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youth, I played Pop Warner football at Lakeshore Athletic Association near where we lived on the west side of Jacksonville. Lakeshore is a stone’s throw from the St. Johns River but not near any lakes, as far as I could tell. It was a very strong and well-attended sports program that attracted a lot of top-flight competition and made me a better player. Initially I only played baseball at Normandy Little League and basketball in church leagues, but finally I wore my parents down with my begging and whining, and a few weeks before I turned eight, they finally let me play Pop Warner football.
    The first week of football didn’t go all that well. I got sick every day at practice with headaches, dizziness, and nausea. I asked my mom if there was something that we could do or something that I could take, and while she allowed me to take something to calm my stomach and head after practice, she was clearly hesitant about making a habit of it.
    At the end of that first week my parents sat me down. It was clear to them that if these symptoms didn’t stop soon, I would have to give up football. It was only a game, and they were not going to medicate me to play a game. My mom was particularly concerned, because she has dealt with Ménière’s disease all her life. It’s a condition of the inner ear that, for her, affects her balance. She wondered if I might have the same thing, especially since roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, and similar things have always made me ill.
    Still, I didn’t want to give up football, but I’d learned that the scriptures make it clear we are to honor our mothers and fathers. My siblings and I were fortunate to have parents who made that easy to fulfill—at least we could see they deserved to be honored by us whether we always demonstrated it or not. But it wasn’t until later—when I wasn’t with them all the time—that I began to realize all the reasons, in addition to the instruction in God’s Word, that they deserved not only our respect and praise, but to be honored and loved. They cared for us, protected us, and nurtured us so that we could grow into the people God wants us to be. They guided us along the path on which they believe He had created us to walk. They did whatever it took to make sure following God’s wisdom and direction was the path we took.
    Well, my mom prayed with me that evening. She and I knelt beside my bunk bed and prayed that God might take away whatever it was and heal me so I might be able to play football. If it was God’s will. That was always the standard for them, in anything they prayed for: if it was God’s will . . . they asked for it to be done. And for whatever reason you might wish to assign, after that night, I’ve never had another issue with my head while playing football.
    Well, there was one issue. But that was much later.
    Once I got over my initial sickness, the Lakeshore Athletic Association football program was a great place to grow up and compete. Not only did it give me my first experience at playing quarterback—the only position I’ve ever wanted to play—it also produced a lot of talent that flowed into the high schools all over the Jacksonville area and beyond. From my Pee Wee football team alone, we produced a number of Division I athletes, including guys who played for South Carolina, Louisville, Houston, West Virginia, and Florida. And there were others who might have made it that far except for falling by the wayside through low grades, drug use, or other problems that cut their athletic pursuits short.
    After playing baseball for years at Normandy, at age eleven I was invited to play on a traveling baseball team, the Tidal Wave. Because they wanted us to sample and enjoy different sports and activities, my parents had always discouraged us from playing only one sport for the entire year; however, they did allow me to play on this traveling team. I played three or four seasons with them, and during that span we won hundreds of