Football is in full swing! Being married to a football coach is a dangerous position to be in, at best. You know, they are happy one weekend, morose the next. Not only do we have to worry about his team's wins and losses, but we certainly MUST agonize over the defeats of favorite coaches' teams, friends' teams, pee wee teams and universities all over the U.S. Then, of course, there are the NFL teams. He has former players on NFL teams, he has University and NFL coaches he's known, admired and even worked with. So it is imperative to sit and watch as they struggle and/or are victorious.
He always likes to remind me that Alabama coach Nick Saban once watched a film in my classroom; that Joe Paterno helped him get his suitcases into the car at coaching clinic at MS. State. Once, he brought a University coach to our home to eat. (I was at work and had NO idea this event was taking place.) My child, who was about 9 at the time, called to tell me the good news. He, Chicken Daddy and Coach X were eating hotdogs and potato chips on paperplates for lunch..."Oh, where are you?" I inquired. "Sitting at our table, in OUR dining room," he excitedly exclaimed. Not to worry, he put a clean hand towel out in the bathroom...when I left for work that morning, the house looked like a bomb had been detonated in the kitchen and its aftermath had spread outward to all rooms. I am quite sure the coach was duly impressed by my housekeeping prowess.
I heard Chick D on the phone with a former player the other night discussing a game that was played 31 years ago! He remembered every detail that happened that fateful evening and they were ranting as though they had just had the national championship ripped out of their oh so close grasp!!
Point of this post is a funny story that happened to us when we were newly married. In those days I tried to disguise my dislike of all things footballish. To impress him, I even sat in the rain at a MS State game...and yes, I received my marriage proposal at the Liberty Bowl in Memphis...so I should have seen the Mack truck that was heading my way.
HE wanted to go to a State game that was being played in Jackson and I reluctantly agreed (still pretending, you know). When we got there he didn't like where we were seated...couldn't see well enough. I was perfectly satisfied, I could see what every lady in the stands had on...what more could you ask for? Well, during the middle of the second quarter, he spotted some empty seats in the reserved section. If the holders of the seats were coming, they'd be here by now..."Let's move there." Oh, no...I don't like productions...let's just remain where we were...I was quite happy. "No, come on, we are moving down there where we can see," he ordered. ("Look, I am not one of your players, I don't want to move, " I responded quietly.)
Long story, short...we moved. Ok, it wasn't so bad, we really did have better seats and we looked like we had season tickets....until.....you see this coming, don't you? I looked up to see a very stern Highway Patrolman staring down at us....."Sir," he said, "you will have to move." I was mortified, being asked to move from your unpaid for seats in the reserved section in front of thousands of people. " Ok, ok we are going, but why? Nobody's in these seats," Chicken Daddy questioned....the Patrolman countered, "Not at the moment, sir, because YOU are in them and Governor Allain would like to see the game in his reserved seat." We were certainly delighted to rise and give the GOVERNOR his seats. Need I say more?