Back before “everything.com”, we subscribed to the local newspaper that was delivered to our front porch each morning via a young boy on a bicycle with a whale of precision pitch. Everyone took their favorite sections and we were your typical family….Dad clipped coupons (yes), I did the Jumble puzzle, my mom looked to see when the Dallas Cowboys were scheduled to play next. Our family lived and breathed Cowboy football. My father was a preacher (oh stop it already…I can hear what you’re saying about preachers' daughters, ya know!)….. And if the Cowboys were in the Super Bowl there was obviously a special heavenly injunction that allowed the church powers that be to rearrange, what was otherwise, a set in stone, attendance mandatory, service schedule. Oh we got our obligatory time in …song, prayer, two more songs, a mini-sermon that somehow weaved in a blessing for the boys about to take the field, that no harm would come their way (no blessing for the opposing team, mind you), one last prayer and a collective “Amen….Kill the Dolphins.” Wow…that just sounds wrong now on so many levels. Growing up in Texas we were taught to believe that we lived in “God’s country” and that the Cowboys were God’s team which is why the football stadium has a hole in the roof….so God could watch them play! And when my great-grandmother passed away, there above her casket, displayed with pride and honor… was a Dallas Cowboy pennant….I kid thee not.
I left Texas and moved to Georgia but never rescinded my loyalty to the Cowboys. Thankfully, my daughter was a cheerleader all through high school and understood the game. She cheered those Spartan boys to victory with her spirited “We want a…we want a...we want a TOUCHDOWN” and was even able to make sure the fans were engaged with “We’ve got Spirit YES WE DO…we’ve got Spirit HOW ‘BOUT YOU?”
Wait…let me correct myself – she did not understand the game, come to find out. Apparently she had not inherited the football gene. So when the moans and groans ensued of having to endure yet another Sunday afternoon of football I simply suggested she pull out her old cheerleading uniform and BE the half time show! She was less than amused but I'm pretty sure this is how Fantasy Football got started. :-)
I left Texas and moved to Georgia but never rescinded my loyalty to the Cowboys. Thankfully, my daughter was a cheerleader all through high school and understood the game. She cheered those Spartan boys to victory with her spirited “We want a…we want a...we want a TOUCHDOWN” and was even able to make sure the fans were engaged with “We’ve got Spirit YES WE DO…we’ve got Spirit HOW ‘BOUT YOU?”
Wait…let me correct myself – she did not understand the game, come to find out. Apparently she had not inherited the football gene. So when the moans and groans ensued of having to endure yet another Sunday afternoon of football I simply suggested she pull out her old cheerleading uniform and BE the half time show! She was less than amused but I'm pretty sure this is how Fantasy Football got started. :-)
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