Friday Night Football

From the school's Facebook page.

Ritchie County High School/Middle School is just on the other side of Highway 50 and some of these pleasant Friday nights, I’ve heard a faint roar from the crowd at a football game or heard a particularly enthusiastic drum beat, or maybe a tuba blast, as the band kicked it into high gear. It all had me thinking that small town life really hasn’t changed all that much… High School sports still dominate the social culture in our heartland.  I’ve even been thinking it would be fun to go to a game.

From the school's Facebook page.  Looks like the whole county
came out for this game!!

On another Friday night.

When it isn’t raining (it is tonight).  Because, you know, I might melt or something if I get wet.

Now, I wonder if that’s something I really want to do.  Friday night in early October means football and when it's the only game in town, you hear about it.  Sometimes when you don't really anticipate it, even. Coming home my only strong radio station shifted from light rock to a 2-hour long pre-game show for… High School Football.  And I actually found myself listening with morbid fascination!

Still shot from a game tape found on Youtube.com

Some of the standout comments:

• There’s a Catholic School somewhere near-ish named Madonna.  Apparently, their school color is blue because they are widely referred to as the Blue Dons. I’m not Catholic so I don’t know for sure… but isn’t it kind of rude to call the Holy Mother by a dude’s name?

• Our local team must be having an off year.  One of the announcers said tonight’s game in Ellenboro is the kind where the other team should practice plays they aren’t very good at.

• Technical and un-sportsman like conduct fouls are being called against half-time band performances and Homecoming activities when they don’t clear the field in precisely their allotted 20 minutes.  One guy went so far as to say there should be some electronic way to tip the field so they all slid into the end zone and could get sorted out later.  Another called for directors to come up with a universal signal for “ band geeks to just forget how it looks and get off the field in the quickest direction possible!” because a marching band stayed in formation through a hurried exit.

With those comments, the statistical analysis they were providing of teams, coaches, and individual players, and really just the overall tone of the show I had to wonder when High School sports got to be such serious business.  I’ve watched NFL commentary that was less detailed and critical.  Seriously, individual players had their skills shredded.  Coach’s competency was questioned.  Officials were criticized both over calls they made on field and judgment calls they didn’t make the way the commentators wished.  (The judgement call was over allowing a game to proceed during inclement weather because the rain, and the resulting mud on the field, affected who won.  They went on to criticize the losing quarterback’s mentality for dropping a ball when his hands were caked with mud because he should be smart enough to tuck multiple towels in his waistband to wipe his hands and just toss one when it got too dirty.)  But I think what bothered me most was the praise for “playing a very physical game” when one team inflicted multiple injuries on an opposing team and ruined any chance for them to play in the state championship tournament that year.

When did HIGH SCHOOL sports get so serious?   And when did adults get so mean about it?

Or have I really blocked so many unpleasant memories from my childhood that it only seems like I grew up inside a Norman Rockwell painting?  I don’t know.  But if this is today’s normal, I will happily move back under my happy little rock!

People of the Georgia Dome

Last night, Derek and I gave his sister, Brittaney, her Christmas present.  Yes, I know it's not even Thanksgiving quite yet but what she wanted more than anything was to go to the Saints vs Falcons game.  And it's pretty much always held in mid-November.  And since the Falcons are having a year that could most kindly be summed up as crappy, tickets this game at The Georgia Dome were affordable.  So... early Christmas for her!

It was my first NFL game.  I had a great time!  The Saints won.  But at least the Falcons showed up for this rivalry game and made it fun to watch.  Final score:  Falcons 13 - Saints 17.

It's important to know that I've married into a family of fanatical Saints fans.  And have found their 'Who Dat!' and 'Geaux!!' terminology pretty amusing.  I wouldn't say it quite that way to them - they see the Saints, and really all things New Orleans, as a pretty big deal.  They all have team jerseys and wear them every game day.  Derek's mom even has a Christmas tree, that stays up all year, decked out in Saints colors and memorabilia.  So while they were there totally for the football, I had almost as much fun people watching some of the crazy fans a crowd like that attracts.  We were only steps from the car when a friendly gentleman asked "How you guys doing?"  Politely, I answered that we were fine and then inquired about him.  He paused and then said with the tiniest of stutters "I'm drunk."  Then he walked on up the sidewalk in the opposite direction from us with no telltale staggering.

He was far from the only person we encountered who'd over-imbibed during the evening!  See the top of a random stranger's head in the bottom of my picture?  He'd tipped back more than a few of whatever beer comes in blue aluminum bottles and, despite being a Falcons fan, was just incredibly happy to be there.  He hooted and hollered and danced in his seat whenever music played and at last call, tipped the beer concessionaire walking our section more than the bottle itself cost.  (And let me just say $7.50 for a bottle of beer qualifies as kinda sorta outrageous in my view!)

Righting the goal post
photographed by Cristi Ossim

At one point they had to pause the game for about 5 minutes to fix the goal post.  It was doing some drunken weaving itself...

Leaving the game, we were sucked up into a bigger huddle of Saints fans.  A lot of them had whistles and those party favors you blow into and were chanting "Who Dat?  We Dat!" and "Saints are goin' to the Superbowl!" all the way down the exit ramps.  It was fun to be in the middle of such a happy and excited crowd!

And I loved the costumes some people wore!!  Several of the women had these dainty little black lace parasols trimmed out with yellow and black feathers or had used gold glitter to make a fleur de lis on the fabric between each rib.  A few of the younger ladies donned gold sequined hot pants with their jerseys.  And one man, and both of his little boys, had long gold and black capes.

New Orleans seems to be more than a place... it's a whole different culture!  And those folks loudly and proudly carry it with them wherever they go!!

After we were outside and making our way back up to the car, a Falcons fan stepped in front of me.  He was decked out in head to toe red team gear, even with red facepaint.  He was complaining to his less flamboyantly dressed companions "I'm soooooo sick of always getting kicked in the teeth!!  Man... we're NEVER gonna win another game."  Then he went on to complain about the team's coach, who, according to the commentary on that sports talk radio channel Derek listens to, is too conservative with the plays.  (The primary example from last night:  At the end of the game, they were in a 4 and 15 situation.  He choose to try for a field goal that they missed.  Had they made it, they would have still been 2 points shy of winning.  Most fans and analysts think a better choice would have been to try for a TD.)

All in all, it was a GREAT night out!

Random-nimity

When I was a baby, not even big enough to remember her ever working on it, my Grandma Clarke made me a true patchwork quilt.  Still buried in one of the dozen boxes to be unpacked when I finally get my 'woman cave,' it's made of randomly shaped and sized pieces of silky fabric that came mostly from her dresses or the scraps of material left when she made a new one.  I can sort of remember her in a couple of the dresses and there are old black and white photos where you can match the fabric pattern up for a few more, but most of them totally escape my memory.

I was thinking about that quilt the other day and how the random acts of a life can be a lot like one of those 'crazy patch' quilts.

And that's what today is about...

Random things.

Not so much that they're too insignificant to be the topic of an entire blog post, or even Facebook update, just that the post never came together and materialized in a form I wanted to share.  Mostly it's little things...  Things like how luck works.

It's no secret that we are pretty desperately poor and really scraping to make bills each month.  That's part of what irritated me, though I kept silent about it, when Derek bought the occasional lottery ticket.  Except... last night he got a winning ticket!  One worth more than the $5 he put into it.  A LOT more!!

That's right!  $500, baby!!!

That makes the mortgage for November a whole lot easier!

And I put up the fridge magnets (FINALLY!) that I kept during last year's move.  My friend's son's pictures have been in these magnetic frames for... well, I don't really remember when I put them in the frames but it's been a long time.  Those little boys have long been grown men by now.

Nathan, the older one, used to call me whenever he could sneak it past mom's watchful eye.  It was a long distance call - they lived in Wyoming then and I still lived in Idaho.  He was polite and thoughtful, almost like an old-time suitor.  He never failed to inquire about my mom's health, the weather, work, our small black poodle...  For a little man, Nathan sure could carry on the grown up conversation!  And it just tickled me pink and gave me quite the thrill that out of all the people in the world, he'd choose to call me.

I wonder if he remembers?

For about an hour this afternoon we all made a dog pile on the bed and watched football.  I think it was the Florida/Maryland game... but I'm not enough of a fan to really follow super close so I could be wrong.  For me watching a sports event is more of a social thing than actually being a fan of the team or sport.  I understand what's happening enough to enjoy the game, but not enough to seek it out on my own.

All of which has absolutely nothing to do with anything...

Pardon the puppy porn...

In the dog pile, Gizmo kept turning over and skooching around to find the most comfortable spot.  He ended up stretched along my side on his back with my arms around his butt.  (Insert bad joke about him being such a little cuddle butt.)  What I was noticing, though, is the skin of his tummy region where it's less covered by fur.  It's both dark brown and pale pink in blotches much like the Indian Paint Ponies made famous in B-grade western movies.  And so so soft and warm!

And, she says with an evil grin, ticklish!!