Ron was a fifteen-year-old teenager, a tenth-grade student at Granger High School. It was game day, and he was the only sophomore¹ suiting up with the varsity team. Excitedly, he invited his mother to attend. It was her very first football game, and she promised to be there with several of her friends. The game finally ended, and she was waiting outside the locker² room to drive Ron home.

"What did you think of the game, Mom? Did you see the three touchdown passes our team made and our tough defense³, and the fumble⁴ on the kickoff return that we recovered?" he asked.

His mother replied, "Ron, you were magnificent. You have such presence, and I was proud of the pride you took in the way you looked. You pulled up your knee socks eleven times during the game, and I could tell you were perspiring⁵ in all those bulky pads because you got eight drinks and splashed water on your face twice. I really like how you went out of you way to pat number nineteen, number five and number ninety on the back every time they came off the field."

"Mom, how do you know all that? And how can you say I was magnificent? I didn't even play in the game."

His mother smiled and hugged him. "Ron, I don't know anything about football. I didn't come here to watch the game. I came here to watch you!"