aw shucks.
so the super bowl was a little sad last night, wasn't it? the bears losing and all. and the rain throughout the game. and it being the most boring super bowl ever. oh, and the lame ass commercials. but it was also a little sad because for inga, the bears are - and always will be - the sentimental favorites. why? well, because a bear slept in my house, of course. sure, it was a good twenty-seven years ago, but still. inga and a bear. together. forever.
back in the late 70s, early 80s, ena and my pop were friends with a family whose sons were football gods. we were wee ones, the former brother, me, and holden - holden such a wee one that the football gods, who on occasion baby sat us while our parents whooped it up 70s style, that the football gods actually carried baby holden around in the palm of their hands. no kidding. these boys were Golden with a capital G. they were football stars in high school and college. and, a couple of years later, one of the football gods was drafted by the chicago bears and became a rookie bear. so, naturally, because at the time we lived on the north shore, rookie god came to live with us.
he and holden shared a room. holden was four or five. he once took rookie god to school for show and tell. the poor kindergarten teacher, ena likes to say, nearly fainted on the spot when the strapping rookie god, in his bears uniform, walked into her classroom. rookie god was great - handsome, a winning smile, kind. he drove a yellow mg convertible, which, to this day, i'm still puzzled he actually fit in. he taught the former brother how to drive stick shift behind the driving range. he once had his football friends serenede me on my birthday; of course i was like eleven and shy, shy, shy, so i burst into tears and ran out of the room, but still!
anyway. finally, after months of training with the team, rookie god got his chance: starting. his pro game! the house was electric with excitment. and, then, lo and behold, the inevitable happened. first pro game. rookie god gets the ball! rookie god gets tackled! rookie god goes one way. his knee goes the other. and just like that, it's over. no more pro games. no more bears. he ultimately married a woman whose name is a spice - honey? ginger? marjoram? - and settled down to a non-football life.
holden grew up to be a strapping young boy. the former brother grew up to not drive stick shift. football players these days don't make me cry as much as they make me cringe. so, yes, sentimental favorites always.
best lines from the super bowl soiree i attended last night:
"hurry! get in here! you just missed a bear steamroll a bear!"
"oh, a colt's down!"
"think someone will shoot him?"
worst commercial: a tie between sheryl crowe's god awful is it ever going to end hair product commercial & the weird one with a guy dressed up as a heart being harrassed by thugs nicknamed diabetes and heart disease. weird, weird, weird.
best sentimental commercial: poor dejected white dog getting splashed by a mud puddle and becoming a budweiser dalmation!
best overall super bowl related play: the puppy bowl, complete with kitty half time show, thanks to animal planet. seriously, the water-bowl cam? priceless.
back in the late 70s, early 80s, ena and my pop were friends with a family whose sons were football gods. we were wee ones, the former brother, me, and holden - holden such a wee one that the football gods, who on occasion baby sat us while our parents whooped it up 70s style, that the football gods actually carried baby holden around in the palm of their hands. no kidding. these boys were Golden with a capital G. they were football stars in high school and college. and, a couple of years later, one of the football gods was drafted by the chicago bears and became a rookie bear. so, naturally, because at the time we lived on the north shore, rookie god came to live with us.
he and holden shared a room. holden was four or five. he once took rookie god to school for show and tell. the poor kindergarten teacher, ena likes to say, nearly fainted on the spot when the strapping rookie god, in his bears uniform, walked into her classroom. rookie god was great - handsome, a winning smile, kind. he drove a yellow mg convertible, which, to this day, i'm still puzzled he actually fit in. he taught the former brother how to drive stick shift behind the driving range. he once had his football friends serenede me on my birthday; of course i was like eleven and shy, shy, shy, so i burst into tears and ran out of the room, but still!
anyway. finally, after months of training with the team, rookie god got his chance: starting. his pro game! the house was electric with excitment. and, then, lo and behold, the inevitable happened. first pro game. rookie god gets the ball! rookie god gets tackled! rookie god goes one way. his knee goes the other. and just like that, it's over. no more pro games. no more bears. he ultimately married a woman whose name is a spice - honey? ginger? marjoram? - and settled down to a non-football life.
holden grew up to be a strapping young boy. the former brother grew up to not drive stick shift. football players these days don't make me cry as much as they make me cringe. so, yes, sentimental favorites always.
best lines from the super bowl soiree i attended last night:
"hurry! get in here! you just missed a bear steamroll a bear!"
"oh, a colt's down!"
"think someone will shoot him?"
worst commercial: a tie between sheryl crowe's god awful is it ever going to end hair product commercial & the weird one with a guy dressed up as a heart being harrassed by thugs nicknamed diabetes and heart disease. weird, weird, weird.
best sentimental commercial: poor dejected white dog getting splashed by a mud puddle and becoming a budweiser dalmation!
best overall super bowl related play: the puppy bowl, complete with kitty half time show, thanks to animal planet. seriously, the water-bowl cam? priceless.
posted by lynda at 9:45 AM
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