Football Season is Back!
I feel it before I even glance at a schedule—the hum, the ritual, the way a whole city leans toward the stadium lights. And right alongside the excitement is the ache: I miss my mom.
The last game I watched with her was the Eagles winning the Super Bowl. Pure joy. Pure Philly. It wasn’t just a win; it was ours. A snapshot I carry everywhere—louder than a highlight reel, softer than a whisper.
For the first 17 years of my life, football dictated everything: weekends, dinners, the calendar on the fridge, the conversations in the car. Here’s why—football wasn’t a hobby in our house; it was the family business and our love language. My grandfather, Leonard Tose, owned the Philadelphia Eagles. My mom, Susan Tose Spencer, broke barriers as the NFL’s first female GM. That meant our seasons were built around kickoff times and travel days, draft weekends and training camps, charity events, film talk over dinner, and a steady stream of coaches, players, staff, and community partners who felt like extended family. The game set the tempo. It taught me how to prepare, how to regroup, and how to believe in the fourth quarter.
Go Panthers!
Marnie Schneider at the first football game of the season with her children.
Those memories are stored so deeply that when the first whistle blows, I’m instantly back there—kid eyes wide, heart trained to believe in comebacks. Now, with my mom gone, it sometimes feels like a piece of my childhood shifted. Being someone’s daughter in the everyday way—that’s the past now. It’s hard to say out loud, but it’s true. And still, I’m endlessly grateful for the decades I got to be Susan Tose Spencer’s daughter. #susantosespencer
It’s been a year of tremendous loss—heavy and real. And still, football does what it does for me: it gives me something to cheer about. I say this in my GameDay books all the time because it’s true: sports are sports edutainment—lessons in teamwork, grit, and hope disguised as touchdowns and timeouts.
I felt that hope again at the first preseason game with my kids—Jonathan, Goldie, and Leo. Sitting together, passing snacks, inventing superstitions that absolutely work (don’t @ me). Preseason might not count in the standings, but it counts for us. And it reminded me of something else: the right friends know what your heart needs, often before you ask.
Grief changes how I watch pro football. I notice the sideline calm when the clock gets mean. I notice how a locker room holds together after a tough quarter. I watch captains steady the huddle and think, that’s how you lead when it matters. I hear my mom in that steadiness: do the simple things well, leave every place better than you found it, keep your head and your heart, and keep going.
Is it going to be hard? Sure. We all face challenges. But we persevere like MVPs. We chase our dreams, protect the precious memories, and remember our people are cheering from the best seats in the house. I believe that with my whole heart.
My game plan for this season:
• Show up—for my team, my kids, my friends, myself.
• Cheer loud.
• Be kind (in the stands, online, everywhere).
• Text “You watching?” to the people I love.
• Tell the stories out loud so they stay alive.
I’m grateful for another season. Grateful for my children beside me. Grateful for a city that knows how to believe. And grateful for my mom, who taught me to love this game and these people with everything I’ve got.
