Kristin Burke/Third Rail Studios

You couldn’t get Mike Tetreau, who runs a real estate company, more excited about a subject if the for-sale house inventory in Fairfield fell by half. What makes this guy, who doesn’t have any kids, so enthusiastic? Well, kids. And football. And a Fairfield phenomenon called Pop Warner.

“So we’re doing this play, see, and I go out and I tell the kids that we’re going on three instead of one, see?” I assume he’s talking about the number that will cause the center on one of the football teams he coaches to snap the ball back to the quarterback and put everything in motion. But the number is important because if some kid rushes ahead on “one,” say, the whole team will be offsides and there will be a penalty. (This is the last technical explanation you’re going to get in this article because I’m an infield fly rule guy myself). While he’s telling this story, he’s grinning in anticipation, hands waving almost spilling his iced tea. “Well, these kids are like ten years old, right, and you can’t trust that they’re going to remember which way to run sometimes, let alone a change in the play. So I’m walking back to the sidelines praying that they’ll remember.” The grin widens. He’s into it now. “So I turn around and here’s the quarterback going from player to player on his team, grabbing their facemask, pulling them close and saying, ‘Remember, it’s on THREE.’” He pauses partly for effect, partly in pure satisfaction. “And I knew at that moment that that kid had just learned about leadership.”

The other two guys at the table, Steve Finnegan, President of the Fairfield Pop Warner League, and Jack Tetreau, Mike’s brother, who is the Athletic Director, nodded appreciatively. They had their own moments to share. Apparently, that’s the reason why they collectively spend coal-miner hours each week making sure that Fairfield has one of the best Pop Warner Leagues in the state, maybe in the country. And it’s the same reason that fathers and mothers all over town spend another zillion hours on coaching and practice and going to games. The mystery, though, is why eight- through 12-year-old boys and girls, who you can hardly get to empty the dishwasher on a good day, would make a similar commitment of time and a whole lot of effort to play football or to cheer for those who do. Shouldn’t they be out getting into trouble somewhere like when we were kids?