Nothing will cheer a man up quite like some motherly love. And after Green Bay's heartbreaking loss to the Seattle Seahawks in Sunday's NFC championship game, that's just what Packers running back Eddie Lacy got.

The 24-year-old Lacy posted to Instagram his lovely text conversation with his mother, Wanda.

The first few texts are from pregame and the last is after the Packers' loss.

The first message, about playing in the mud and rain, is likely a reference to the weather in Seattle (it rained during most of the afternoon).

Lacy hails from southern Louisiana, and the final text is a reference to one of region's specialty dishes.

Lacy finished the game with 21 carries for 73 yards. On the season Lacy finished seventh in the NFL with 1,139 rushing yards and was considered one of the more prominent Pro Bowl snubs.

A day before the Seahawks defeated Carolina in an NFC divisional playoff game, Pete Carroll was having a great conversation about coaching tactics -- with a woman whose Twitter bio begins: "Mother. Writer. Poop-stain Fighter."

Annie Reneau, a mom of three children in Pullman, Washington, writes a blog called A huge Seahawks fan, Reneau just wrote a blog entry titled 12th Man Mom: How The Seahawks Are Making Me A Better Parent.

"I started seeing parallels with things in parenting, about being positive and letting your kids be who they are," Reneau told KREM TV in Spokane.

Carroll responded with a tweet to endorse Reneau's blog post.

And then, as KREM reports, Carroll took a break from preparing for the Panthers to call Reneau.

Reneau said Carroll wrapped up the call by suggesting she turn her blog content into a book, and referred her to someone in the Seahawk organization who could help with that.

Here's the full report from KREM:

Among the 10 points of comparisons that Reneau between her parenting and Carroll's coaching is building confidence and trust:

I love that Pete Carroll ties confidence to trust and makes them (almost) the ultimate goal of his program. Players perform when they know they can achieve excellence and when they know their coach will do whatever he can to help them get there. Pete Carroll is the Seahawks’ biggest fan and their loudest cheerleader. Players give their best because it’s expected, but also because they are inspired.

Kids really aren’t any different, are they? Sure, you can push kids with tough love and motivate them with fear and shame. That’s how some NFL coaches get results from their teams, too. But I prefer Pete Carroll’s positive approach, which clearly works and is much more pleasant for all involved. I want my kids to have no doubt that I believe in them, to know that I always have their best interest at heart, and to trust in my leadership.

The sports world can hardly handle one LeBron James, but it is not far from another one bursting onto the basketball scene.

The Cleveland Cavaliers star's 10-year-old son, LeBron James Jr. (aka Bronny), shares both a name and a game with his old man. Bronny and his teammates on the nationally ranked Gulf Coast Blue Chips earned a shoutout from the elder James after taking home the championship at the Ronald Searles Holiday Classic in Houston.

Bronny shows flashes of his dad with several of his moves, including a sweet jumper in traffic at the 1:10 mark and a brilliant behind-the-back pass at 1:30. Already taller than most of his teammates, Bronny might one day meet or eclipse his father's 6-foot-8 frame.

News clips of Bronny have appeared with increasing frequency over the past few years. In 2012 he became the star of a viral video after sinking a trick shot. Earlier this year Ohio State coach Thad Matta revealed that Bronny will one day be on his recruiting radar (if he isn't already).

While his dad recently switched back to No. 23, Bronny wore No. 0 at the Searles tournament, drawing a comparison to another well-known No. 0, Russell Westbrook:

Carlos Boozer's effort to help raise money in the fight against sickle cell disease isn't just a charitable endeavor. It's a personal mission.

Boozer's oldest son Carmani was born with sickle cell in 2006. An innovative treatment helped cure Carmani.

About a year after Carmani was born, Boozer and his now ex-wife had twins, Cameron and Cayden. Doctors froze the blood of the twins' umbilical cord. Cameron was a match with Carmani for a bone-marrow transplant. Doctors used stem cells from Cameron's cord blood in the transplant with Carmani.

In the video above, Boozer tells the story in more depth and explains why he's excited to be involved with St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.

According to the National Institute of Health, sickle cell disease "is estimated to occur in 1 in 500 African Americans."

To make a donation as part of Boozer's campaign, go to the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital website.

All around the country, old friends reunite for a game of football during Thanksgiving. Some play tackle, some have flags, some play two hand touch. Some have five Mississippi, some have six. Some have first downs, and some have score or you bust. Some have blockers and some have blitzes. But I don't know how other games work, I only know about the Turkey Bowl.

It all started in Sharon, Mass., sometime in the mid-to-late 1980s, and I had nothing to do with it. In fact, my first appearance in The Turkey Bowl was not until a few years ago. It’s unclear how it started, and it was never initially intended to be an ongoing tradition. But each year, the event happened and it ultimately became more than just a football game.

My older brother Jon and his friends started the game back when they were in junior high school. They played at Thanksgiving, Christmas and whenever they could get enough people together. And over time, Thanksgiving was the holiday when everyone was around.

I was always envious of my brother and his friends. They were six years older than me, and I looked up to them. Sometimes they let me go bowling with them or to Burger King, but no way was I ever involved in the Turkey Bowl. I had my own friends, but there was something special about this group of guys. While my friends were scattered all over the place, these guys were one giant clique. It was really a remarkable thing.

As the years passed, the Turkey Bowl made a name for itself. While my Mom made sure the Thanksgiving feast was in place, my brother and his friends made sure The Turkey Bowl was ready to go as well.

There were two captains (usually the two QBs) chosen in October, and then the teams were picked from there. Once the teams were constructed, the trash talk began. Phone calls and letters (remember, this was well before email) constituted for smack talk. It was rumored that teams would have secret meetings to set up trick plays, audibles and touchdown dances.

The game was on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. A dozen guys showed up every year around 11 a.m. There were other games going on, but somehow the field always seemed reserved for this Turkey Bowl. As time passed, and one of the players became a cop, the field was officially reserved. When he flipped his siren and parked his cop car in front of the field, it was clear these guys should not be messed with.

Other evolutions included uniforms and touchdown dances. At first, guys donned random football jerseys including Brian Bosworth, Bubby Brister and Drew Bledsoe. As the game became more traditional, players were given official, custom made, reversible black and white Turkey Bowl jerseys. And the touchdown celebrations were a product of the era -- in the 80’s it was the Icky Shuffle; in the 90s it was the Terrell Davis salute; in the 2000s it was something inspired by Ochocinco or T.O; and in the 2010s the Gronk Spike took over.

As the game progressed, so did the fans. Friends and families watched and cheered from the sidelines each year. People took pictures and stood patiently awaiting a triple-reverse lateral flea-flicker to finally work.

Like I said before, I never played in the game, I was only a fan. But when I was 15, I became a part of it. I was nominated to be the cameraman. It didn't take much arm pulling for me to volunteer. Heck, I wanted to be included in The Turkey Bowl since I was a little kid.

I stood in the freezing cold, rain, and wind and pulled off my best Scorsese/Spielberg impersonation for the next few years. I hoped my work would somehow end up on NFL Films. It didn't, but Matt, one of the co-founders, cut/edited my work to create The Turkey Bowl Plays of the Decade set to the soundtrack of Rocky IV.

And after the game, that night, the guys threw some cash my way, introduced me to alcohol and older women, and even bought me my very own Turkey Bowl jersey. The after-Turkey Bowl parties were legendary at one point. Everyone showed up. As they complained about controversial calls and how sore they were, they watched The Turkey Bowl film footage, and also voted on the MVP. As the cameraman, I got in on the action, and even garnered a few votes myself.

As technology improved, the games were a little easier to arrange. The Turkey Bowl could be organized through the Internet, and the trash talking could be done online. The fan base grew -- friends and family showed up in the freezing cold because after all, it was The Turkey Bowl. There was even an article published in the famous Sharon Advocate.

It was seven years ago when I got the call. They finally needed me to play in The Turkey Bowl. I had been licking my chops for years to play in the game. I would officially be part of it in its 18th year.

In my seven years of play, I've scored a few touchdowns and let up a few as well. Even though these guys were older than me, they could still play. My favorite personal memory was a 50-yard end around for a touchdown. My lead blocker, Lee (another little brother), paved the way for me, and I rumbled untouched along the right side of the field. We slapped five mid-run, and I smiled widely as I ran into the end zone. Touchdown! It was pure bliss.

The 25th year of the Turkey Bowl is in place for this Saturday. My jersey hangs in my closet at home ready to be worn. The same dozen or so guys will be ready as well. Everyone will be a little older, but they’ll still be ready to play.

And we’ll all be ready for the after game feast at the local pizza spot, Town Spa, which has taken the place of the Saturday night kegger. It's a great time for friends and families to catch up, talk about football, and reminisce about tradition.

And even though the fan base is not as passionate as say ten years ago, it must be noted that the fan base has expanded. It's not just parents, siblings, and old friends anymore. Now, it's children too. They watch proudly and hope to one day follow in their Daddy's footsteps and play in The Turkey Bowl. And if these guys can last another few years or so, that’s exactly what will happen.

Jason Brown had already drawn a lot of attention for his decision to leave the NFL and become a farmer that donates his crops.

Then his wife had a baby. On their 1,000-acre farm.

And Brown was the one who handled the delivery.

After Brown's wife started into labor, assistance was slow to reach the farm in Louisburg, N.C. The labor moved so quickly that by the time help arrived, Brown had already welcomed his son into the world.

"It was an incredible experience," Brown told The News & Observer. "It was unbelievable."

The couple had planned to do a home birth, but Brown had no intention of taking the snap.

This might not be the last you hear about Jason Brown. He reportedly has interest from several TV outlets to do a reality series focused on his family and his efforts to combat hunger by farming for free.

But the former St. Louis Rams center told those outlets that he needs a little time with his infant before thinking about reality TV.

The plan was to get a snack before the game started. But on the concourse of Kauffman Stadium, Stephanie Hetherington had a troubling realization.

"I think my water broke," she said to her husband, Jason.

Although the two had joked for at least a week in advance that they would be having their baby at Kauffman Stadium, the playful banter suddenly seemed a reality.

But this was Game 1 of the World Series, Kansas City's first in 29 years. Stephanie didn't want to miss it. She decided they would go back to their seats, watch the start of the game and play it by ear.

Before they even sat down, her body was telling her it was time to go. They walked out before the first pitch, going against the flow of fans leaving the stadium.

Jason said the stadium personnel grabbed them a golf cart to shuttle them back to her car. All the while, though, Stephanie was distraught.

"My wife was basically in tears," he said.

They watched Game 1 from the hospital as their third child's arrival drew close. Even though the Royals went on to lose that game, Stephanie wanted the baby to be born the same night at the World Series game.

"At 11:30 she looked at the doctor and said, 'we're having this baby tonight," Jason said.

Ali Hetherington arrived at 11:49.

Jason and Stephanie had already planned on getting tickets for Game 6, but his employer, Burns & McDonnell, ended up having space in the company's dugout suites behind third base.

Jason and Stephanie got to watch Game 6 from that field-level vantage point -- with Ali in tow for her first Royals baseball game.

"She’s got her little Royals shirt on," Jason said.

Pretty good start to your first week of life.

Here's how much Gloria Vaughn loves to watch her grandson, Kevin Hensley, play soccer: Five years ago she flipped her car on the road while driving to his high school match. When the emergency responders arrived, they found her uninjured, but asked her to have a relative come and take her home.

Disappointed but uninjured, Vaughan called her daughter -- Kevin's mother -- for a ride. When her daughter arrived, Vaughan got in the car and asked: Can't you just take me to Kevin's game?

"I enjoy watching him," Vaughan says now, "and I know he worries a bit when I'm not at his game."

Five years later, little has changed: Gloria Vaughan just wants to watch her grandson play soccer. It's a bigger challenge than it seems. Since Hensley's tournaments often take him overseas, his 74-year-old grandmother is forced to make do with inconsistent Internet feeds, and sometimes just by following the matches on Twitter.

Vaughan doesn't complain, though, because she knows what a gift it is that Hensley is able to play soccer at all. Those dreams were in serious doubt eight years ago, when a freak accident during a soccer match caused a stroke that weakened the right side of Hensley's body.

After coming home from a soccer match where he had whipped his head brutally after going up for a header, Hensley collapsed onto the floor.

His parents were out Christmas shopping at the time. When they returned home, they found their son semi-conscious on the ground, unable to coherently speak. He was 14 at the time.

Hensley was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a stroke caused by his injury at the game. The stroke hindered the motor functioning of his right side and required months of rehab and recovery, but the partial paralysis wasn't enough to stop him from finishing his high school soccer career.

He even earned a soccer scholarship to Carson-Newman University in Tennessee, but had to quit after his memory problems affected his academic standing.

"I would sit there and study for four hours at a time, and I wouldn't remember anything," Hensley says.

When he left school, it seemed like Hensley's soccer career was over -- at least from a competitive standpoint. In Memphis he found work as an assistant soccer coach for the Mid-South Football Club, and invested himself into that profession. He was blindsided earlier this year when he got a phone call from Stuart Sharp.

Sharp had just been named head coach for the U.S. Paralympic National Soccer team, and he had stumbled across Hensley's story online. The Paralympic National team is comprised of individuals who are ambulatory but have a physical challenge resulting from cerebral palsy, a traumatic brain injury, or stroke. The coach invited Hensley out to California to train with the team.

The 22-year-old leaped at the opportunity, and he hasn't looked back. With the Paralympic team, he estimates he spends about 100 days a year away from home. International tournaments have taken him to Spain, Canada and England, so far, with more trips on the horizon.

Those far-flung trips are great for getting to see the world, but they make it tough for Vaughan to keep up. At 74, long international flights are too much of a physical burden. But when she found out about her grandson's tournament in Toronto, Vaughan knew that was a possibility. Then, her senior living facility presented her with an opportunity to "make a wish."

Vaughan didn't have to think twice.

A few weeks before the tournament was to take place, Vaughan was told that her wish was granted: Brookdale Senior Living, in partnership with Wish of a Lifetime, would be paying to send her to Toronto to watch Hensley play.

"I was over-the-moon happy," Vaughan says.

Vaughan flew up and watched the U.S. Paralympic team compete in two matches. After one of the game, she was brought onto the field to meet the coaches, the team manager, and every player on the team. The group gave her an autographed flag and posed for pictures with her.

"It made me feel so special, and of course and I can't help but say the whole team earned a place in my heart," Vaughan says. "They've all got a story of their own that's so much richer than mine, because they've worked so hard to get where they are."

Hensley is quick to point out that his grandmother does know a thing or two about survival: By his count, she's survived quadruple bypass surgery, breast cancer, diabetes and back surgery.

"She's been a constant battler," Hensley says.

Vaughan has also been someone her grandson has always turned to for comfort and advice, even on his toughest days.

"From what she's been through to what I've been through, she's always been my crutch, my best friend my entire life," Hensley says. "She's always been there whenever I needed to talk about sports, about life."

After a third-place finish at the Toronto tournament Hensley's Paralympic squad looks ahead to qualifying for the 2016 Paralympics World Cup in Brazil. That journey will take the team to far-off places around the globe -- and, hopefully, back somewhere close to home.

After what she considers "the best trip of my life," Vaughn is determined: she wants to watch Hensley play in person again. Almost a month after her wish was granted, the grandmother still feels like she's living a dream.

"No one's gone and interviewed me before," she says. "Even when I turned my car over, they didn't interview me."

Terry Pegula had some important news to share with his daughter, so he sent her a three-word text that pretty much summed it up.

Pegula is the billionaire owner of the Buffalo Sabres and, as of Wednesday, the Buffalo Bills. After the sale of the franchise to Pegula was unanimously approved, Pegula sent this text this his 20-year-old daughter, Jesse:

Not a bad text to receive during tennis practice. Jesse, by the way, is a professional tennis player who trains in South Florida.

It wasn't as if this was a surprise -- most people assumed the sale would go through. But you've got to love Pegula's concise way of delivering the big news.

Pegula and his wife, Kim, bought the Bills for $1.4 billion from the family of late owner Ralph Wilson. Wilson paid $25,000 to buy the team in 1959.

With the Mariners at 79-64, postseason baseball is on the minds of most Seattle fans. On Monday, the Mariners stretched their success with a 4-1 home win over the Astros. Along the way, Logan Morrison hit a ground rule double in the second inning.

The ball found its way to a man, presumably a father, holding a baby.

The baby, rocking Steve Bartman headphones and possibly a onesie, gets an close-up view of the ball…and takes advantage. The baby, as many babies would, decides to take a chomp at the ball. While there is no clear sign of this baby having teeth grown in already, he or she brings his or her best bite to the baseball.

It does not get much more hipster than a Mariners fan taking his baby to a Monday evening baseball game with the boys. Perhaps the mother would have been appalled at her child licking dirt from Safeco Field.

Most important to Mariners fans was the bite to Felix Hernandez's ball. The former Cy Young Award winner pitched shutout innings in the victory (although, he recorded a no decision).

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