I promised a student that I would try to make it to one of his football games this season, and today's game seemed like a good bet. Unlike other weeks when the games were at 6:30 PM and 30-60 minutes away, this morning the team was kicking off at 10:30 at the high school within walking distance of home.
Unfortunately, the nor'easter that was blowing when I got up was not enough to cancel the game. Since it was also the last game of the season, we found ourselves shivering under an umbrella on the sideline as 22 boys mixed it up on the gridiron. There was no scoreboard, and the referees were not mic'ed, so at times it was anyone's guess what the hell was happening. I did clearly hear the 2 minute warning, though.
"What are they doing?" asked the daughter of another teacher on my team who joined us in the second half. "I thought they said there were only 2 minutes left! It's been like 10 minutes!"
"Oh, football minutes are like dog years," I said, "at least 7 for 1." And sure enough, 4 minutes or so later the final whistle blew.
Unfortunately, the nor'easter that was blowing when I got up was not enough to cancel the game. Since it was also the last game of the season, we found ourselves shivering under an umbrella on the sideline as 22 boys mixed it up on the gridiron. There was no scoreboard, and the referees were not mic'ed, so at times it was anyone's guess what the hell was happening. I did clearly hear the 2 minute warning, though.
"What are they doing?" asked the daughter of another teacher on my team who joined us in the second half. "I thought they said there were only 2 minutes left! It's been like 10 minutes!"
"Oh, football minutes are like dog years," I said, "at least 7 for 1." And sure enough, 4 minutes or so later the final whistle blew.
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