complex Saturday morning. Set the kids up, flip the switch, and hope for that great run up the middle. This is more than eternal optimism, it's Paternal Optimism -the best kind!
Mr. Gillette
ReplyDeleteThank you for this wonderful blog. I just read today’s blog and it along with many others you’ve written about the goodness of Hillsborough brings to mind a hymn written by Johnson Oatman, Jr., titled – ‘Count your blessings. Name them one by one.”
You blog stands in such stark contrast to the tape of the Sept. 12 CSC meeting I just watched last night. I won’t venture too much into the immature cruelty and name calling that occurred in the meeting, other than to say when I think of Hillsborough I very much prefer to think of your Blogs as reflecting the true nature of Hillsborough and her people. Certainly not what I watched on that tape as two CSC Commissioners (who also are very experienced politicians) saw fit in unleashing an unmitigated cruel verbal attack on the only female on the CSC who is simply an innocent citizen with no political background.