A rare event took place here on Saturday night. I watched college football. Not just any college football game but my alma mater. I couldn’t believe the promo announcing the upcoming game I happened to see the other day. I went online to double-check what I thought I heard in the commercial.
The information was true; I barely contained my enthusiasm. I can’t remember the last time my old university team played on national television, not to mention international. I casually said something about the game to sk over dinner with a big grin on my face. “You really want to watch this game, don’t you?” “Does it show” I responded. Then I got a “you’re so cute when you smile like that,” a pinch of my cheek (facial cheek for those of you wondering) and a free pass to watch the game. Oh, Glory Day!
My gal pal is busy this whole month with a class she is taking. She attends class each weekend from 9 am to 4 pm and gets to write four papers. That provides me with a lot of alone time. . .or as I look at it, I can watch as much football as I want. Sk barely made it through dinner on Saturday without falling asleep so I was happily surprised she agreed to watch a bit of the game with me.
Sk is not interested in watching football at all, unless we go to the actual game. If you want her to attend a game with you, do not talk about the rivalry between the two clubs, try to point out the importance of the game or the history of the team. That will not get her there, instead tell her about all the food options she’ll have or let her know how many people will be there and why your seats are prime for people watching. Also, you have to reassure her that it will not rain or be too cold. High maintenance? Not my gal.
So there I am, the quintessential butch picture: sitting on the sofa, football game on the television, left arm around my four-legged baby and right arm around my two-legged beauty. Could life get any better? Pre-game hype is over. The camera panned around the stadium, showed some views on campus and I pointed out to sk the student apartments I lived in for two years. Right after my explanation for my former team’s mascot, it’s meaning and history, the ball floated high into the air and the game began. The ball sailed through the back of the end zone for a touchback. This gave sk time to evaluate the uniforms.
I wrote a previous piece about some of my pet peeves. People that walk into a room, take one look at the game on the television and announce, “oh, those uniforms are pretty” annoy me greatly. Luckily, my alma mater drove down the field at a steady pace to score on their first possession all the while sk seemed delighted with her private commentary about the uniforms. We both enjoyed the game, or aspects of it, until I heard her giggle as the camera showed a close-up of the opposing team’s huddle. sk sat up, pointed to the screen and exclaimed, “Oh, they are wearing capris!” Um, no. Quality time watching football game, done.