Chapter 42
There we all sat on hard-wooden seats, wiping the sweat from our eyes and mutilating programs as we tried in vain to fan ourselves cool!! It was loud; it was crowded; it was FOOTBALL!
How many years have people crowded together out in the open air to watch two teams try to tear each other apart over a little oblong ball that won’t even bounce up and down!?! Amazing!!
Can’t you just see some old farmer who lived so far back in the sticks that he only came to town once a year to see daylight. On his ONLY day away from the ranch his town folks talk him into seein’ the big main attraction of the year—the FOOTBALL game.
I can imagine his thoughts—Just look at all that ENERGY!
! If I had all them boys up in the north forty choppin’ down them trees, the job would be done in a day.
Wonder what’s inside that there pigskin that they gotta fight over it anyway?
Gotta be something inside it—maybe it’s gold nuggets!
Blame thing is as worthless as my neighbor’s son if there ain’t!
And they call this a BALLGAME!!! Ain’t a single base out there—what’s this world comin’ to…
hey, you over there, you takin’ bets on this game?
Who do I want to bet on? You got to be jokin’! ! Does one of them really win?!!
It must’ve been a man’s sport in those days. LADIES would have never been able to endure such excitement. The smelling salts and ammonia factories would’ve done a booming business.
Besides the ladies could’ve never sat all that time on the seats—their bustles would have been a nuisance.
Maybe that’s why the styles changed so drastically in those next two or three decades.
The woman folk got tired of hearing football, football, football, so they decided to SEE just what this fantastic game was all about.
Since either the bustles went or they stayed at home, they burned the bustles at the very next bon fire pep rally, disinfected the outhouse with their smelling salts, and had a cheerleader tryout.
The next week they put on their daringly short uniforms—which even showed their knees—and went to the football game in style.
We’ve loved it ever since!! Sometimes the men can ALMOST yell and scream as loud as we can. ’Course they stay on the sidelines to keep from having to compete with US!!
So, the season is underway for another year. Fall doesn’t seem to mind letting summer view the sport for a while, but I’ll be glad when we shiver, bundle up in Granny’s worn-out quilts and try to yell ourselves warm.