I married well. My husband is an excellent cook, is not a drunk, brings home the bacon when no one else can find any, does not mention hardly ever mentions my weight, plays the piano and the flute, is an intellectual and does not mind I ain’t, and does not watch televised sports. Never has. Nor have my sons. Ever. Until today. Today, literally out of the blue, both boys are down there watching The Game. They were enjoying it so much and so loudly, Hal has joined them and is now explaining all the rules.
What happened? And how do guys know all the rules in such detail after at least 18 years not watching a single game in action? I know it’s been 18 years because tomorrow is our 18th anniversary. Hope it’s not our last.
I am from KY. The men in my family and in every family I ever knew never missed A Game: Football, Golf, Basketball, Baseball, the Derby, the Belmont, the Whatever That Third Race is. The entire year was spent building up to or coming down from a Bowl, a Series, a Masters or a Final Four.
As a little girl, we spent Game Days (basically every Sunday) at Billie and Jack’s house. They were mom and dad’s best friends. Billie and Jack cooked a huge breakfast, the adults drank Bloody Mary’s and smoked cigarettes.
The kids – me, my three siblings and Leigh, Billie and Jack’s little girl – played. I don’t remember what we played but we didn’t have a single electronic game. Just dolls and dirt. By late afternoon, we were exhausted and the ‘rents were sloshed.
In high school, with two popular brothers, Game Day was at our house. It was always so frickin’ loud. Guys shouting, the smell of hamburgers, beer and pot. Pot couldn’t calm down a guy on Game Day. They’d smoke a joint, then jump up and down on the sofa, shouting… ok, they didn’t shout during golf. Everything else was loud. I just didn’t get it.
just wonder. You think how wonderful it would be to go to their school.
You wish you could trade places for a day, just so you could experience
that feeling.” – UCLA player Kris Johnson
When Hal and I first started dating, I expected that, even though he rarely watched TV, he would of course be watching Big Games. I had an involuntary moment of silence when I discovered he couldn’t care less. I think I asked him who was playing in the Super Bowl and he didn’t know. Did not know. I had never met a man who didn’t know who was playing in the Super Bowl. Ever. I’m pretty sure it’s what cinched the deal.
Now, 18 years later, all three boys are down there whooping it up. I’m going to thank my lucky stars for all these years of freedom from televised sports. As long as I don’t have to smell hamburgers, beer and pot, I can live with it.