Sam and I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday's walk. We're having a typical Indiana mid-winter thaw these days, warm enough for just a light-jacket, yet with enough of a chilly edge to the air that February never goes far from my thoughts. The muddy ground sticks to Sam's paws, only to come off on the one stubborn patch of ice that clings to the front walk.
The precocious neighbor child spotted the two of us and ran over to scratch Sam's ears. She loves dogs, and thinks that I am cool (me?) because I can recite a few of Shel Silverstein's poems. "So, Lemming, are you excited about tonight's game?"
I am not cool. I only knew about Super Bowl Sunday happening yesterday and the names of the two teams involved because I read blogs. Luckily I have gleaned enough information (one of the first processes you master in graduate school) from said reading that I could respond, "why yes! Go Pats!" She sighed. "Do you really think so?"
By now Sam was a furry mass of canine delight, rubbing his head against her hands.
The truth: I think televised football is one of the dullest things on the planet. To borrow George Will's line, football is violence punctuated by committee meetings. Watching the game in person is much more interesting. Without commentators and random lines drawn all over the field, I can simply sit back and enjoy the game. If I want to watch my team's cheerleaders challenge the other team's cheerleaders to a push-up contest, instead of focusing upon the second down, I can. (Yes, I do know what a second down is, thank you very much. I heard the snickers.) The scoreboard is much more intersting in person, and I love all of the noise.
Super Bowl parties are great fun because there's always plenty of good food and plenty of laughter at the commercials. On only one occasion did I ever attend a party at which people watched the game all the way through.
This is not what I said to the precocious neighbor child, who has but to ask and Sam would reveal the location of his Swiss bank account. "Well, you see, many years ago my church youth group had a Super Bowl Party. I've forgotten the name of the other team, but the Patriots lost by a lot. Since the Red Sox won this year, I'd like to see New England win, too."
Preccocious one furrows her forehead. "Lemming, is Boston in New England?"
Words Written: zero (more freelance work)
Lessons Graded: thirty-six
2 comments:
lemming:
I will make you a football fan yet...it is my final mission in life.
Before you know it, you will be sweating the point spread because you have money bet on the big game (heck, on second thought, that would make you a bigger fan than me, I don't bet on games).
At least I will convince you not to refer to huddles as 'committees'! :)
Ah, yes, the youth group Super Bowl Party. I remember that one. Not being up on football myself, I chose to root for the "under dog." Which ever team got the first touch down, I would root for the other team. That team one!
Of course, everyone at the party thought I meant to root for the team with the first touch down and all accused me of switching horses.
Never much liked Super Bowl parties. Give me a stadium of cheering fans with cheerleaders that are there to lead cheers and fans who know them all.
Give me a college football game and let me sit on the student side. The Alumni are so boring!
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