Saturday, January 16, 2010
Is it really over?
The Tiki bar is now open…
Is it really over?
I am sitting in my seat staring out at the field. This was not how it was suppose to end. Just about everybody has the left the stadium. There were a few players still on the field talking. The Fatman was about 50 feet away from me. He would look at the field and then turn around and look at me over and over. This went on for about 15 minutes. I did not want it to end, but I somehow allowed my season, along with my team, to take a final bow. It’s over.
I can’t recall a time when I was not a Bengals fan. Im really not sure how I became one. Was it because I grew up in Cincinnati? Do you automatically consider yourself a fan because you grew up in the same city as the team plays? What about all the people out there who do not have a team in their hometown? How do they make a decision on who they are going to cheer for? I can’t even imagine what that would be like. Maybe it’s the jersey’s they wear or maybe they like a certain person on the team? Does that give them the right to become fans of that team?
Football is part of my soul. It soothes me and slams me to the ground when I start to get comfortable. I can hear the plays as they start to un-ravel. My mind talks to me as I am pacing back and forth when its 3rd and 1. I am usually right when it comes to my gut feeling. It’s funny; I think it, but I rarely say it, especially when I know they are not going to get a first down.
If you live in a city where you team plays, you have a certain comfort level. Why? Your surrounded by people who wear the same color jersey’s and think the same way as you do. You want your team to win. Living in South Florida is no exception, except it has a different feel to it. It’s rare you find people who actually were born and raised here. When you do, they are Dolphins fans. No different from us. They are given that title because they were born in a city which has a football team. Would I be a Saints fan if I was born in New Orleans? Maybe? Would my buddy Fletch be a Bengals fan if he was born in Cincinnati? Probably not, but it would certainly make for some good conversation.
Going to a bar in South Florida to watch football games is very different from watching them in the town where you were born. You look around all of the big screens and look for your team helmet. It will be hanging at the bottom of the TV along with your opponent. You spot it and off you go. If you are lucky enough you find seats right next to the TV. If you are late, you are shit out of luck. Plan on standing the whole game. You really need to get there early; where they hell are you going to put your buckets of beer if you’re standing around. You need a home base.
Just about every team is represented in the bar. Even Cleveland is represented. David my friend, you are a trooper for hanging in there all year. Down here, you have Dolphins who hate the Pats who hate the Jets. Then there is Pittsburgh, nobody likes Pittsburgh. They are like a swarm of grasshoppers. They go from town to town and try destroying it. But this year, people were ready for them and shut them down. You can use that towel to wipe away those tears.
When I think about all these people under one roof, it’s amazing to me there isn’t more trouble. There are the yells and screams and taunting of teams. Sometimes the tension gets so thick; everybody is just waiting for something to happen. But it never does. We all act like we want to play nice in the sandbox but deep down we want your team to be defeated and I do mean defeated. A good old fashion ass kicking. Hey that’s just football.
I watch the games with Fletch, Tiffany, Bob, Kim, Marybeth, and occasionally Christina. In this crowd, you have die hards from Boston, Baltimore and Cincinnati. My crowd is passionate about football and their teams. When we lose, it may take a few days for the madness to leave our heads. Lose a Superbowl and It will stay with you a lifetime. Something we all have experienced.
What is it we get from being a fan of our teams? Is it the notion we can wear our jerseys with pride and all the other people can kiss our ass? Is it a deep satisfaction we get as people of belonging to a group of successful individuals? Or is it we just want an excuse to get out on a Sunday to be with Friends and drink beer all day. Maybe we want to see how many buckets of beer we have on the tables. Maybe we want to see if our waitress is going to be decked out in short shorts and low cut t-shirts. If you give her a good tip, she will let you look at her melons all day long.
People, it really is all about the game and how it is played. But in my world there seems to be many other games going on beside the ones on the big screen. I look forward to the next roar of the crowd, the singing of the national anthem, and the flyby which makes me so ever proud. Proud to be a fan of this game I truly love.
That is all…
Is it really over?
I am sitting in my seat staring out at the field. This was not how it was suppose to end. Just about everybody has the left the stadium. There were a few players still on the field talking. The Fatman was about 50 feet away from me. He would look at the field and then turn around and look at me over and over. This went on for about 15 minutes. I did not want it to end, but I somehow allowed my season, along with my team, to take a final bow. It’s over.
I can’t recall a time when I was not a Bengals fan. Im really not sure how I became one. Was it because I grew up in Cincinnati? Do you automatically consider yourself a fan because you grew up in the same city as the team plays? What about all the people out there who do not have a team in their hometown? How do they make a decision on who they are going to cheer for? I can’t even imagine what that would be like. Maybe it’s the jersey’s they wear or maybe they like a certain person on the team? Does that give them the right to become fans of that team?
Football is part of my soul. It soothes me and slams me to the ground when I start to get comfortable. I can hear the plays as they start to un-ravel. My mind talks to me as I am pacing back and forth when its 3rd and 1. I am usually right when it comes to my gut feeling. It’s funny; I think it, but I rarely say it, especially when I know they are not going to get a first down.
If you live in a city where you team plays, you have a certain comfort level. Why? Your surrounded by people who wear the same color jersey’s and think the same way as you do. You want your team to win. Living in South Florida is no exception, except it has a different feel to it. It’s rare you find people who actually were born and raised here. When you do, they are Dolphins fans. No different from us. They are given that title because they were born in a city which has a football team. Would I be a Saints fan if I was born in New Orleans? Maybe? Would my buddy Fletch be a Bengals fan if he was born in Cincinnati? Probably not, but it would certainly make for some good conversation.
Going to a bar in South Florida to watch football games is very different from watching them in the town where you were born. You look around all of the big screens and look for your team helmet. It will be hanging at the bottom of the TV along with your opponent. You spot it and off you go. If you are lucky enough you find seats right next to the TV. If you are late, you are shit out of luck. Plan on standing the whole game. You really need to get there early; where they hell are you going to put your buckets of beer if you’re standing around. You need a home base.
Just about every team is represented in the bar. Even Cleveland is represented. David my friend, you are a trooper for hanging in there all year. Down here, you have Dolphins who hate the Pats who hate the Jets. Then there is Pittsburgh, nobody likes Pittsburgh. They are like a swarm of grasshoppers. They go from town to town and try destroying it. But this year, people were ready for them and shut them down. You can use that towel to wipe away those tears.
When I think about all these people under one roof, it’s amazing to me there isn’t more trouble. There are the yells and screams and taunting of teams. Sometimes the tension gets so thick; everybody is just waiting for something to happen. But it never does. We all act like we want to play nice in the sandbox but deep down we want your team to be defeated and I do mean defeated. A good old fashion ass kicking. Hey that’s just football.
I watch the games with Fletch, Tiffany, Bob, Kim, Marybeth, and occasionally Christina. In this crowd, you have die hards from Boston, Baltimore and Cincinnati. My crowd is passionate about football and their teams. When we lose, it may take a few days for the madness to leave our heads. Lose a Superbowl and It will stay with you a lifetime. Something we all have experienced.
What is it we get from being a fan of our teams? Is it the notion we can wear our jerseys with pride and all the other people can kiss our ass? Is it a deep satisfaction we get as people of belonging to a group of successful individuals? Or is it we just want an excuse to get out on a Sunday to be with Friends and drink beer all day. Maybe we want to see how many buckets of beer we have on the tables. Maybe we want to see if our waitress is going to be decked out in short shorts and low cut t-shirts. If you give her a good tip, she will let you look at her melons all day long.
People, it really is all about the game and how it is played. But in my world there seems to be many other games going on beside the ones on the big screen. I look forward to the next roar of the crowd, the singing of the national anthem, and the flyby which makes me so ever proud. Proud to be a fan of this game I truly love.
That is all…
