Saturday, September 4, 2010
The story of why I no longer go to the football games
Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story- Mark Twain
The first summer after Schroeder and I were married he offered to take me to a BYU football game. I acquiesced- and now I don't go anymore.
We had really good seats, thanks to uncle Russ and his 4 sets of season tickets, the problem was not with where we were sitting, it was the people behind us. Picture the meanest old grumpy guy that you know, and grumpify him a million more times.
Some people are not aware that there is a boundary of space, a bubble if you will, that surrounds other people and that it should not be crossed, smashed or otherwise damaged. The man sitting behind me was one of those unaware people.
I endured the knobby knees in the center of my back for more than half of the game, the other half I was being yelled at by him.
Every time the Cougs got within 15 yards of the end-zone everyone would stand up, making it necessary for me to stand up as well, which then earned me a yank on the back of my shirt and an angrily yelled "DOWN IN FRONT".
Right, like me sitting down is somehow magically going to enable you, grumpy Gus, to be able to see the field, through all of the other people's behinds who are standing up too.
I don't think I've ever felt so negatively about an old person, aside from driving behind one, in my whole livin' life. And these were season tickets people. I'm positive I don't possess the will power not to say excessively snarky and sassy things to my elders, for a whole season in front of that guy.
So that game I endured: the sun in my eyes, a hard seat for my bum- since I didn't know about the chair renting thing, the grouchy man's knees in my back- and him yelling at me, and my husband looking at me funny and then pretending not to know me when I accidentally cheered for the wrong team- it was only once though.
After that I told him we'd have a better marriage if he took a friend from then on. And the nice thing is, is that we do. I happily oblige to become a football widow for the season, if I never have to do that again.