As a non-practicing jock, the only part of Super Bowls I watch is the half-time entertainment. The rest of it seems like a lot of pushing and shoving and mayhem and violence that is best to avoid.
I can only remember attending two football games in my illustrious career as a sports fan. These are some highlights from one of them. My grandson Ford Covey, ten years old, was playing with his team. It may not be as exciting as the game you’ll be seeing today, but Ford’s team didn’t get paid the big bucks either.
I can’t tell you who won. There must have been some touchdowns and whoever got the most won. I do know that.
After the game, my conversation with Ford went something like this:
That may give you an idea of why I won’t be watching the Super Bowl with you today.
Here, for niece Christy or anyone else who would rather read the text rather than watch the “coach” on video, here it is. . .
When grandson, Ford Covey, was 10 years old, he invited Octo-woman to watch him play in a football game. She seemed to be having a great time. After the game, Ford asked her how she enjoyed the experience. Octo woman said, “I loved it. The hot dogs, the popcorn, the Gummi Bears. But the activity on the playing field made no sense to me.”
Confused, Ford asked, “Grandma. What confused you? It’s pretty simple.” She replied, “At the beginning of the game, they flipped a quarter to see who gets the ball first. Then, the whole game they’re shouting ‘Get the quarter back, get the quarter back!’ I mean, give me a break, it’s only 25 cents!”