There is an art to making a paper football. Believe me. It starts with a fresh sheet of unwrinkled paper and a strong thumb. And it ends with a perfect isoscles triangle that is firm but not too firm, and may or may not have designs on it. Oh, and in between it is an unparalleled journey.
We used to make them in auto mech class, when we were supposed to be learning about cam shafts, pistons, and axles. Instead we were at the big wooden table in the back of the class with unwrinkled sheets of paper and our own dreams of those little paper footballs.
It all started with a fold, near the edge but away from it too, the perfect length, the long way, and then a tear following the fold all the way to the bottom of the page. Tearing on the fold made for a better football, in my opinion, but some preferred to use scissors. I took true pride in beating them.
Then the real fun began, the raveling of the spine. By this time, or course, Mr. Benton, the auto mech teacher, would finally start to notice that half his class still didn’t know how brakes worked. But he still wouldn’t come to the back of the room, so we continued the raveling.
Back and forth we went, tightly but not too tightly, end over end like a ball being kicked through the uprights in a real game, on a real field and not just a table. Until we would reach the inevitable final fold, which was never perfectly on edge with the end of the paper, leaving us two possibilities. Either cut the end to fit into the pocket or fold it over. I always preferred folding it because it fit more neatly.
And there it was in all its glory, just in time for Benton to finally come back, and just in time for me to slip it discreetly into my pocket and pretend to be reading the text book. Then he would leave again and the real games could begin, one on one like our classic schoolyard games of 21 used to be.
The game would start with a flip, using a coin or otherwise, determining who had the ball first. Then we would square up at opposite ends of the table, the person who won the flip with the football hanging off the edge of the table, and the defender with both hands cupped under their end. In case the ball traveled too far and they could toss it back up for an interception.
First down. The player with the ball could pluck it across the table or flip it into the air, but be careful of it travelling too far. I always liked to keep it relatively short. I knew I had three more downs to work with.
Second down. It’s all about plucking the ball farther across the table. I usually would use this turn to move to the side of the table for easier access. The optimum position of the ball at the end of second down was near the table’s edge.
Third down. Hopefully the ball is in position at the edge in order to ease it across with one final pluck. A touchdown was granted if any part of the paper football was over the edge of the table on the opposite side. But be careful. If the whole football slips off into the abyss, remember that the other player could get an interception so easily with a simple flip of the ball back onto the table.
After a touchdown is scored, line that football up for a kick through the index finger uprights offered by your opponent. The game continues in this vein until you reach a prescribed point total or time limit.
And for a semester those paper football games defined us and separated us while also bringing us together at the same time. Some of us were better than others, some made poor footballs, and others were adept at interceptions, but we all were in the game. And those are memories we will have forever.
Sam

You should make some and send them as gifts to all your special readers 😉
I already have your name on one, Steph. 🙂
Oooooh now I’m all smiley and stuff 🙂
I knew you would be.