Kickoff

Sunday afternoons during football season meant watching the Cowboy game. Or rather waiting for my dad to fall asleep with the Cowboy game on. As soon as this happened, my sister and I would sneak into the living room to change the channel. In the early days, we had to actually turn the knob on the set. Later, we would ease the remote out from under Dad's arm. Yet, no matter how quietly we carried out our mission, he was instantly awake with the changing of the channel. Even with the sound off (he preferred to watch the game on television while listening to it on the radio), he had the uncanny ability to sense when his game was no longer on. In those days, the Cowboys weren't winning, and I didn't care. All I wanted was the remote.


Friday nights in high school meant going to Irving Stadium. Not because I really wanted to watch a high school football game. I was on the drill team, so Friday night was about performing. Before the game, we were the V in between the band's two columns. Together we marched onto the field to form the M from which we performed the national anthem and the Alma Mater. Just before kickoff, we formed two lines and shook our glittering pom poms on opposite sides of a large sign through which the football team ran onto the field. During the game, we performed stand routines to the music the band played. Then there was halftime. High kicks, jump splits, and other stunts which have left me with popping knee joints. Back then, I didn't care who caught the ball or what he did with it. I could kick my leg high enough to hit my hat.


Years passed, and I took no interest in the game of football. There was even a time I criticized the game as having nothing to do with the foot. It seemed the rest of the world had it right in referring to soccer as football. Indeed, I had many a conversation with my international friends about the seeming misnomer while I was living in Europe.


Today, I live in a state that has no professional football team. Yet, football fever is much more alive here than anywhere else I have lived. This is, after all, the Sooner State. After I began teaching at the community college, I learned that I needed to choose a color, crimson or orange. Being that I live closer to OU, it seemed logical that I would be a Sooner fan. At first, I would just placate my students by pretending to be interested. I still didn't know or care much about the game. Then, on a whim, I decided to watch the 2007 Fiesta Bowl. I couldn't take my eyes off the game. I had never seen football played like that. It was a nail-biter. The Sooners lost on a trick play in overtime, and I was upset about the loss. Of course, the next few days were abuzz with talk of the game. I was hooked.


Last season found me watching the ratings from week to week. I started watching ESPN and laughing at Lou Holtz and his absurd comments, particularly when it came to his die-hard support of Notre Dame. I watched Game Day when the show came to Norman. And when it went to Stillwater. I got excited about the Sooners 60+ point scoring streak. I got involved in the controversy surrounding the Big XII South title spot and the BCS ranking system. I rooted for Bradford for the Heisman. And then from my living room came quite an uproar during the National Title game after which my daughter told me not to yell at Tebow anymore.

So last season ended in disappointment, but I'm geared up for this one. Everywhere I see signs that I'm not the only one. The electronic billboards on I-40 have displayed the countdown until kickoff since there were more than 50. The jerseys have been on sale at my local WalMart for a couple of weeks now. The grocery stores have stocked up on game day fare. The radio stations are playing the school fight song and talking about tomorrow's matchup. We're ready.

I'm ready. I find it slightly ironic considering my history with the game that kickoff will be taking place at the new Cowboy Stadium. I suppose I've come full circle. It won't be the Cowboys, no, and it won't be Sunday afternoons, and I have more than one TV, so any little girl that might not take an interest in the game can watch a movie in the other room. But my big screen will most certainly be reserved for kickoff. And me, I'll be singing Boomer Sooner.