So, we decided to go to the game. I think, overall it was a good decision. We had a good time. We got a tan … kind of. I got to sit in the bleachers between my two sisters and yell a lot and sing the fight song and make fun of people. Oh, and we also won, which always makes everything better. Only one truly horrible incident occurred to mar the day, and it was severely emotionally scarring (really, only to me. No one else’s emotions were affected in the writing of this blog). It took me two touchdowns and a field goal to get over it.
Here’s what happened:
The tipping point in our decision to go to the game was the fact that an acquaintance from our school’s sport message board offered us free tickets. We just had to go by his tailgate and take him some beer. So, we purchased the beer and I baked some aopapilla cheesecake to accompany it and to take to their tailgate as a thanks for them saving us a great deal of money on tickets.
I went to my JL project in the morning then came home and put on my game gear (note to New Teacher New Wife – casual attire: team shirt, skirt and metallic flip flops). And we drove to the game. I actually drove us, which I rarely do, so that Ducks could do a little more reading on the drive. When we got there, it was only an hour to gametime, which to my husband is tantamount to being at least an hour late.
I dropped him off near the main tailgating area so he could find and retrieve our tickets, then drove away in search of parking. However, all the parking close to the stadium was for sale and since I let Ducks out, I had no cash. I never have cash, which is often problematic; however, this was not the traumatic occurrence i finally found free parking about a half mile from the stadium and walked around trying to find Ducks. But my phone didn’t work (curse you, AT&T) and so we couldn’t find each other because of course we hadn’t made a plan. We’re irresponsible and stupid like that.
So I walked around, got dust all over my flip-flopped feet and got sweaty, gross and disgruntled. I also forgot to mention that I was carrying around four beers in my purse to give Message Board Guy in exchange for our tickets. Why four? Because the whole six-pack wouldn’t fit and I was embarrassed to wander about all alone carrying a six-pack of beer at our private, uptight university.
Fast-forward a little. We don’t find the guy, game time is upon us and we are ticketless, which is causing a state of agitation in both of us, but especially in my husband. He finally locates someone with extra ticket to sell and buys them, which then negates the whole purpose of the trip (exulting over the free tickets).
As we get ready to enter the stadium, we walk past Touchdown Alley (the tailgate area) one last time. I see a trash can and take the opportunity to divest myself of the beers in my purse, since they can’t be taken in the stadium. And then my eyes light upon a glorious sight – the college basketball team.
Now, I may have mentioned a few times that I like sports. But, above all other sports teams — more than the Cowboys, more than the Mavericks, more than the Rangers, etc, etc — I love this basketball team. Seriously love. Like, stalker level. In fact, I have actually stalked them and made the players take photos with my sisters and me. I’m pretty sure I would ace a quiz if these players’ middle names, hometowns and nicknames. And, yes, I may have Facebook friended some of them (mainly Frellis, our fam fave – not his real name).
So I’m throwing away the beer and I see the team. And I am struck with inspiration. I’ll give them the sopapilla cheesecake. That will OBVIOUSLY make them love and remember me and will win their loyalty for all time.
I turn to take the cheesecake from Ducks —
He had THROWN IT IN THE TRASH!
And by thrown it in the trash, I meant to say ruined my life. My dreams of becoming the team’s patron bakeress and close personal friend to future NBA stars went completely went up in flames.
I seriously considered fishing them out of the trash and still taking them over there. They were wrapped in about 17,000 thicknesses of saran wrap so there is no way a single molecule of garbage touched them. But I decided that giving the much-acclaimed basketball team food salvaged from the trash would be generally frowned upon. It could, technically, I suppose, be considered an act of poisoning. So, sigh, away we walked, leaving a dream behind in the gritty dust.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I was not well-pleased or very congenial company for the first part of the game. To be honest, it wasn’t totally Ducks’ fault. I didn’t tell him of my brilliant plan so he was not to be blamed.
But then we went into the game and won. And my sister Beth made a pact with me to visit the basketball team’s tailgate next home game on my behalf (she actually is friends with several of them) So all was well with the world.
Hope your weekends were filled with glorious adventures!