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Monday, 09 September 2013

Fans

IMPORTANT EDITORIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Stories for this blog are limited in length to 750 words. In recent weeks and months, however, many have strayed over that line – way over, in some cases.

So, to save my time and sanity, stories longer than 750 words will no longer be published.

Mission creep has also affected images lately. It is time consuming for me to prepare them for publishing so I am now imposing a limit of two photos per story.

I'm sure you understand. You can see all the rules and suggestions here and they are always available at the How to Submit link in the upper left corner of every page.

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By Mickey Rogers of This, That and the Other

By far the most interesting creatures on the planet are human beings. Despite having the most capable brains of all God’s creatures, we continue to do some dumb, irritating and often humorous things.

Of course, people are capable of noble deeds and sacrifices but if one wishes to observe the less positive side of human behavior, I suggest that he or she attends a sporting event.

The following observations are from a recent college football game. This was a big game. As a result, a record was set for attendance that night.

To get to the main area of seats, fans had to file through a relatively narrow hallway. Soon we were stuck in a mass of humanity; the fans would take perhaps two small steps before once again coming to a halt. It was like trying to stuff two pounds into a one pound can.

Unfortunately, such crowded conditions brought out the worst in human nature. People began shoving, pushing and elbowing each other. Knock someone sideways? Don’t apologize, just keep plowing through; you can’t afford to miss the opening kickoff.

Two guys were about to start a fistfight but luckily, one of the wives dragged her man as far away as she could under the circumstances.

One might think that a university would take its responsibilities as a role model quite seriously and perhaps this one does as long as the bottom line is not affected. The bottom line, of course, is money.

Long before the opening kickoff, some of the fans were feeling no pain for the university gladly sold its overpriced beer to anyone of legal age who was willing to fork over the dough. As a result, non-drunk fans had to put up with some of the most obnoxious people on the planet.

During most of the game some drunkard seated directly behind me kept bellowing like a moose in heat. That gets old pretty quickly. The equally inebriated fellow next to the moose caller kept screaming that the opponents were cheaters.

A fat guy kept stepping on my feet as he wobbled out for more liquid refreshments. The fellow on my right side swore like a drunken sailor each time his team failed to catch a pass or stuff the opponent’s running attack.

Sadly, no doubt at least some of the drunks, after wobbling their way back to the parking lot, got behind the wheel thus putting themselves and everyone else on the highway in danger. By the end of the game many of them were slurring their words and had lost much of their sense of balance, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure how they’d do operating an automobile.

All well - at least the university made a lot of money that night! (This particular university does cut off beer sales at the end of the third quarter.)

The home team’s quarterback, let’s call him Snookermoose, is having an All-American season; his passing statistics are as good as anyone else's in the country. Unfortunately, at this particular game, Snookermoose threw what I believe was his first interception of the season.

Immediately the fans were yelling for the poor quarterback’s head: “Get that bum out of there: bring in Sticklepuss!” About ten minutes later Snookermoose led a brilliant drive for another touchdown. Then the fans sang a different tune: “Way to go, Snookermoose! He’s our man (at least until he throws another interception)!”

Somehow, every call against the home team was a bad call: “Boo! He wasn’t holding! You’re blind, ref!” Mysteriously, however, no calls against the opponents were ever questioned. So, evidently, the refs were alternately nincompoops and perfectionists. Go figure.

After the game ended, the victorious home fans once again clogged the aisles. As people pushed and elbowed their way through the masses, I remembered that the word “fan” is an abbreviation for “fanatic.” It figures.

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