Saturday, November 6, 2010

Crazy Football Game...

I just recently attended one of my high school football games. When I got there, I just began to realize that, this being the game that decides who goes to the playoffs, there was absolutely ZERO parking. Cars were on the grass, between some of the trailers. If I had checked, there probably would have been cars on the roof. Probably stacked. I drove around the school and the surrounding streets.

I went back into the school parking lot and saw the fire lane; clearly it was an illegal parking spot. The sign looked like death staring me in the face. Also like this:



Two thoughts went through my head. The first one: I probably shouldn't park here. My second thought: This is where I'm parking. I pulled in, told my passenger to shut up, locked the car, and walked up to the football game. I met my friends, and apologizing for my tardiness, we proceeded to walk towards the stands. One problem, there were no seats.

Damnit. First the parking, now this? Sigh... "Well guys, we should probably go get drinks anyways."

My friends agreed with me and we started to walk to the concession, passing the crowds as we went. We filed in at the back of the ludicrously long line, as my two friends inevitably started making out again. As I released my second sigh of the night, I looked back to the front of the line to see what looked like more people than before. Clearly, this was just not my night, and would continue to be even less fortunate of an evening for me. After we waited in the line and got our drinks, we decided to walk into the field next to the football field to hang out or play a game.

We found the dummies that the football players use to practice hitting people. Hmmm... This looks fun. Let me try. It sounded like a great idea, me running at the dummy and hitting it, being strong and cool. But, if you had forgotten, the world was obviously not on my side. I ran straight at the dummy, and slipped (it had just rained). I literally stumbled face first into the fake football player. I do not want to see what I looked like. Probably something like this:


Ignoring the pain, I stood up and acted cool like nothing happened, hoping no one saw it. Not only did all of my friends see it, the other people on the field did too. But you know, me being my smooth self, I continued to ignore the pain, and releasing the third sigh, I walked back to the group and did the only respectable thing. I checked my nose for blood. Thankfully no one had seen me do this, and I stopped myself before I began to search for treasure upon my face. I probably would have only found pimples and dirt anyways.

After I was done making a fool of myself on the field, we decided it was best to go back to the stadium and see how the game was doing. We looked at the score board and read 21-21. There were four seconds left on the clock and we had the ball at the opponent's thirty yard line. Finally a lucky break. Without looking around I yelled "Go Cougars!" As I finished the last syllable, I noticed that the only people around us were the fans of the opponent. We had apparently walked around the stadium while fooling around on the field. After seeing the faces of the people around me, I suddenly wished I was face deep in football dummy once again. But, nevertheless, I can't have everything.

I tried to make this event look funny by looking around and with nervous laughter saying, "Just kidding, I hope those guys lose, hehe..." Not one person even gave me the benefit of the doubt and accepted me. I could feel the people wanting me to leave the room as quickly as possible, so I did just that. I ran away from those bleachers. I high-tailed it all the way back to the concession, thinking my friends were right behind me. Nope. Of course, they decided to take their time walking back to me. I was forced to stand in the middle of many groups of friends pretending to check texts. On my phone. Which was actually my camera. Cue the fourth sigh.

The game ended, our team won, and we decided to walk back down to the cars. As we waited for their rides to get there, I let them sit in my car so we could turn up the heat and the music. Their rides eventually arrived and they left. Sitting at a red light on the way home, I saw some small sheet of paper underneath one of my windshield wipers. Shit shit shit shit shit... It had to be a parking ticket. It just had to be one. My friend didn't noticed it, so I kept my cool. See?


I dropped my friend off and when I got home, I practically flew out of the car and picked up the sheet of pure fear on my windshield. I read it, and almost pissed myself out of relief. It was a brochure advertising reservations to a skiing resort. I walked in the house in a daze, gave my mom a hug, let loose the fifth and final sigh, and fell into my bed. The football game from hell was over, and I had fun. As I start to fall asleep, I think one last thing. Where's my phone?

Shit... 

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