I was born in Texas. In fact, I was actually born in Fake Cow County and since returning here to go to college, I've now lived here longer than anywhere else in my life. Naturally, I was born with the prerequisite football appreciation gene. I like football, I really do.
I understand the difference between the I formation and the shotgun. I know where the tight ends line up and why certain receivers are ineligible down field. I even kind of like the vague, witless, palm-reader style of the college playoff system. I'm cool with that.
But I still think football fanaticism is pretty stupid.
Unfortunately, I married a damn pigskin freak. Jackson's family is all about the sports. He had a try-out with the Cincinnati Reds and had 'em real interested until they learned he lied about his age and he was only 17. He was all sorts of good at football and played one year in college before he got irreversibly injured.
So, I spend my Friday nights huddled in various low-rent sports venues watching whatever game has caught his attention for the week. A lot of times those are 6-man football games.
Jackson's brother is the head coach and athletic director at a tiny school about 40 miles from Fake Cow. There are so few students that they don't have enough kids to play regular football; not even if they recruited a girl to kick the field goals.
6-man football is like basketball played in cleats. It's actually a lot of fun to watch. My favorite part is the mercy rule - as soon as one team gets 45 points ahead of the other, the game ends and we all get to go home early.
Anyway, I told you all that to tell you this: this past Friday we went to see Coach-in-law's game with their number one rival. I took my camera, just for the heck of it. Here is a shot of the entire team and coaching staff watching the play from the sidelines:
See what I mean by small? Naturally, the school doesn't have a lot of money to spend on stuff like trainers and medics and such. Coach-in-law was a medic in the navy before being discharged for a knee injury. (It happened while playing football. Who wouldda guessed?) So, when something happens to one of his players, he doctors them on the sidelines. Friday night one of the guys dislocated a finger. Might have broken it. I managed to get a shot of CIL fixing the finger while keeping an eye on the action happening downfield. You should've heard the horrible crack it made when it popped back into place. Everyone in the stands said "Ooh!" and shuddered in unison. And I snapped a photo! Doesn't this make you cringe?
I'll be sort of glad when football season ends...