Siss – Boom – Baaaa
HERE WE ARE IN LATE JANUARY and, strictly by coincidence, I have not seen any football – College, Pro, or local High School, this year. Some people might interpret that in terms of over-extended Socio-Economic-Historic-Politico-Religious opining.
I’ve just been either sick or busy. Mainly sick. Sick of being busy too. I don’t mix Sports and any Politico-Etc. ideas I may harbor. The Sports part is much too important.
I grew up in a place and time where and when Sports was looked upon as a religion and Football was the Holy of Holies. Friday night was a High School Football Sacrament. If you weren’t in the stands at kickoff time you had better be either in jail or in the Hospital – in the Intensive Care Unit. It helped that our High School produced future NFL players like Lucy and Ethel at the Candy Factory.
This year I have been an Apostate. Missing everything in all Sports is rare for me. I enjoy watching skilled athletes competing. I like it partially because I was never any good at any of those endeavors myself. I couldn’t run, hit, dribble (except in college, but for different reasons) or swing the club, bat, or racket. I was completely inept which made me into the perfect fan. I can root and cheer with the best of them.
Sis – Boom – Bah !
That is a generic cheer and not the old joke – “Question: What sound do you hear when you put a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse in a sheep’s butt? Answer: Siss – Boom – Baaaa.”
I find a great pleasure in watching a well played Football game. I can even enjoy watching Tennis, Golf, Track and Field, and even Darts. When it comes to Basketball I become bored quickly and I draw the line at Arm Wrestling and Corn Hole even though ESPN knows no such limit. Alas.
It is too late for me to get into Football for this year. I’ll give it another try come August or September. I’ll check in and see how my old High School Footballers attempt to carry on the old winning tradition. The kids on the field will be the grandchildren of the players I knew, but that’s OK.
(If I’m not careful I’ll break into a medley from “Fiddler on the Roof.”)
Despite having missed everything this past year there is a glow on the horizon. Baseball Spring Training Camp starts up in a matter of a week or two. Just knowing that is like a transfusion into my tepid bloodstream. I do want “My Team” to do well, but I’ll watch them even if they can’t field a squad any better than nine guys as inept as me in my youthful terrible prime. “The Game” is the thing. The almighty struggle against Gravity, Wind Resistance, and squalid Officiating is what matters to me. A good game can test the limits of my Blood Pressure Medications and my Troglodytic desire to put my foot through the TV screen.