Eddie has played in the same low-contact (meaning lots of contact and falling to the ground) football league for about 20 years. He continues to play every Sunday of the Fall season and sometimes during the Winter season (sometimes, here, means almost always except for that one season).
I do my best to support the team. That means, I wash his uniform, clean out his football bag, fill his water bottles, and sometimes go to the games (sometimes, here, means only when the weather is to my liking, which means only when it's sunny and 70 degrees or a big game, like the Super Bowl). I go, I sit in my folding chair, I talk to the other girls who show up to watch (usually AF and N), and then, for the most part, count down the minutes until the game is over. It's not that I don't enjoy football. I do. I've watched with my dad since I was born. The part I don't enjoy is the constant fighting with the refs after every single play and the inability for anyone to keep score, including the refs.
Sidenote: I just finished reading Chuck Klosterman's Downtown Owl, and his character's take on football is dead on. Read it. Fantastic book.
This year, to support the team, I went above and beyond silent cheerleader. I recorded the game on an old camcorder that uses a mini-VHS tape. My two challenges: (1) The tape had only 2 hours [which turned out to be only an hour and a half once I powered it on] and (2) the battery was dying [even though it was fully charged the night before].
Oh, wait, there was one more challenge. The day of the Super Bowl turned out to be probably the coldest day of this winter so far. The field is near water, so turn that thermometer down some. Oh, joy, it was a great day. At least the sun was out. At one point, the other two girls and I turned our backs to the field so that the sun could be on our faces. At another point, one of the girls said to me: We should go sit in my car because you're shivering. I was like, Am I? At that point, I couldn't tell what my body was doing. I kept walking in place like a crazy person. I told N and AF I used to be a cheerleader and don't know how I used to do it; they were like, Me too! Those days are not missed.
At another point, Eddie, who never ever ever never ever pays attention to me at all during the game because it's his team and he's too much involved with the game to think about anything else like his wife on the sidelines, came over and asked if I was okay. I was like, Not really, as I turned off the camera and put it in his bag so I could warm my hands for a while. He was like, Oh okay. Because really, there was nothing he or I could do about the cold if he also wanted the game recorded.
Because the battery ran out so quickly, I rested the camera for most of the middle of the game. When the two minute warning came for the end, I picked it up again, determined to get the end of the game even though the battery was blinking red.
The game was actually exciting with the opposing team trailing by only a touchdown in the last few downs when they had possession. All the girls were thinking the same thing: please don't get a touchdown...please don't get a touchdown. The worst feeling in the world is watching your guy lose on the field. Not only do you feel bad for him, you feel bad for yourself, knowing that you will be subject to moments of utter despair for an indeterminant amount of time--the rest of the day, the rest of the week, the rest of forever--there's no true measure.
The quarterback threw the ball. Five guys from Monsters Inc went up for it and shut it down. The cheering began. We cheered from the sidelines. Then I looked over at the other two girls and said, I recorded it and don't even really know what happened other than we won.
Then the boys came over jumping and hugging and chanting and loving. Eddie walked over and hugged AF who was cheering and then walked away. Nice husband. He did hug me later on, though, so that was nice.
He came home with a huge trophy. Better yet, he came home with a smile on his face. So did I. He's a really good football player. He's really smart and, more importantly, really passionate. That all makes it worth the frostbite.
No comments:
Post a Comment