One thing my mom told me is, live with no regrets.
I live it every day.
Football for the most part defines who I am.
I wish I was 25 again.
I wish I could play another 10 years.
I'm Grubby. I'm 51.
I'm a big fan of football.
I'm a big fan of football.
I'm Grubby. I'm 51.
I've played football for 11 years,
and I couldn't imagine my life without it.
This is my 11th year playing football.
I played 10.
I took five off, and I'm playing my 11th and final season.
My dad left us when we were in eighth grade.
My mom raised us, paid the house off,
so my mom really is my driving force for everything.
2001 was the first year I played in the first year.
Women's organized football was available for anybody to play.
I kept a journal, and my journal basically said,
oh, I hope I make it through this year.
I hope I make the team.
I got a starting position within a week and a half, two weeks,
and it turned out we won the championship.
I thought it was going to be easy.
I thought we'd go back all the time,
and that's the only time we got to the championship.
I did retire once in 2010.
My body needed me to retire.
It needed a break.
My body did. My brain did not.
It was intimidating playing football this year
because I'm playing with kids half my age.
She's like my hero.
I really respect her on the field.
She is one of the baddest bitches that played this game.
I just respect everything about her.
She's a boss.
Age is definitely a state of mind,
and I've learned that this year.
I mean, they can joke with me on how old I am,
but when it comes down to it,
I'm the one asking to do that extra lap.
After the games on Saturday,
it's complete 100%.
Emotionally and physically just drained.
I don't recover as quickly anymore.
It feels good to know that I gave everything I had on that field.
Tomorrow's my last game,
and putting on the pads for the last time
and the helmet for the last time,
and it's going to be hard.
Together! One, two, three!
Together!
I didn't want regrets.
Five, nine, seven, three, one, two, three!
Five, nine, seven, three, one, two, three!
It's a good feeling.
I'm completely 100% exhausted,
and that's the way it should be.
The hardest part of today was looking at the clock
with like 20 seconds left,
and the quarterback was taking a knee in a week.
You know, we were done.
Her shoes are too big to ever fill.
My helmet goes back on my shelf
where it will remain until they put me in a home somewhere,
and I'll be okay with that.
