Ravens 30, Vikings 23
On Sunday, I went to my first live football game ever. I've watched football on tv plenty of times but I'd never seen it in person--going to sissy schools or girls schools can do that to you. The experience might have been a disaster, since it was cold, and Christmas, and rainy, but it turned out to be fabulous! I can't believe I'm writing this, but I actually kinda wanna go to another game.
My dad bought the tickets in October from a coworker who owns rights to the seats. I had wanted to go all along, but I didn't realize how excited I was until the night before the game, when I dreamed about it. (I dreamed that my dad procrastinated getting ready and we missed the game, and I was so angry at him in my dream that in the morning I was still upset.) Plus I got depressed when I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of rain hitting my window. Although the weatherman had predicted temperatures of around 50, it was actually much colder out, like 40 or maybe even 35.
Luckily walking to work during the strike had prepared me for dealing with prolonged exposure to the cold, and luckily it stopped raining about an hour before we left for the game. My dad and Javert both wore pajama bottoms under their pants, (because I'm rational and a good advance planner, I wore tights and long underwear that I'd brought from NY) and lots of sweaters. My dad also brought a huge bag filled with extra clothes and blankets, just in case, and I brought a book, also just in case.
We parked in a garage downtown and walked to the Ravens stadium, which is new and gigantic. To get in, men and women must line up separately to get searched. So I was separated from the boys, and since football attracts relatively few women, I got in a lot quicker than they did. Ten minutes later, I was still waiting around with all the other women, about to call Javert's cell phone, when I saw him. Apparently my dad's bag of extra clothes was too big to bring into the stadium (cause all bombs are big) and he had to go back to check it at a booth half a mile away.
Of course, since I had never been to a football game before (or probably even seen the start of one), I didn't care that we might miss the kickoff or whatever its called. My dad finally got back and we went to our seats, which were very close to the field and near the 40 yard line. I'm not sure if we missed anything or not, but it didn't seem to matter much.
Football is much more exciting in person than on tv (even sped-up tv). It's faster paced than baseball, which I'm used to seeing in person, and the fans are much more interesting. Even though I didn't really understand what was happening in the beginning, it didn't matter because the guys in back of us had a running commentary going the whole time. And who doesn't enjoy seeing fat men take their shirts off in 40 degree weather? (Actually this only happened near the end, and only involved really drunk people, so it ended up being entertaining anyway).
I felt kinda out of place, since unlike 99% of the people there, I wasn't wearing any Ravens paraphernalia and I wasn't drunk. Had my dad not been with us, and had beer not cost $7.50 a cup, things might have gone differently, but--alas--I had only the one obligatory beer to warm me up halfway through the game. I told Javert to get some food when I sent him for beer and he returned with french fries. Bravo, Javert! Also, my dad left at some point and returned with hot pretzels, which was fantastic. There's nothing like steaming hot food and cold beer to warm up a person who has been sitting outside for 4 hours on Christmas night.
Anyway, the Ravens won after a pretty exciting game that was tied for a long time. By the end, I could watch the game and understand what was happening, which impressed me. Apparently the game is less fun when the home team loses, but since their record was so bad this year I doubt it would have mattered too much had they lost. After the game we had to race back to the bag check tent, and then back to the garage which claimed to close at midnight. We got there with 4 minutes to spare.
I know all the excuses about how professional sports suck, and I generally agree with them. I hate that athletes make millions of dollars and that the game is geared more for television advertisers than in person fans. I hate that the recent transit strike paralyzed the city and directly affected livelihoods of millions of people, yet still attracted far less attention and far less passion than did the 1994 baseball strike. I hate how athletes are heros and teachers aren't, and I hate that Americans spend so much money on sports games and equipment.
But somehow I could ignore these feelings for the duration of the game. Maybe I bought into the sports hype? Maybe it was peer pressure from all the other fans? At the game, people seemed so happy, maybe because that morning they'd opened a bunch of presents, but maybe because they just had some way of taking a break from normal life and a way of becoming passionate about something, that in the end, they know doesn't really matter to anyone.
Note: I also got to see real live cheerleaders! Oh yeah!
My dad bought the tickets in October from a coworker who owns rights to the seats. I had wanted to go all along, but I didn't realize how excited I was until the night before the game, when I dreamed about it. (I dreamed that my dad procrastinated getting ready and we missed the game, and I was so angry at him in my dream that in the morning I was still upset.) Plus I got depressed when I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of rain hitting my window. Although the weatherman had predicted temperatures of around 50, it was actually much colder out, like 40 or maybe even 35.
Luckily walking to work during the strike had prepared me for dealing with prolonged exposure to the cold, and luckily it stopped raining about an hour before we left for the game. My dad and Javert both wore pajama bottoms under their pants, (because I'm rational and a good advance planner, I wore tights and long underwear that I'd brought from NY) and lots of sweaters. My dad also brought a huge bag filled with extra clothes and blankets, just in case, and I brought a book, also just in case.
We parked in a garage downtown and walked to the Ravens stadium, which is new and gigantic. To get in, men and women must line up separately to get searched. So I was separated from the boys, and since football attracts relatively few women, I got in a lot quicker than they did. Ten minutes later, I was still waiting around with all the other women, about to call Javert's cell phone, when I saw him. Apparently my dad's bag of extra clothes was too big to bring into the stadium (cause all bombs are big) and he had to go back to check it at a booth half a mile away.
Of course, since I had never been to a football game before (or probably even seen the start of one), I didn't care that we might miss the kickoff or whatever its called. My dad finally got back and we went to our seats, which were very close to the field and near the 40 yard line. I'm not sure if we missed anything or not, but it didn't seem to matter much.
Football is much more exciting in person than on tv (even sped-up tv). It's faster paced than baseball, which I'm used to seeing in person, and the fans are much more interesting. Even though I didn't really understand what was happening in the beginning, it didn't matter because the guys in back of us had a running commentary going the whole time. And who doesn't enjoy seeing fat men take their shirts off in 40 degree weather? (Actually this only happened near the end, and only involved really drunk people, so it ended up being entertaining anyway).
I felt kinda out of place, since unlike 99% of the people there, I wasn't wearing any Ravens paraphernalia and I wasn't drunk. Had my dad not been with us, and had beer not cost $7.50 a cup, things might have gone differently, but--alas--I had only the one obligatory beer to warm me up halfway through the game. I told Javert to get some food when I sent him for beer and he returned with french fries. Bravo, Javert! Also, my dad left at some point and returned with hot pretzels, which was fantastic. There's nothing like steaming hot food and cold beer to warm up a person who has been sitting outside for 4 hours on Christmas night.
Anyway, the Ravens won after a pretty exciting game that was tied for a long time. By the end, I could watch the game and understand what was happening, which impressed me. Apparently the game is less fun when the home team loses, but since their record was so bad this year I doubt it would have mattered too much had they lost. After the game we had to race back to the bag check tent, and then back to the garage which claimed to close at midnight. We got there with 4 minutes to spare.
I know all the excuses about how professional sports suck, and I generally agree with them. I hate that athletes make millions of dollars and that the game is geared more for television advertisers than in person fans. I hate that the recent transit strike paralyzed the city and directly affected livelihoods of millions of people, yet still attracted far less attention and far less passion than did the 1994 baseball strike. I hate how athletes are heros and teachers aren't, and I hate that Americans spend so much money on sports games and equipment.
But somehow I could ignore these feelings for the duration of the game. Maybe I bought into the sports hype? Maybe it was peer pressure from all the other fans? At the game, people seemed so happy, maybe because that morning they'd opened a bunch of presents, but maybe because they just had some way of taking a break from normal life and a way of becoming passionate about something, that in the end, they know doesn't really matter to anyone.
Note: I also got to see real live cheerleaders! Oh yeah!
posted by Emil at 11:14 AM
4 Comments:
This reminds me of how I think I'm totally uninterested in sports but then get really excited when the Yankees are in the world series and watch every game.
I don't really like going to football games though, maybe because I went to so many as a kid and miss being able to just play under the seats. I also feel like I understand what's going on after a while (and many explanations) but forget completely by the next game I go to.
Yeah, I forget stuff when I watch it on tv. But during the game, Steph, I was like Wow, I totally understand how Stephanie's mom can be so into this! Although I think college football would be different from NFL.
Yeah, I mean I think people probably get even more into college football, because they know the players, etc. And if you meet with the coach every Monday to play Monday morning quarterback and go over the game (like my mom does) you can become totally obsessed!
Oh yeah, also: thanks to you I had a dream that I was at Wegman's last night. It was in NYC at 42nd and 2nd and I lived at 42nd and 1st.
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