How We Watch Football

Times change. We change. Football doesn’t change much, but how we watch it surely does.

Our house used to be the place for BYU football. All the kids there. Yelling and jumping around. Saying bad words (that would be me; nobody else was allowed to) and throwing things at our pretty big Phillips 300 pound widish screen cathode ray TV . Then Gin moved away. And Cammon got married and bought a really, really wide flat screen hang-it-on-the-wall TV – for his business (nudge, nudge, wink – no really.  They use it at trade shows). Then they had to go and get themselves inlaws. And children. Who need to nap. Not the inlaws. The children. Although the inlaws also have children who need to nap. Does this make sense? I didn’t think so.

So here is a brief photo essay: how we now watch football. At Cammon’s house. In Autumn and blue shirts.

This is a culprit.  He is not solely responsible for our present situation.  But mostly.  Deceptively cute, don’t you think? And I must tell you—this is me, holding him.  That would be, instead of watching the game.

Here are the truly responsible ones.  See the fatuous attention to distraction?  Fans, yes.  But belying the very footballs printed on their shirts.

Okay.  Family time.  In harmony already.  Actually, they don’t usually let this kid watch TV, which is pretty much in line with my own philosophy.  Perhaps this is why?

The grandfather.  He’s looking west.  The Game is south.

Now, Chaz has changed for the good.  She actually sits in the same room with us during gameplay these days.

Okay, I’m gonna call this the half time show.  I’m trying to catch the Scoot at the apex of each wave of the drop-and-swoop-the-Scoot game.  Keep in mind that I’m shooting digital at 1000 ISO, and I’m still getting blur.  

He’s scaring this kid to death, eh?

At the peak of yet another swoop.  This makes about five.

Uh-huh.  And these are the people who wonder why this kid isn’t napping well?

Still.  You could do worse, I guess.  Scooter could be out shooting dice or hot-wiring cars.  And we could have lost this game.  And the really good thing is, I don’t have to worry about losing my little card with the season schedule on it, because it’s plastered all over C’s back.

It’s going to be a long Autumn.

At least, I really, really hope so.