I Hate Football!
Yes, that was me at the Titans’ opening game last
week. So what? That does not mean that I do not hate football. It is
just that I had not done much of anything for a long time and I really
needed to get out.
We got there early to find parking, but still had to
walk for miles to get to the stadium. We were looking for a place nearby
to eat breakfast, but couldn’t find one. I was starving. No wonder I
hate football!
Okay, so I ended up eating popcorn for breakfast. So
what? You eat corn flakes all the time and think nothing of it, don’t
you? Is that much different from popcorn? I’ll admit the diet coke was
not my usual choice of a breakfast beverage, but I had to drink
something, didn’t I?
It was a hot day. It was a really hot day. Okay, it
was sizzling. It definitely was not football weather. When I think of
football, I think of shivering and drinking hot coffee to keep warm
while my toes freeze off. It was much too hot a day to be playing
football. As I sat there sweltering in the sun with perspiration running
down my back, I hated football more than ever.
When the game finally started, the Titans didn’t
play worth a hoot. They got so far behind by halftime that I figured
they didn’t have a chance of winning. After every play, somebody was
lying on the field injured, and it was always Tennessee. Titans were
dropping like flies.
I was getting sunburned and wanted to leave. My
friend, of course, was enjoying the stupid game. He bribed me with one
of those $5 cokes to get me to stay, and didn’t even care about how
much I hate football.
As I looked around the crowd, I noticed that most
everyone was wearing Titan colors. As usual, I was out of fashion. It
seems the big thing now is to wear a jersey with the name of your
favorite player on the back. I wonder how much
those jerseys cost? I do sort of like them, even though I hate
football.
As the game began again, the repugnant college-age commentators sitting behind us got wound up on beer and began spouting
their opinions of each play. Why do these obnoxious people always seem
to show up at ballgames? And why do they always have to sit behind me?
But the game was staring to pick up now and the Titans were making a
comeback. Yes, I was screaming and yelling. I figured I might as well
join in and cheer since everyone else was – even though I hate football.
As the excitement level in the stadium grew, the
yelling was so loud that my eardrums were vibrating, especially when the
other team was trying to make a play. They tell me that fans yell loudly
so the opposing team can’t hear the directions for their plays. Seems
like cheating to me, but the fans didn’t care. Obviously, they don’t
hate football like I do.
By the last of the fourth the enthusiasm was intense.
Yes, I was starting to enjoy the game. Hard to believe, I know, but you
just had be there to understand. I was almost having fun yelling and
screaming for every 10 yards gained, and trying hard to hate football.
When the Titans scored that final touchdown the crowd
went wild. Fireworks exploded and the stadium pulsated with noise. We
win! And this is only the first game of the season! Talk around
Tennessee is already about the Titans going to the Superbowl this year.
Hate football? Me? Oh, yes, I almost forgot.
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Copyright 2002 Sheila Moss
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