Yesterday was the day of the big U of Iowa versus Iowa State football game (serious rivalry there), also known to yours truly as "the day a hellmouth opens up in Iowa City." [Yes, it's true, I believe that football is a g.d. bore and that the people who like football are using their fandom as an opiate for certain early psychosocial wounds. (Although exceptions exist. I'll grant you, for example, any leatherhead from the early 1900's, before the sport became an overblown capitalist opportunity. Or the low-income parents of a low-income but physically gifted inner-city girl who manages to cross gender lines and becomes an all-state high school varsity quarterback - I could understand their pride and interest in the game. These are only two exceptions, though.) That's a harsh judgment, maybe. But, you know, I know that there are people - like 99.9% of the population, for example - who would find my personal obsessions boring as hell, too. (I don't expect people to like Francis Stanford poetry or John Porcellino comics the way that I do, for example.) Different strokes, for...yeah - But, for some reason, "football people" get bent out of shape and really take it personally when you diss football...of course, this further proves that "football people" are unconsciously insecure about dedicating so much time to something so dumb. (And this sets them apart from all the other "people." I mean, you'll never see a book lover or cheese aficianado get all defensive about the legitimacy of their pastime. This is because to become any kind of aficianado, you have to dedicate a fair amount of time to your craft. Being a football fan only requires that you stare at people playing football for a really long time. I'm sorry. It's hard for me to appreciate the artistry of that. It's like someone being way into porn, but trying to pass off their solitary orgasm as some kind of cultural contribution.)]
So last night, until the wee hours of the morning, there were endless cop sirens, much late adolescent wooooooooooooooooo-ing, and the sound of drunken dumbassery in the calle... GO HAWKEYES!
5 comments:
Who won the game? Randy
The Hawkeyes.
-J
I remember the cool grass, I was lined up as a defensive tackle...210 pounds of boy meat, my heart was pounding and the heat from my face was amazing, drops of sweat falling on this Minnesota night, the band was exploding, 5000 fans screaming...we played the game of football and what I really wanted was some forgiveness...someone to stop the carnival and take me out for Mexican, and tell me the charade is over, Randy
I just picked up the Idiots Guide to football so I can relate to my in-laws. Discovered that the first down is awarded when the ball has successfully moved 10 yards, thus starting the count in which 10 more yards must be achieved in three plays or the team loses possession of the ball.
For me, this blog is an opiate for early wounds sustained while drinking to football.
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