Fourth Down & Fifty Pages To Go

At the homecoming game last night, there was a woman sitting next to us reading a book.  Now. I like football.  Don't get me wrong.  But I hate going to high school football games.  There.  I said it.  And I'll say it again.  I hate high school football games.  Our football team does not give the community a lot to look forward to.  Our guys run into the opposition and its like hitting a brick wall.  The opposition runs into us and they drag our guys down the field.  We like to fumble and seem restricted to moving two yards at a time.  The homecoming parade summed it all up.  Walking down the street in the parade, our biggest, most ferocious looking football player tripped over his own feet.  Yeah, that's how good we are.  It is hard to sit through the games as there is really nothing to cheer for and nothing to watch because the score is 30 to 3.  But we are troopers.  We sit on the cold bleachers in the bitter wind and watch.  We have people crawl over us with nachos and pizza.  We witness the teenage mating rituals.  We bite our tongues because you never know who's mother you may be sitting near. We are polite and respectful.  We are waiting for the band.  The football parents on the other hand, go to the concession stand during half-time and leave before the performance following the game.  So much for mutual respect.  But when it is time for the band and color guard, we beam with pride.  We even get stage fright by proxy.  They come out and do their thing and it is flawless.  They are the pride of Suburbia.  We sit, outfitted in our Suburbia gear, and think wow, that is our baby girl. We have done what we vowed we would never do.  We were transformed into a breed all its own - band parents.  We come for one reason and one reason only - to see the band/color guard.  So no offense to the football parents but next time, I'm bringing my book.