Thursday Night Football

I'm a football fan, something I never thought I would be admitting to when I think of all the times my mother forced me to watch Sunday NFL football for the majority of my formative years. But, now that I'm a grown woman with adult decision making capabilities, I find myself unabashedly addicted to the players and their sometimes wildly attractive coaches (hi, Chuckie).

So, you can probably understand how proud it makes me that all three of my little brothers are playing football this season. Luke and Ben play for Bishop McGuinness and John plays his little heart out for the CHA Crusaders. And, frankly, I love going to their games. Last night, John played at Mount Saint Mary's, and since it's my Fall break right now, I didn't have class and got to head over there to watch him play.

I realize I should be going into great and wonderful detail on what a great job he did and how the game was really close and exciting, but I can't get out of my mind the random comments I heard from the parents during the game and how funny they seemed to me.

First of all, I would just like to say that it took me a good sweet forever to find the football field at Mt. St. Mary's, a school that seemed like it would be a really good place to film the video for Pink Floyd's The Wall. So, once I finally got to the field, I felt greatly rewarded. I went to sit by my dad and grandpa and knew it was going to be a fun night because grandpa couldn't stop talking about the delicious stew he had made the day before. Old people are proud of their stews, guys. Seriously proud.

Here are some of the things I heard during the game that made me laugh:

"Make it a good threesome!" Now, this was shouted by my father. I realize he was talking about the formation of the men on the field, but it still struck me as awkward.

"Grab his sack!" I'm pretty sure I heard this incorrectly. Certainly, the parental unit who said this said something more like "go for the sack." But, really, is that any better? I can't imagine any of the players being too thrilled about anyone going for or grabbing their sacks. Just an opinion.

"You're running around like a chicken out there!" I know this doesn't sound very funny, but let me assure you that it left me in stitches as it was immediately followed by my grandpa's subtle remark that he had, in fact, put chicken in his stew.

"You need to handle your balls a little better!" I don't necessarily feel like this one needs an explanation.

"Come on guys! Let's go for the touchdown!" Again, this one is not very funny, but I'm just letting you know that this is what was yelled by my father just moments before his giant elbow whacked me upside the head. I was just sitting there minding my own business, when my father jumped to his feet behind me and delivered a fierce blow to my cranial surface. I turned around and looked at him like he'd just shot my kitten and it was decided that his excitement would be better contained in a vicinity that was not shared by my head.

They ended up losing the game. I blame the constant discussion of the stew...or the violent display of temper that was demonstrated on my poor head.