I am the first to admit I've never been a real fan of football.

I never quite understood how folks could get excited about bodies slamming into one another. Where's the thrill in that?

As a kid, I used to play football in my backyard with the neighborhood boys. In fact, I'd score points for the team with my winning passes. But my success as an 8-year-old quarterback never moved beyond that.

My husband, a football fanatic, says his football glory days were fleeting: "Yes, tragically cut short by a soccer injury — and the fact that I couldn't play very well."

But now our 10th-grade son is in the state playoffs, I've moved from indifferent spectator to devoted fan. I'm helping coordinate potlucks. I haku (braid) kukui leaf lei po'o to crown my son and his friends in post-game festivities.

I used to reserve seats for just my immediate family. Now there's about 25 football aficionados who sit together, all 'ohana nui (extended family).

In ancient Hawai'i, our kupuna devoted a vast amount of time to games. The makahiki season was dedicated to the god Lono, patron of sports. The period was mid-October to mid-February. During this time, all unnecessary work ended and war was kapu.

As with football, each makahiki event was lead by a kumu (coach). The referee ('uao) was the judge.

I'm still not an expert in reading the ref's signals. But I do know when the guy in the striped black and white shirt extends his arms skyward, that means touchdown. And I do know when the man in the white cap lifts the football into the air and waves it, that signals end of period.

Our 11-year-old is equally serious about the sport.

"I'm going to train in the off season, Mom," he says repeatedly. "Check this out."

I watch as he kicks his heels back in a slow-moving jog.

I've asked my husband if he was ever as committed to playing football as his two sons.

"I remember my glory days as fourth-string bench warmer," he reminisces in his best Jimmy Stewart imitation. "The last play of the season, my coach called me into the game. I nailed the quarterback."

My husband later confessed that when the team reviewed the film the next day, the quarterback had already been down for a while.

"I was two seconds too late!"

I am a devoted mother vs. a devoted football fan.

My husband, on the other hand, says, "Football is merely my reason to live — nothing more, nothing less."