Candy A. Westbrook

Candy A. Westbrook - Author, Columnist, Speaker, Football Mom

"Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus … who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross" (Hebrews 12:1-2 NKJ).
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Where There’s A Will

February 19, 2020 by Candy A. Westbrook

Dear Football Mom,

I’m a single mom, and this week I nearly lost it. I’m a wreck. My son doesn’t have one scholarship offer. Signing day is just weeks away. What do we do? How can I help my son, who has worked so hard throughout his high school years, to achieve a college football scholarship? Without financial help, I’m not sure he can attend college. I’m desperate. I’m not too proud to ask for help. Do you have any connections, any tricks in your bag, any tips to help us?

Dear Reader,

Oh dear, don’t fall apart. I’ve been in your shoes, and I know the panic button is at defcon two! Believe it or not, there is still time. Together, let’s see if we can bring this to a successful finish. But I will tell you this: no tricks, no bag, and no tips here. Maybe suggestions, but the tips I leave for those with PhDs.   

Yes, you are right, the 2020 college signing day is February 5, and it’s coming like a rocket blast. Straight up though, I will tell you many players sign after signing day. So, don’t get flustered or go having a hissy fit. Let’s take it one-step at a time, and I hope this game plan of action might ease your worries right onto your son signing with his dream team. Keep in mind, sometimes you have to take the scenic route.

Have you talked to his high school coach? Try getting in touch with him immediately, and have an honest heart to heart about where your son might fit in with a college team. There could be a program that hasn’t known of your son and he’d fit in perfectly. He could be the answer they’re looking for. You never know if you don’t ask.

Make sure you have what you need at the drop of a hat, so you are equipped and loaded with the correct information, ready to send it lickety split to any coach asking for it. Or to take with you to any meetings you might set up … all the better. Things like highlight film, a copy of your son’s grades obtained from his high school’s counselor’s office. And, while you’re at it, get numerous copies. Maybe even his stats. These are topics you should cover in your conversation with his coach.

If any recruiters have called your home or sent emails or snail mail, call them now, pronto. Ask to speak to the recruiter for your area. Or, if you have the name of the coaches who did call, ask to speak to them directly. Also, engage them in conversation. Don’t show your desperation, but do let them know your concerns for your son if all opportunities with their program are closed. Then and only then—when the door is closed—ask about walking on and what their policy might be for new players who do just that. Remember, walking on could be an option. He could work his way to a scholarship next year with said team. But he will have to work and prove he deserves at least a fraction of the financial aid.

When you are talking to these coaches, ask them if they know of other coaches who might be looking for the talent/position of your son. By that, I mean to tell you, they all know each other. They, college coaches, are all jocking for a one up with each other. But on occasion, you’ll find a kind generous coach willing to go the distance and help. It never hurts to ask for a reference, and then go right ahead and ask them if they might be inclined to give them a call on your behalf. Make sure you write down who they said and their contact information.

For a coach to contact another coach in the interest of your son gives you leverage and a heads-up to the coach you are about to call. It sets a positive stage. You have to be a tad bold. I know, it can be intimidating in the all-male world of college football, but as I’ve always said, “You never G-E-T till you A-S-K.” And honey, you gotta ask away.

Also, contact any junior colleges in your area with a football program. Nothing wrong with starting at a junior college and transferring once his viability goes up.

Another thing to keep in mind, some states offer government funded money (grants) for academic achievements such as an average GPA of 3.00. Then again, if your son has an average 4.00, he’ll easily qualify for academic scholarships. Then, walking on should be a walk in the park. It’d be a good idea to check with his counselor’s office to find out more about these opportunities, anyway. Academic scholarships or any other county/community grants will allow y’all some time without you forking over tuition fees for the first semester. It’s worth checking out.

If all else fails and there truly isn’t a place—a program for him to land—please reach out to me again. Not that I can do a thing, or wave a magic wand, but I’m pulling for you, and I do give a hoot.       

You don’t want to hear this—oh, you really don’t—but he could stay home the first semester, and get a job, save his money. But make sure he keeps a regime of working out somewhere. He might ask his coach if he can use the weight room, but he’ll also need someone to spot him. Maybe investing in a six-month gym membership might not be a bad idea. He doesn’t need to lose ground, and he needs to be ready to tackle the college field possibly next semester. You never know he could get a chance to walk on somewhere in the spring. It’s not what y’all want to have to do, but it is a solid plan.

I’m a strong believer in where there’s a will—there’s a way. When you work hard, put God first, and stay at it … good things do happen! 


Dear Football Mom,

With the Super Bowl on everyone’s schedule, I’ve read sport reports of NFL players having service dogs on the sidelines to sooth their nerves. What do you think about that?

Dear Reader,

I think those NFL-ers need to go and open a dog pound. Bless their hearts.

Filed Under: college coaches, college football recruiting, college recruiting, football, Football Mom Column, football players, football season, football signing day, senior year, sons, Super Bowl

Yup, the Refs Made A Bad Call.

February 12, 2019 by Candy A. Westbrook

Dear Football Mom,

Like your opinion about the New Orleans Saints robbed of playing in Super Bowl 2019. I’m a Saints fan, season ticket holder, and I’m mad as $#%% over the missed call! Suing the refs, NFL, or Roger Goodell is too good for them. They should lose their jobs, every one of them, never to step foot on an NFL field or be associated with pro teams again. Enough stupidity already.   

Dear Reader,

Had one of my guys been on the Saints team, I would be answering this note from behind jail bars. Oh, trust me—I’m almost sure of it. But since they weren’t on the team, my new black isn’t orange. I’m wondering though, if we can blow off steam without swatting somebody upside the head, or landing in the jailhouse for being brainless.

I get it, I do. Not too sure, you really want to know my opinion. In truth, you really don’t. But since you asked, remember this: opinions are like a duck’s derrière … everyone has one.

It’s not like the refs don’t bring home some serious bacon. Most folks would be tickled pink as a pig for the high, six-figure, annual income these dudes make for half a year’s work. Not that they don’t deserve it; I’m almost sure they do.

In one sense, they are the most hated guys in America for doing their jobs—sort of like President Trump. In another sense, they are (after all) human, and just as none of us do a perfect job every day in our profession, they make mistakes. The problem isn’t necessarily the refs. It’s the replay rulings.

Of course, our powderpuff friend, Roger Dodger is used to ducking controversy. Just a few months back, the taking-a-knee thang resulted in most of us boycotting the games and lowered the NFL-ers paycheck, not a word from him until he saw his bottom line shrinking. I’m still not watching too much NFL. Poor ole Roger, just can’t get ahead of any hullabaloo storm brewing before it blows up in his face. You’d think he’d learn a thing or two by now.

Football is an emotional game, and anybody says different is a nincompoop. But emotion doesn’t win games as much as I would like to think it can. Neither does suing anyone. It should just never come down to one play, one mistake, one goof-up.

So, the remaining time on the clock was 1:45 at the time of the screw-up. Score tied at 20, third down, Saints in possession of ball. Yes, I agree, had the penalty been called, the Saints would have been given a new set of downs and a chance, notice “a chance” to run the clock down before attempting a short field goal, or even a touchdown. Game over. Saints win.

Maybe the ball would have gone through the uprights—maybe it wouldn’t have. Maybe it would have been blocked, or maybe it could have been intercepted. The should-a, could-a, would-a game plan was the call here. It just shouldn’t come down to a missed penalty call, especially in the NFL. They are, after all, pros … told ya … you didn’t want my opinion.

The debate over bad calls for refs, or “favoring” one team over another is nothing new. How many college, high school, middle school, or even Pee Wee games have been wiggled out of winning due to missed calls or wrong calls by the refs? We’ve all seen it. It happens.

Thing is—pass interference is not a reviewable play in the NFL. Neither is holding calls on Offense or Defense. This debate will live on until the rules change. No suing needed.

By the time, you see our column in print; Super Bowl LII will be in the history books to be chewed over like a dog’s bone. If you really want to argue, advocate to get the reviewable NFL rules changed and start lobbying to do just that. Now is your chance.

Filed Under: football, Football Mom Column, New Orleans Saints, NFL, pro football, scandal, Super Bowl

Super Bowl Twist

January 30, 2013 by Candy A. Westbrook

Bryson signs autograph for young Tulane fan

Atlanta advanced to the final rounds for Super Bowl 1998, and as a football family from Georgia, we were purdy pumped! Thing is, that same year was the season Brandon would advance from high school to college. In other words, he’d graduate spring of ’99. And, just as the Falcons were in the midst of capturing the NFC Championship—we were hopping from one college campus to another for Brandon’s official visits. College football recruiting season was wide open!

We often missed the NFL Sunday games leading-up to the Super Bowl, either from driving or flying back to Georgia. But the weekend the Super Bowl played, our schedule slapped us smack-dab in New Orleans for the Tulane University visit. After all, his brother Bryson was already there playing for the Green Wave, why not take the little bro too? But by the time Brandon’s recruiting season began, Tommy Bowden’s season at Tulane, was over.

Clemson made Bowden an offer he couldn’t refuse, so he took the head coaching job for the Tigars. The crew who put the Green Wave on top packed-up and headed for higher ground. That coaching switch left a huge hole. To top it off, the replacements for Bowden’s crew were in the shady character catalog. They did not hold the high esteem of committed Christian like Coach Bowden did. I saw that for myself, up front and very personal. The difference was utterly brusque!

As our visit with Tulane came to a close that Sunday, we were anxious to get to the N.O. airport, catch our plane, head home and watch maybe the last half of the Super Bowl. Garsh by golly, the Falcons were breaking a record too, and we didn’t want to miss out! Teeing-up for a Super Bowl? First time in franchise history!

Our priority that afternoon? Wishing our plane left on time! If anyone has ever departed from the N.O. airport on time, I’d love to hear from you. We never did. And, we flew in and out of N.O. often. Bryson played as a true freshman so we attended most every home game. But this time, our delay had nothing to do with the N.O. airport and everything to do with severe storms in Atlanta! We were grounded indefinitely before we ever boarded. The three of us, (Gary, Brandon and I) stuck at the N.O. airport, like a chunk of chewed bubble gum on the sole of your shoe. Now if we were lucky, we might catch the last quarter of the 2ad biggest game of the year. For us, the Liberty Bowl ranked #1! Naturally.

Disgusted and disappointed we sat-down at our designated gate, near the end of the corridor. Silence. Complete silence between us. Finally in the distance, I heard a faint familiar sound. It sounded like a bunch of bees buzzing. I followed my perked-up ears back toward the middle of the airport. Right there staring me straight-on was an open expanse of a bar lounge area. Front and center, suspended behind the bar, a huge television set blaring out an extremely familiar sound. It was the Super Bowl game! Yippee-ki-yay! The bar in the airport would solve our problem! It was the first time I ever thought a bar just might be a saving grace.

Brandon sporting a Tulane jersey with his high school number

I went running back down the corridor to fetch the fellas. “Hey guys, game’s on!” Brandon followed me, Gar stayed at our gate to make sure we wouldn’t miss our flight, if and when they announced our departure time.

Brandon and I took a seat in the back of the lounge area and quickly eyed the scoreboard. Denver was ahead 17-0 in the first quarter. Bummer!

A waitress soon came and asked how old Brandon was and what drinks we wanted to order. I smiled sheepishly and shook my head, “Oh no honey, we just want to see the game.” She indicated that we could not be there unless I ordered a drink. “Oh, ok then, we’ll have Coke-cola’s with a twist of lemon—actually make mine a Shirley Temple and his, a Roy Rodgers.” She said it had to have alcohol in it. “You’re kidding, right? “Well, indeed she was not kidding. She asked us to get up. These seats are reserved for those interested in adult drinks. Seriously?

Honestly, the lounge area had maybe four or five people in it at the most, with plenty of empty chairs. I imagined everyone in their right mind was at home, at a Super Bowl party, or either in Miami watching the game live. We got up and walked out to the floor tile area and stood, still in view of the game on the bar TV. No longer in the bar lounge, or on the carpet. This bar lounge had no door—it had three open sides to the mall or middle areas of the airport, the divide was the carpet for the lounge area, and the tile for the airport area.

Did somebody call security? Apparently they did. One security policeman soon came on the scene. A rather short fellow with a big bouncy belly and a bald head told me we had to move. I tried to explain to him that we were from Atlanta, wanted to see as much of the Super Bowl game as possible because our flight had been delayed, and that my son just visited Tulane, he may play football for them, and that we meant no harm and moved out of the bar area as asked. “Sir, I do not drink and I don’t intend to start now. I ordered Colas.” He got quite burly with me and spouted off something about arresting me.

I gotta say, by that time—big mistake! We had not offended anyone or given him cause for his outrage. At that point my heels smoldered to a fire and honey, I dug in! I thought we just might play the Super Bowl twist right then and there. A twist of strong-wills!! This guy was just itching to throw his weight around. Well, he picked the wrong lady!

He grabbed my arm, I jerked it away and said, “Hey, what’s that?” peering my eyes behind him. He twisted around so fast that his belly needed time to catch up with his chest. Once he turned back around, I didn’t move a mussel and stared him down with daggers so sharp I could have chipped ice with my eyes. I towered over this dude and dared him to touch me again. Somebody wake me up! Surely this is just a bad dream.

I then reached into my purse to get pen and paper. I was going to write down his name and badge number. But, by the time I looked up again, he had turned his badge over so I could not get his information. I’m sure he realized he was really in the wrong and did not want this reported to his superiors.

He told Brandon to get out of here and take his mama with him. Brandon, the ever present force, never said a word up to this point or left my side. He responded, “Sir, she is my Mom and I’m not taking her anywhere.” I was just dumb-founded. I couldn’t believe it escalated to this and I was sober as a preacher passing the collection plate! Gee, what do they do with the drunks?

Finally, out of respect and protection for Brandon I backed-off and bowed-out. I know Brandon would have, could have, taken him, but in the end, who are we!?? We are not the kind of people who go around physically fighting or bullying other people!! I sure didn’t want Brandon to literally fight this ding-bat-dude. We’d never been in a situation like that before, or since, and who I cared about was Brandon.

Law, have mercy! Sometimes ya feel like you’ve just got to stand your ground, especially when the opposing person is apparently, brainless or compensating for some childhood complex which is, in the end, even more reason to back-off. He just didn’t have the capability to do his job in a suitable manner. We all know who really has the stronger will!!

This incident is the most laughable thing that ever happened to us on any recruiting trip! To this day we still chuckle over “Mama’s smack-down, Super Bowl Twist in New Orleans!”

In all seriousness folks, for those of you flying in to New Orleans for this Super Sunday—beware! That poor ol security policeman with the big bouncy belly and baled head just might be lookin’ for all those non-alcoholic drinkers in the bar. Ya sure don’t wanta find out how to implement the Super Bowl Twist and miss the real thing!

Filed Under: Atlanta Falcons, Clemson Tigars, Coke-cola, college football recruiting, committed Christian, Denver, Green Wave, Liberty Bowl, New Orleans, NFC Championship, NFL, Super Bowl, Tommy Bowden, Tulane University

About Candy

Candy A. Westbrook is a writer, newspaper columnist, and speaker whose passion lingers on the football field. She inspires families of all sports, but at her heart is her love for those boys of fall.

Helmet Kisses – The Heart Behind The Gridiron

Candy is working hard on her football memoir, Helmet Kisses. Make sure to watch for news and sign up for Candy’s newsletter so you never miss an update!

Helmet Kisses - The Heart Behind The Gridiron

About Candy

Candy A. Westbrook is a writer, newspaper columnist, and speaker whose passion lingers on the football field. She inspires families of all sports, but at her heart is her love for those boys of fall. College football recruiting can leave parents dangling on a zipline indefinitely and need someone on the other side who gets it. She inspires parents to go the distance because, “the topic may be football, but the real subject is life.”

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